Lest Darkness Fall (31 page)

            "This time, man, it
will be different."

            "If any pants are lost
—"

            "They will be yours."

            "How would this
be?"

            "You pay us sixty
thousand —"

            "In three installments
—"

            "Of twenty thousand
each?"

            But Padway was immovable.
The Bulgar finished:

            "I shall inform my
master —"

            "Kardam, the Great Khan
of the Kutrigurs —"

            "Of your
obduracy."

            "For a reasonable bribe
—"

            "I am prepared to tell
him —"

            "Of the might of the
Gothic arms —"

            "In terms that shall
dissuade him —"

            "From his projected
invasion."

            Padway beat the Bulgar down
to half the bribe he originally asked, and they parted on the best of terms.
When he went around to his quarters he found Fritharik trying to wind a towel
around his head.

            The Vandal looked up with
guilty embarrassment. "I was trying, excellent boss, to make a headgear
like that of the Hunnish gentleman. It has style."

-

            Padway had long since
decided that Thiudahad was a pathological case. But lately the little king was
showing more definite signs of mental failure. For instance, when Padway went
to see about a new inheritance law, Thiudahad gravely listened to him explain
the reasons that the Royal Council and Cassiodorus had agreed upon bringing the
Gothic law more into line with the Roman.

            Then he said: '"When
are you going to put out another book in my name, Martinus? Your name
is
Martinus, isn't it? Martinus Paduei, Martinus Paduei. Didn't I appoint you
prefect or something? Dear me, I can't seem to remember anything. Now, what's
this you want to see me about? Always business, business, business. I hate
business. Scholarship is more important. Silly state papers. What is it, an
order for an execution? I hope you're going to torture the rascal as he
deserves. I can't understand this absurd prejudice of yours against torture.
The people aren't happy unless they're terrified of their government. Let's
see, what was I talking about?"

            It was convenient in one
way, as Thiudahad didn't bother him much. But it was awkward when the king
simply refused to listen to him or to sign anything for a day at a time.

            Then he found himself in a
hot dispute with the paymaster-general of the Gothic army. The latter refused
to put the Imperialist mercenaries whom Padway had captured on the rolls.
Padway argued that the men were first-rate soldiers who seemed glad enough to
serve the Italo-Gothic state, and that it would cost little more to enlist them
than to continue to feed them as prisoners. The paymaster-general replied that
national defense had been a prerogative of the Goths since the time of
Theoderik, and the men in question were not, with some few exceptions, Goths.
Q. E. D.

            Each stubbornly maintained
his point, so the dispute was carried to Thiudahad. The king listened to the
argument with a spacious air of wisdom.

            Then he sent the
paymaster-general away and told Padway: "Lots to be said on both sides,
dear sir, lots to be said on both sides: Now, if I decide in your favor, I
shall expect a suitable command for my son, Thiudegiskel."

            Padway was horrified, though
he tried not to show it. "But, my lord king, what military experience has
Thiudegiskel had?"

            "None; that's just the
trouble. Spends all his time drinking and wenching with his wild young friends.
He needs a bit of responsibility. Something good, consistent with the dignity
of his birth."

            Padway argued some more. But
he didn't say that he couldn't imagine a worse commander than this
self-conceited and arrogant puppy. Thiudahad was obstinate. "After all,
Martinus, I'm king, am I not? You can't browbeat me and you can't frighten me
with your Wittigis. Heh, heh I'll have a surprise for you one of these days.
What was I talking about? Oh, yes. You do, I think, owe Thiudegiskel something
for putting him in that horrid prison camp —"

            "But I didn't put him
in jail —"

            "Don't interrupt,
Martinus. It isn't considerate. Either you give him a command, or I decide in
favor of the other man, what's-his-name. That is my final royal word."

            So Padway gave in.
Thiudegiskel was put in command of the Gothic forces in Calabria, where, Padway
hoped, he wouldn't be able to do much harm. Later he had occasion to remember
that hope.

            Padway may seem rash to have
incorporated such an alien element as the ex-Imperialists in the Italo-Gothic
army. But in this age there was no such thing as nationalism in the modern
sense. The ties that counted were those of religion and personal loyalty to a
commander. Many of the Imperialists were Thracian Goths who had remained in the
Balkans at that time of the migration under Theoderik. And some Italian Goths
had served the Empire as mercenaries. They mixed with little prejudice on
either side.

            Then three things happened.
General Sisigis sent word of suspicious activity among the Franks.

            Padway got a letter from
Thomasus, which told of an attempt on the life of ex-King Wittigis. The
assassin had inexplicably sneaked into the dugout, where Wittigis, though
slightly wounded in the process, had killed him with his bare hands. Nobody
knew who the assassin was until Wittigis had declared, with many a
bloodcurdling curse, that he recognized the man as an old-time secret agent of
Thiudahad. Padway knew what that meant. Thiudahad had discovered Wittigis'
whereabouts, and meant to put his rival out of the way. If he succeeded, he'd
be prepared to defy Padway's management, or even to heave him out of his office.
Or worse.

