"With all respect, eparch," replied Nikos stiffly, "would it not be better to summon them to attend us here-and at a time of our choosing? We should not be seen to obey their summons."
"It is a fine point you raise," allowed the eparch, "but inappropriate to the particular circumstance."
"On the contrary," said Nikos, "it is most pertinent. With respect, eparch, I would not like our leniency to be misconstrued as vacillation or weakness. We should command them to attend us-not the other way around."
"It is never weakness to show good will toward those one hopes to persuade," replied Nicephorus gently. "The amir will recognize the generosity of our acceptance, and consider it accordingly." The eparch raised an admonitory finger. "These Arabs are a proud race; they do not willingly allow themselves to remain in debt or obligation to anyone. You would do well to remember this."
"Of course, eparch." Nikos inclined his head in a stiff bow and withdrew. I did not see him again until the next day when we assembled the party that was to greet Amir Sadiq-and then I saw why: Nikos had arranged, at considerable pains, for a number of horse-drawn chariots to take us to the Arab camp.
Eparch Nicephorus emerged from the house, took one look at the long line of chariots awaiting us in the street, and said, "Send them away, Nikos. Send them away! We will walk to the amir's camp."
Blinking in disbelief, the komes said, "Walk? With all respect, eparch, we cannot be seen to walk."
"Why not?" asked the eparch lightly. "People walk here and there about the earth, their business to perform. This I have seen myself, and, try as I might, find no shame in it."
"But the magister and the officials-they will deem it improper and undignified to walk."
"I was not aware that we were trying to impress the magister and his minions with our exalted position."
"Eparch, please, I would not have expected you to adopt this tone. Believe me, I care as little as you for the opinion of the magister. But it is the amir's opinion we must consider now."
"Then let me reassure you," said Nicephorus, "it is my sole consideration."
"No less than mine, eparch-"
"Is it?" The eparch's voice became firm, and his eye keen. "I do wonder, Nikos." Dismissing the matter, he said, "But never mind. The amir is waiting; let us depart. Bring the gifts."
Nicephorus started off down the street alone. Nikos watched him for a moment, and I saw the rage welling up within him; he all but shook with fury. Then, as quickly as it had flared, he forced the anger down again. Turning quickly, he signalled Harald to send the bodyguard ahead.
The magister, waiting a little distance apart with a group of city officials, came forward then. "I see the eparch has changed his mind," he said, watching the lanky old man striding down the street.
"Unfortunately, yes," agreed Nikos with seeming reluctance. "I fear we must accustom ourselves to his unpredictable humours."
That was all he said, but the doubt sown with those few words would quickly grow to a sizeable crop.
By the time our party reached Trebizond's eastern gate, Nikos had arranged us in well-ordered ranks, reclaiming some semblance of the pomp he had hoped to inspire. Passing through the gate, we crossed the ditch bridge and proceeded in procession towards the camp. Seeing that we approached on foot, Amir Sadiq mounted a welcome party and met us on the way.
I will never forget the sight of him, sitting on his fine grey horse, dressed all in white, dazzling in the pale winter sunlight. He reined in his mount, slipped from the saddle in a single, fluid motion, and advanced open-handed to greet the eparch. The caliph's envoy was not a big man, but he exuded an air of such dignity and dominion that he seemed to tower over all around him. He was lithe, rather than muscled, and moved with the grace and subtlety of a cat.
Though they had never met before, the amir strode directly to Nicephorus and bowed. He said something in Arabic which sounded like, Al il'allah, and then, without the least hesitation said, "Greetings in the name of the Great al'Mutamid, by All Wise Allah, Khalifa of the Abbasids. I am J'Amal Sadiq, Amir of the Abbasid Sarazens, and I welcome you to my camp."
The eparch inclined his head in acknowledgement of the salutation. "Greetings, Amir Sadiq. In the name of the most noble Basil, by the grace of God, Elect of Heaven, Co-Regent of Christ on Earth, Emperor of the Romans, I welcome you," replied the eparch. "I am your servant, Nicephorus."
"You must now forgive me, Eparch Nicephorus," said the amir, "I have exhausted my small store of Greek words. From now on I will employ the aid of my advisor." Raising his hands, he clapped them twice, and said, "Faysal!"
