Conquest

‘Father, we need your help.’ John Azoukh’s voice broke through the babble of a hundred men, now seriously engaged with their food, wine and conversation. ‘We are here on the Emperor’s business. There is an old man who lives in these hills and we need to find him. We mean him no harm; he is a friend of the great Alexius, who speaks very highly of him. He says that he has the wisdom of a man who has lived three lifetimes.’

‘I know no such man anywhere.’ Leo was startled to hear the description of a man of rare distinction and feared he had been too obvious in his denial.

To the locals the man was a hermit, rarely seen, a foreigner from a northern land. Nobody knew much about him, except that his unwelcoming manner and fearsome appearance led everyone to avoid him. He walked with the bowed back of an old age bedevilled by arthritis. Nevertheless, his frame was formidable, with broad shoulders and powerful arms and hands like those of a blacksmith. He had a shock of grey-blond hair that cascaded down his back and a snow-white beard that contrasted sharply with his deeply wrinkled face, burned chestnut-brown by the Mediterranean sun.

Leo had visited his reclusive parishioner just once and had spent only an hour with him. He had learned nothing of his past, but his manner and bearing gave strong hints of a turbulent life and of a man of rare gifts. He had longed to return and learn more but had promised not to; it seemed neither honourable nor wise to break a promise to such a man.

‘Are you sure, Father?’ There was a hint of impatience in John Azoukh’s question. ‘You must understand that all the great work of the Emperor Alexius must now be consolidated by the rightful succession of his beloved son, John.’

‘But, my noble Lord, what has that got to do with an old man in the hills of Elis?’ Leo responded meekly, but with a firm resolve not to place one of his flock in danger.

‘So you do know such a man?’

‘I didn’t say that, sire. I simply don’t understand what anyone from my humble parish could offer the heir to the throne of Constantinople.’

‘Wisdom, Father Leo,’ John Comnenus interrupted in a gentle tone, sensing his friend’s irritation and Leo’s discomfort. ‘My father says I have all the qualities to follow him, except wisdom. He isn’t much longer for this life and he grows anxious. My sister, Anna, is very shrewd; she plots against me and has powerful friends and an ambitious husband. My father doubts that I have the wisdom to deal with her. He has asked me to make this journey, to find this man and hear his story. He says that when I hear the account of his life, I will understand how men find the wisdom to know what they have to do and the courage to act on their judgement. So, Father, that is why we are here.’

Leo was overwhelmed by the Prince’s frankness. ‘My Prince, this is too much for me. I don’t know…’

‘Let me finish.’ John Comnenus understood the embarrassment felt by the priest. He smiled at him and continued his story. As he did so, he pulled an amulet from a pouch around his waist. ‘My father gave me this talisman, which he has worn throughout his reign. He said that if I give it to the man I seek, he will know that it comes from my father and represents a sacred trust. We have visited your superior, the Bishop of Corinth, and he told us that you are a good man, a fine priest, and that we could place our trust in you. But he also told us that you wouldn’t easily reveal the whereabouts of the man we hope to find. Years ago, my father asked the bishop to find a sanctuary for this man and ordered the local governor to have his garrison keep a discreet but watchful eye on the district.’

Several things suddenly began to make sense to Leo: the bishop’s long lectures about the sanctity of the confessional, no matter how disturbing the revelations of a man racked by sin might be; the reminders about the necessity to protect every member of the parish from prying questions, even if one of his flock was a stranger from afar; and the frequent visits from the governor’s men-at-arms, asking about the welfare of the locals and whether any armed men had been sighted in the vicinity. All this just to protect a hermit?

John Comnenus continued. ‘I know you want to do your duty as a good priest; I don’t ask you to do otherwise. Please take this amulet and carry it to the man we seek. You are only the third man to touch it since it was placed around my father’s neck thirty years ago.’