I withdrew, allowing the courtier to sort through the pile, picking out the silver denarii. In a moment, he had retrieved a handful, and then turned to me. "There are not so many silver as gold," he said, "but a fair few. What is your interest in them?"
"Only this," I said, and walked to where King Harald stood silent and slightly bewildered; I held out my hand to him. "Your silver, Jarl Harald," I said, in Danespeak. "Give me some coins."
"What is happening here?" he asked, withdrawing the pouch from his belt at the same time. "What are they saying?"
"Patience, lord, it is soon over, and I will tell you everything."
The king grudgingly placed the coin bag in my hand and I returned to my place by the throne. Nikos had already seen what I had in mind, and said, "Reach into the purse, and take out a coin. I will take up one also. Now, show them to the emperor."
We both extended our hands with a coin on the palm. Emperor Basil examined each denarius in turn. "They are the same."
Nikos took several more coins from among those he had retrieved and inspected each one. "They are all the same, basileus."
"I would know, Quaestor Antonius," the emperor said, "how the coins of this Danish king have come to be in your possession. Do you maintain that they were also part of your shrewd father's bequest?"
"Lord and emperor," the harbour master replied, "those denarii are the most common coin in the empire, as everyone knows. Rather ask how this barbarian king came into possession of coins minted in Constantinople."
"These were not minted in Constantinople, Quaestor Antonius," said the komes. "They were struck in Rome, and all commemorate Theophilus." Stooping again to the heap, he sifted through the coins, withdrawing the silver until he had them all. These he counted. "Basileus," he announced, rising, "I would have you know that there are forty-five Roman denarii."
The emperor glared at his tax collector. "It appears that you have, to the very coin, the precise number of denarii this king has charged you with stealing. What is more, each is a Roman coin of the exact stamp as that from the barbarian's own purse. If you can explain, then do so."
The harbour master, brazen to the last, shrugged. "It is merely an unlucky chance, basileus," he said. "Nothing more."
"Oh, it is too much for chance, we think," declared Basil pointedly. The emperor gazed with cruel satisfaction at the unhappy quaestor and said, "Allow us to suggest another, altogether more logical possibility: that you stole this silver from these men and put it in the jar with the intention of changing it for solidi-along with all the rest of the denarii you have been stealing in the course of your duties. Further, Quaestor Antonius, it is our belief that, judging from the considerable extent of the evidence we see before us, you have been abusing your position as Master of Hormisdas Harbour for a considerable length of time." Emperor Basil sat upright in his wide throne. "That will stop."
"Sovereign lord," said Antonius quickly, "the gold is mine, I swear it on the holy name. I am telling the truth; it is my bequest. With all respect, you cannot believe these barbari."
"Respect?" asked Basil. "We wonder that you use such a word. You have shown little respect to us, or to your position. Still," the emperor said briskly, "though the silver is no longer in question, it is not proven that you stole the gold."
So saying, Basil beckoned the magister to him. The court official brought a wax tablet of the kind the prefect carried, and gave it to the emperor. Taking up the stylus, Basil began to write.
"Basileus," ventured the quaestor hesitantly, "it was but a small transgression. It is not a matter for prison certainly."
"We agree, Quaestor Antonius, it is not a matter for prison. That would be a cruel waste of a man of your impressive talents, and a loss to the empire. It is clear to us, however, that your present position is, shall we say, constricting to you."
Glancing up from his writing, the emperor allowed himself a thin smile. "The imperial mines are always in need of men such as yourself-men with an appetite for wealth, and an eye for the glint of silver. We are certain you will find the company of like-minded men most invigorating."
The former harbour master's mouth dropped open; he closed it and swallowed hard. "No…no…please Holy Jesu, no," he murmured.
Basil, having dispensed justice to his satisfaction, dismissed the matter. "Transportation has been arranged. You will be the guest of the emperor until your ship sails." He made a signal with his hands and five of the Farghanese stepped forward at once. Basil passed the wax tablet to the magister, and flicked his hand towards the bronze doors, saying, "Take him from here."
"My money!" said the quaestor, struggling forward as the guards took hold of him. "That is my money."