            Finally Padway got a letter
from Justinian. It read:

-

Flavius
Anicius Justinian, Emperor of the Romans, to King Thiudahad, Greetings.

            Our
serenity's attention has been called to the terms which you propose for
termination of the war between us.

            We
find these terms so absurd and unreasonable that our deigning to reply at all
is an act of great condescension on our part. Our holy endeavor to recover for
the Empire the provinces of western Europe, which belonged to our forebears and
rightfully belong to us, will be carried through to a victorious conclusion.

            As
for our former general, Flavius Belisarius, his refusal of parole is an act of
gross disloyalty, which we shall fittingly punish in due course. Meanwhile the
illustrious Belisarius may consider himself free of all obligations to us. Nay
more, we order him to place himself unreservedly under the orders of that
infamous heretic and agent of the Evil One who calls himself Martinus of Padua,
of whom we have heard.

            We
are confident that, between the incompetence and cowardice of Belisarius and
the heavenly wrath that will attach to those who submit to the unclean touch of
the diabolical Martinus, the doom of the Gothic kingdom will not be long
delayed.

-

            Padway realized, with a slightly
sick feeling, that he had a lot to learn about diplomacy. His defiance of
Justinian, and of the Frankish kings, and of the Bulgars, had each been
justified, considered by itself. But he shouldn't have committed himself to
taking them on all at once.

            The thunderheads were piling
up fast.

-

            PADWAY DASHED BACK to Rome
and showed Justinian's letter to Belisarius. He thought he had seldom seen a
more unhappy man than the stalwart Thracian.

            "I don't know,"
was all Belisarius would say in answer to his questions. "I shall have to
think."

            Padway got an interview with
Belisarius' wife, Antonina. He got along fine with this slim, vigorous redhead.

            She said: "I told him
repeatedly that he'd get nothing but ingratitude from Justinian. But you know
how he is — reasonable about everything except what concerns his honor. The
only thing that would make me hesitate is my friendship with the Empress
Theodora. That's not a connection to be thrown over lightly. But after this
letter — I'll do what I can, excellent Martinus."

            Belisarius, to Padway's
unconcealed delight, finally capitulated.

            The immediate danger point
seemed to be Provence. Padway's runner-collecting service had gathered a story
of another bribe paid by Justinian to the Franks to attack the Goths. So Padway
did some shuffling. Asinar, who had sat at Senia for months without the
gumption to move against the Imperialists in Spalato, was ordered home.
Sisigis, who if no genius was not obviously incompetent, was transferred to
command of Asinar's Dalmatian army. And Belisarius was given command of
Sisigis' forces in Gaul. Belisarius, before leaving for the North, asked Padway
for all the information available about the Franks.

            Padway explained:
"Brave, treacherous, and stupid. They have nothing but unarmored infantry,
who fight in a single deep column. They come whooping along, hurl a volley of
throwing-axes and javelins, and close with the sword. If you can stop them by a
line of reliable pikemen, or by cavalry charges, they're suckers for mounted
archers. They're very numerous, but such a huge mass of infantry can't forage
enough territory to keep themselves fed. So they have to keep moving or starve.

            "Moreover, they're so
primitive that their soldiers are not paid at all. They're expected to make
their living by looting. If you can hold them in one spot long enough, they
melt away by desertion. But don't underestimate their numbers and ferocity.

            "Try to send agents
into Burgundy to rouse the Burgunds against the Franks, who conquered them only
a few years ago." He explained that the Burgunds were of East-German
origin, like the Goths and Lombards, spoke a language much like theirs, and
like them were primarily stockraisers. Hence they did not get on with the West-German
Franks, who were agriculturists when they were not devastating their neighbors'
territory.

-

            If there was going to be
more war, Padway knew one invention that would settle it definitely in the
Italo-Goths' favor. Gunpowder was made of sulphur, charcoal, and saltpeter.
Padway had learned that in the sixth grade. The first two were available
without question.

            He supposed that potassium
nitrate could be obtained somewhere as a mineral. But he did not know where, or
what it would look like. He could not synthesize it with the equipment at hand,
even had he known enough chemistry. But he remembered reading that it occurred
at the bottom of manure-piles. And he remembered an enormous pile in Nevitta's
yard.

            He called on Nevitta and
asked for permission to dig. He whooped with joy when, sure enough, there were
the crystals, looking like maple sugar. Nevitta asked him if he was crazy.

            "Sure," grinned
Padway. Didn't you know? I've been that way for years."

            His old house on Long Street
was as full of activity as ever, despite the move to Florence. It was used as
Rome headquarters by the Telegraph Company. Padway was having another press set
up. And now the remaining space downstairs became a chemical laboratory. Padway
did not know what proportions of the three ingredients made good gunpowder, and
the only way to find out was by experiment.