Chapter 123
Silence crept between them, filled only by the sound of the wind carrying dust and the faint rhythm of thousands of footsteps from below the hill.
Under the scorching nine o'clock sun on the hill of Heraclea Cybistra, Nirma closed her eyes tightly, letting the orange light seep through the thin veil of her eyelids, and suddenly she returned to the grand hall of the Blachernae Palace three months earlier.
She could still feel the cold marble beneath her feet, see the reflection of candlelight dancing across the gold-adorned walls, hear the echo of Emperor Alexios' voice resounding throughout the chamber as the false Leontios was brought in with chains binding both his hands.
The nobles present, Megas Domestikos Adrianos Komnenos in his purple robe symbolizing his closeness to the throne, Nikephoros Melissenos whose eyes shone with relief, Konstantinos Dalassenos who still clutched the cross at his chest, Georgios Palaiologos whose posture remained firm despite the rise and fall of relieved breaths, and Ioannis Taronites whose tears nearly spilled as their names were finally cleared of all accusations, all looked at Nirma and Arya as if they were heroes descended from mythology.
"You have not only restored our honor," Emperor Alexios said at the time, his voice deep and authoritative, echoing from marble wall to marble wall.
"You have saved Byzantium from a civil war that might have erupted if these accusations had continued to linger without certainty. Eighteen crusaders were killed, and all initial clues pointed to those closest to me. Imagine if you had failed, if you had not found this Leontios, what would have happened?"
Nirma merely bowed her head, feigning humility, though deep inside she knew that the truth was far more complex than what these medieval minds could accept.
Adrianos Komnenos stepped forward, took Nirma's hand, and kissed it with deep respect, a gesture that startled her though she tried to conceal it.
"We owe you our lives, Nirmala Surdaya. If not for your brilliance, I might have lost my position, or worse, my head."
Nikephoros Melissenos, usually silent, suddenly spoke with an unusual warmth that contrasted with his reputation as a cold soldier.
"I will prepare the grandest feast at my residence, Nirma, Arya. You will taste roasted meat cooked for three days, wine from the finest Aegean islands, and dances that will make you forget you were ever exhausted from this investigation."
Konstantinos Dalassenos nodded quickly, adding, "And at my residence, you will have the finest chamber, with windows directly overlooking the Golden Horn. I swear, the sunset from there is something you will never forget in your lifetime."
Georgios Palaiologos simply smiled broadly, yet his eyes spoke volumes, honest and sincere gratitude conveyed without the need for words.
Ioannis Taronites, the youngest among them, even knelt before Nirma and Arya, startling both of them as they quickly helped him back to his feet.
"Don't do that," Arya said quickly, his voice slightly uneasy. "We were only doing our duty."
The candlelight in Blachernae Palace flickered across the marble walls as Arya almost nodded, almost accepted the overflowing invitations from the five esteemed Byzantine nobles.
His thoughts drifted to the roasted meat mentioned by Nikephoros Melissenos, to the wines of the Aegean islands, to the chamber overlooking the Golden Horn promised by Konstantinos Dalassenos.
But before his neck could even lower half an inch, before the word "yes" could escape his lips, Nirma had already stepped forward, her slender figure suddenly becoming the center of attention in that silent hall.
With utmost respect, with a bow so deep her forehead nearly touched her chest, Nirma lowered herself before Emperor Alexios and the five nobles surrounding him.
"Your Majesty, honored lords," she said, her voice firm yet gentle to the ear, "with all due humility, Arya and I cannot accept these noble offers."
Behind her, Arya widened his eyes, his jaw tightening briefly before he regained control, maintaining a neutral expression even as a thousand questions screamed silently within him.
He stared at Nirma's upright back despite her bow, trying to read her thoughts from the firm line of her shoulders.
Emperor Alexios frowned, his well-kept beard shifting with curiosity.
"Cannot accept?" he repeated, his tone not angry but filled with questions.
"We are offering the highest honor to the finest investigators I have ever seen in this palace, and you refuse it just like that?"
Adrianos Komnenos beside the Emperor nodded, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Nirma in a new way, with respect mixed with curiosity.
Nirma slowly raised her head, her single eye meeting the Emperor's gaze, while the empty socket of her other eye remained still yet seemed to speak.
"It is not refusal out of disrespect, Your Majesty. It is precisely because we value it so highly that we wish to ask for something else, something that can only be granted by the Emperor himself."
Silence spread through the grand chamber, filled only by the faint rustle of robes as the six most important figures in Byzantium exchanged glances.
Emperor Alexios let out a long breath, then gave a faint smile, the smile of a ruler rarely faced with unexpected requests.
"I have promised to grant one wish after your hard work," he said, his voice echoing softly among the marble walls.
"And an Emperor never breaks his word. Tell me, Nirmala Surdaya, what do you and Arya desire? A position? Land? A noble title? All can be arranged."
Nirma shook her head slowly, her gaze steady upon the Emperor.
"None of those, Your Majesty. We do not seek wealth, power, or worldly honors. Our wish is simple, yet of great meaning to both of us. We wish to meet the crusader army, Your Majesty."
"Not in Constantinople, not here, but when they have reached Central Anatolia. Specifically, when they arrive at Heraclea Cybistra."
The air in the palace chamber suddenly felt thin, as if all oxygen had been drawn away by the words that had just left Arya's lips.
Emperor Alexios stared at them with widened eyes, his well-kept beard trembling with a mixture of disbelief and restrained anger.
Adrianos Komnenos, usually calm, now looked as if he might leap from his place, his hand already half-raised in protest.
Nikephoros Melissenos shook his head, whispering something to Konstantinos Dalassenos, who could only shrug with a pale face.
Georgios Palaiologos gripped the sword at his waist tightly, not out of aggression, but out of confusion seeking something to hold onto.
Ioannis Taronites, the youngest among them, opened his mouth several times but no sound came out, like a fish out of water.
"Disappear?" Emperor Alexios' voice finally broke, shattering the suffocating silence.
"You say you will disappear? For three months? And after that, you might leave forever?"
Question after question poured out from the six most powerful voices in Byzantium, overflowing like an unstoppable flood.
Why Heraclea Cybistra?
What is so special about that small city on the edge of Anatolia?
What matter could be more important than the Emperor's reward?
Why disappear without a word?
Had they not just restored the palace's honor?
Was this some kind of self-imposed punishment?
Or perhaps a misguided form of devotion?
To be continued…