In the end, this became too much for me. It may be that the import of the day, together with the lights and sounds and smoke and the press of the crowd, combined to overwhelm me. One moment I was standing beside Justin, listening to the priest speak out the benediction, and the next moment I was slumped against the pillar and Justin crouched beside me with a worried expression on his face.
"I felt a little light-headed," I told him as soon as we were outside once more. It was dark now, and a chill wind blew off the sea. "But I feel better now. The air has revived me."
"I do not wonder you fainted," he replied. "You have walked over half the city today, and on an empty stomach." He frowned reprovingly. "It is time to eat."
Reaching the Mese, we continued west a short way, arriving at a crossroads. Justin turned onto the right hand street, which was steep and dark and quiet, and led me a few dozen paces to a small house with a low door and a high step. As we approached, I heard laughter from within. On the doorframe hung a wooden placard painted with the image of a roast fowl and an amphora of wine.
He thumped on the door with the flat of his hand. "I am from Cyprus," Justin told me, pausing in his assault on the door. "The man who owns this house is from Cyprus, too. All the best food comes from there. It is true. Ask anyone."
At that instant the door opened to reveal a man with a black beard and gold ring in his ear. "Justin!" he cried at once. "So! You have not forgotten us! You wish a meal, yes? You shall have one." Justin then showed the bearded man the coin given him by the prefect. The man grinned widely. "What am I saying? A meal? You shall have a feast! A feast I shall give you." Turning to me, the man said, "Welcome to my house. I do not know you, my friend, but already I can see that you are twice blessed."
"How so?" I wondered, as charmed by his effusive greeting as by the exquisite aromas washing over us from the warm rooms inside.
"It is simple. You have chosen to visit the finest taberna in all Constantinople, and this in the company of the most excellent soldier in all the empire. Oh, the night is cold. Come in, my friends!" he cried, almost pulling us over the threshold.
Closing the door quickly behind us, he said to me, "I am Theodorou Zakis, and I am honoured to have you in my house. The worries of the day cannot reach you here. Please, follow me."
He led us up a narrow way of stairs to a large room with a handsome bronze brazier glowing in the centre, like a hearth, around which were scattered a number of low couches. Several of these were occupied by men reclining in groups of two or three over large platters filled with various dishes. There were also a few small tables set into alcoves formed by wooden screens. One table was placed in that part of the room which overhung the street below and it was to this table Theo brought us.
"You see, Justin, I have saved this for you. I know you prefer it." Turning to me, he added, as if in secret: "Soldiers always prefer tables. I do not know why." He pulled out the table then, and positioned the two low, three-legged stools. "Sit! Sit you down. I will bring the wine."
"And bread, Theo. Lots of bread," Justin said. "We have had nothing to eat all day."
Our arrival occasioned but little interest in our fellow diners. They carried on with their meal as if we did not exist. I thought this most unusual until Justin explained that it was customary and no one thought it rude. "Have you no tabernas in Ierne?" he inquired.
"No. It is a new thing to me-but then, everything in this city is new to me."
"When I first came to Constantinople four years ago, I had no friends so I came here often, even though I could not afford it so easily. I was only a legionary then."
"Do you have family?"
"A mother and sister only," he replied. "They live in Cyprus still. I have not seen them for seven years. But I know they are well. We write to one another often. It is one of the blessings of life in the emperor's army-a soldier can send letters anywhere in the world and be certain they will arrive."
Theo returned with a double-handled jar shaped like a small amphora, but with a flat bottom. "For you, my friends, I have saved the best. From Chios!" he announced, producing two wooden cups which he placed on the table beside the jar. "Drink this, and forget you ever tasted wine before."
"If we drink all this," laughed Justin, "we will forget everything."
"Would that be so terrible?" Laughing, Theo retreated-only to return a moment later with four loaves of bread in a woven basket. The bread was still warm.
"Tell me, Aidan," Justin said, pouring wine into the two wooden cups, "what did you think of the emperor?"
"He is a very great man," I answered, taking up one of the loaves and handing it to Justin.
"Indeed, indeed," he agreed good-naturedly, breaking the loaf in half. "That goes without saying. He has done much to benefit the city and the empire."
