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POV of Lysander
What do you need so many coins for?", I asked, lifting my gaze from the paper where Basil's new governor detailed yet another request for funds, that man seemed to have a special talent for turning gold into dust.
"A new wing for studies and another for debate. In addition, we must expand the schools with the growth of the population", Leo replied with a calm smile, as if he were asking for timber to repair a stable.
"And what happened to the fifty thousand nomismata you received at the beginning of the year? Do you realize that with that sum a small army could be equipped?", I frowned, it was no small figure, not even for an expanding city.
"Building a city is not cheap, especially when you do not want it to be a simple cluster of houses", he replied without losing his composure. "We have raised housing, cisterns, baths, and the university with its different wings of study. Schools so that the population may learn to read and write. I have brought teachers from various parts of the Empire, scribes with knowledge of distant lands. We have purchased books to translate them into Greek. And the experiments, the experiments require constant funding before they offer results."
I listened to him in silence. I knew Basil well. He was not a man who threw his fortune out the window. He had grown wealthy by watching every expense like a hawk over its prey.
"I find it strange that he gives you so much gold without demanding clear benefits", I murmured, resting my elbow on the table. "Basil did not reach his position by spending lavishly. He always detested disbursing a coin if it was not essential."
"The long and tedious road leads to the sweetest fruits", Leo replied calmly. "Basil understands that scientific progress rarely arises from nothing. Sometimes it is born of error, other times of well-funded curiosity. The wealthy who invest in those who ask the right questions sow changes that transform empires. Today it may seem like a loss. Tomorrow it will be an advantage no one will be able to match."
I observed him for a moment. There was conviction in his voice, and that irritated me almost as much as it intrigued me.
"Very well", I conceded at last. "I will assign you thirty thousand nomismata more. But I do not want to see you in this chamber again until next year. I do not know what Basil will say if he discovers that I have almost doubled the budget he granted you for his new city."
I drafted the order so he could withdraw the gold from the treasury and handed it to him.
"Thank you, governor", he said, bowing his head. Then he added "I understand that you have several children. Would you not be interested in having them attend our schools, or even the university, according to their age? We have some of the best teachers in the Empire. We teach Greek to the Varangians, we instruct Syriacs and locals alike. Your children could benefit without you having to spend fortunes on private tutors."
I let out a brief exhalation. "That would imply sending them to another city. My wife would not receive the idea well."
"She may relocate with them", Leo replied without hesitation. "There are houses available. We are awaiting the response of several scholars invited from Italy and other regions under Germanic rule. It would be a community worthy of your family."
I leaned back in the chair "I will speak with her", I said at last. "We shall see what she thinks."
Leo made his way toward the exit, still wearing that smile that never seemed to leave him.
"Education is important, governor", he remarked before crossing the threshold. "Do not forget it. Remember why you hold that position."
"I remember very well", I replied.
With nothing more to say I returned to my work. What had begun as something temporary ended up becoming something entirely permanent. I will not say that I miss the military camp, especially with the iron discipline Basil imposes on everyone, but I do miss that feeling of constant movement, that quickened pulse in the chest when someone tried to cut off your head and you did what was necessary to strike first and return the blow.
Yet here I am, in Crete, far from where I was born. And who am I to complain? Basil increased my salary and, in addition, entrusted me with a corps of Varangians who had learned to read and write, men who now worked for him and whom I was to organize.
Working for Basil is probably the most lucrative employment one can find in the Empire, perhaps comparable only to serving directly under the basileus Rhōmaiōn. Administrators earn two nomismata, and recently I heard that Basil increased his men's pay to one nomismata per month, practically doubling it. With that kind of salary it is not difficult to recruit people.
That said, we require the Varangians to speak Greek. And when those men want work, they truly make the effort. The last census I conducted, a few months ago, showed that they went from thirteen percent speaking Greek to nearly forty-three. And that considering another large group arrived who did not know the language. However, as Greek became essential for the commercial and maritime fleets, many Varangians began teaching it among their own. Now the language spreads rapidly, and if things continue this way, next year almost all of them will speak it as a second tongue.
As for me, Basil added a zero to my salary so that I would not even consider returning. It worked better than I expected. The one who grew accustomed to luxury the fastest was my wife. She now wears silk, displays her jewels, lives in a large house within the city walls, with servants and guards.
The one who hated the idea of coming to Crete the most is now the one who most wishes to remain. Everything we have achieved has simply been the result of doing my work without complaint.
Recently my workload decreased considerably as I was able to delegate more and more responsibilities, since I now had more men who could read and write and could assign them specific functions without having to review every detail myself.
Heraklion grows each day as an important port. Basil's swords sell well, sugar too, and shipments of food keep the maritime voyages running, in addition, the market has become a solid point for merchants to conduct business. All of that requires personnel supervising it, guards, port officials, sailors, tax collectors, and other similar posts. Before, everything required almost constant oversight, now it is enough for me to appear once a week or, at times, once a month, making sure there are no failures in the administration or attempts at corruption, although for the moment no one has been caught, no matter how carefully I review the accounts.
The only problem I could say I have now is Basil's wife. Maria, a young aristocrat with twenty or thirty times more education than I possess, because her parents could afford to pay for the finest teachers.
As the wife of the strategos I must treat her with care, but if something irritated me it was her attempts to place herself at the head of the island's administration directly. Hardly had she arrived and her husband departed when she began offering help in administrative matters. It made no sense to refuse, as she is far more literate than I am in many respects and, besides, she is Basil's wife, so I had no reason to suspect anything, until I caught her copying Basil's accounting books.
There was no reason for her to do that, and it put me on alert immediately. On several occasions she had requested books about the ports, about revenues and similar records, too much interest in sensitive figures. I decided to expel her from the fortress and send her to Basil's villa, where her family lives.
If something smelled wrong, it was for a reason. I did not allow her to enter the administration again, regardless of the suggestions she claimed she would pass on to Basil. I did not care. Everything seemed suspicious to me, especially when she tried to enter the building to which only the Varangians have access.
The Varangians feel an almost unbreakable loyalty toward Basil, and when his wife tried to use that loyalty to enter a building where not even I may step inside, it was satisfying to see that they did not yield. They did not let her pass, and they reached the point of threatening to kill her if she attempted to force them to break the oaths made to their gods.
So I had to remain alert each time Maria tried to enter the administration or requested books in the city before they reached my hands. She had something underway, I felt that clearly, although I still did not know what.
"Lysander", one of the guards said, entering in haste.
"What is it? Pirates? Did they light the towers they built?", I asked, immediately on alert.
"No, a ship from the capital has just arrived. He says he is the Metropolitan of Crete and expects the highest ranking officer to receive him, since Basil is on campaign", the guard replied.
"Ah, one of those priests", I said, rising.
"It seems he wants to be received and taken to his new settlement in the city."
"So he has finally arrived. Let us hope he does not cause too many problems", I murmured as I stepped out of the fortress.
We crossed the city, passed through the inner walls, and descended toward the port after a long walk weaving through crowded markets and the shouts of merchants drawing attention with their offers. Heraklion did not sleep, not even by midmorning.
At the dock I observed the ship that had brought the priest. The cross upon the sail left no doubt.
Accompanied by the guards, I stopped before the gangplank and waited. A man with a long beard and black robes descended first, followed by several members of his retinue who began unloading crates and placing them onto a cart.
"Jesus Christ be blessed", the priest said, looking at me.
"Jesus Christ be blessed. We have awaited you for some time", I replied while assessing the group, scribes, lesser clergy, more baggage than I would have imagined.
"I wish to speak with the strategos, but I know he is on campaign against the Bulgars or what remains of them. For now, guide me to my temple, where I may enlighten the minds of the pagans here", declared the metropolitan bishop.
"Of course", I replied without argument and began walking through the streets while the guards cleared a path through the crowd toward the central market square. There stood the temple Basil had ordered built. Most of the time it remained almost empty, occupied only by a pair of clerics who slept there and traveled to the villages to preach among Varangians and Syriacs.
"Is this all?", the bishop asked after observing the building.
"That is the building the strategos ordered constructed for you", I replied, pointing to it. It was spacious, enough to house more than fifty members of the clergy without difficulty.
"The strategos is a wealthy man, enriched by violent means, but wealthy nonetheless. He could have done much more than this simple structure", he replied with disdain as he entered.
He observed the interior with evident displeasure.
"The place is empty. Plain glass instead of colored stained windows. There are no proper candelabras, only a simple cross. Do you not find it shameful that having so much he did not think of the greatness of Our Lord?", he said, staring at me.
"We did not know the date of your arrival when it was built. At that time the strategos had tight coffers and did not know how he would close the year", I replied, maintaining respect.
"Now he may use his new wealth. He could expand the temple, invest more in the image it projects. It is evident he is indulgent with pagans. There is not even an icon as one would expect from an .....iconoclast", he added, still irritated while his people arranged the crates.
"We are at war", I answered firmly.
"That is no excuse. Very well, you will order the demolition of the buildings around the temple and bring a work crew. We shall create something worthy of God here. I assume your strategos will not mind spending on matters that are truly important. I will give you a list of what I require and…"
"Who do you think you are?", I interrupted, looking at him coldly.
The bishop turned, surprised.
"This is what there is. If you do not like it, I am sorry. Without Basil's orders not a single stone is moved. And much less will I spend the strategos' gold on something the Church must pay for", I said, holding his gaze.
"This temple is insufficient for a city like Heraklion. It is the seat of the province and…"
"Without Basil's orders nothing moves", I repeated calmly. "I hope your quarters are to your liking. I return to my work."
I turned and left, noticing the hostile stares of some clerics.
Just what we were missing, now we have an idiot who thinks he can govern without Basil.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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