Act 9: The Oathbreaker (Part 11)
eleven
When young nobles have the idea of inviting friends, they are often unaware of the tedious preparations involved—"We have too few servants and slaves." Even Schumeer sighed every day, "It's not in accordance with etiquette."
"Do we really have to follow all those hypocritical formalities?" Yakov was fed up with them. "I see you've managed this perfectly. You changed the carpet, added a vase, what more do you want?"
"What about the food and drinks? What about the entertainment and musicians?" Schumer crossed his arms. "How can those two Slavic cooks you bought possibly manage a banquet? And there's no fine wine in stock!"
“If that Greek kid can’t stand these things, he shouldn’t have come to Yubi.” Yakov scoffed. “Yubi isn’t a Greek nobleman.”
"I can't reason with you, you barbarian!" Schumer called out to Yubi, groping the doorpost in frustration. "What do you think? Let's add a few more slaves, or hire a few servants!"
“I suppose he’s my friend and shouldn’t mind,” Yubi replied from afar, engrossed in his newly purchased distillation apparatus in his small room. “He said he’s only visiting with a gift and a servant, and isn’t extravagant. Wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to buy him extra slaves?”
Shumel heard Yakov nod in agreement and scratched his head. "Like master, like apprentice," he muttered, turning to leave and tapping his guide cane with a clatter. "I've given my advice; I've done my duty!"
Yakov wondered, who was the master and who was the apprentice in those words? He pondered this question in the Knights and the port until May, when the flowers in the city had all faded and the breath of summer was beginning to emerge—when the day actually came, Yakov and Yubi were dumbfounded.
"Not a person of extravagance?" Yakov gripped Yubi's shoulder tightly. "Which eye of yours makes you think that?"
“How was I supposed to know he would do that!” Yubi exclaimed, her eyes wide. “He didn’t mention it at the university salon!”
“I really wish some superior able-bodied person would take pity on their blind friends and tell me what you see?” Schumeer grumbled behind them. “Is this person wearing clothes made of jewels, or riding a horse with a saddle made of gold?”
"Nothing," Yubi murmured.
“Our gardeners will not only have to grow flowers in the future, but also feed birds,” Yakov said. “This man brought two peacocks as a gift.”
Diophantus Philactus—taller than Yubi, with sun-kissed golden curls and sky-blue eyes, his handsome face and well-proportioned figure reminiscent of Apollo, seemingly capable of illuminating the night—Yakov couldn't help but think upon seeing this nobleman that, were it not for his Slavic features, blond hair and blue eyes could also be a symbol of beauty. This thought filled him with inexplicable disgust for this strikingly handsome nobleman; his face seemed to constantly remind him that he was unworthy to dine at the same table as Yubi. "I know the knight you've appointed is a Slav," the young nobleman named Diophantus said, arrogantly yet with restrained chin, "but I didn't expect your steward to be Jewish, and blind at that."
Schumer's face darkened with embarrassment, as if obscured by a rain cloud. "...Jews are good at this," Yubi explained, "He is my friend and has done me a favor."
“Haha, it’s nothing. There are many people who use [illegible characters] as servants. These pagan slaves are often more loyal to you and know their place.” Diophantus raised his wine cup, took a sip, and frowned. “What’s this awful stuff?”
Yubi also picked up the cup and took a sip—but he wasn't wearing the ring and couldn't taste it. He only noticed that Yakov, sitting next to him on the recliner, felt his blood rushing and his heart racing—"This is a Rus' drink, and I specifically wanted you to try it..." He forced himself to act like the master of the house, "I think it tastes pretty good."
“Foreigners always have such strange tastes,” Diophantus remarked nonchalantly. “You never mentioned where you found these two odd friends?”
"Only the two of them escorted me here to find my sister..."
"I see." Diophantus feigned understanding after hearing only half of it. "Losing your mother is indeed a dangerous situation. If someone hadn't helped you escape, your brother might have eliminated you, this scourge."
He launched into a long, complex tale of court secrets and intrigues, from the emperor's successor to the hostages of Hungary, from Antioch's submission to the Venetian rebellion. Yakov didn't recognize the similar names; how many people were named Alexius and Andronica? And what did it matter which woman was pregnant and which child had died? Poisoning, exile, fabricated charges, spreading rumors—he discovered that the civilized, noble Greek nobles were discussing the same sordid secrets with the vulgar Khan they spoke of—and Yubi was listening intently. Yakov couldn't help but think sadly that he should indeed listen. The Blood Slave immediately understood why Yubi had made such a friend.
"I heard the Venetians are raising money to attack us this summer." The guests at the table didn't touch their food. "I'd love for them to come, so they can empty the overcrowded prison."
"Can our fleet defeat them?" Yubi asked. "It is said that the Venetian shipyards are very powerful."
"Ha, you're afraid of these vulgar, profit-driven merchants?" Diophantus laughed. "No matter how powerful they are, they can't reach Constantinople."
“But I’m planning to get into the spice business,” Yubi said dejectedly, leaning against the pillow. “What if they surround the Aegean Sea and my ships can’t navigate?”
“Didn’t you want this knight to help you set sail?” Theopheros sat up and pointed at Yakov. “The Venetian fleet doesn’t stop the Knights Templar’s ships; in fact, many of the Knights Templar’s ships are leased from them.”
“Not necessarily,” Yakov interjected, frowning. “Most of their ships have been confiscated and are now owned by the Greeks.”
His words seemed to chill the food on the table. "You're a knight, why don't you lead your soldiers into a naval battle?" The arrogant nobleman squinted at him. "The Aegean Sea may not have Venetians, but there are Slavic pirates. You can't just join the order and become a demure nun, forgetting how to wield a sword."
Outside on the balcony, the peacock in the garden was calling out in a grating, hoarse voice, pecking at the wisteria blossoms, forcing the gardener to carefully shoo it away. The male bird, its dark, gleaming eyes darting about, swaggered and proudly raised its enormous, shimmering, fan-like tail—unfortunately, those in the drawing room could only clearly see its huge, ugly rear end, and even the servants and maids couldn't help but laugh—Yubi could only secretly grab Yakov's hand to comfort him, but Yakov was still furious. He thought, if this brat weren't a nobleman, he would have already grabbed his clothes and pinned him against the wall to see who had forgotten how to hold a sword!
Diophantus, strutting his dazzling blond hair with an air of arrogance, climbed off the couch and went to the balcony. He picked up a finely bound book from the cabinet, examining the cover meaningfully by candlelight, then flipped through a couple of pages. "By the way, it's Ascension Day in two weeks, a perfect time for mountain climbing." He then carefully put the book back. "I've heard that His Majesty the Emperor has organized a hunting expedition specifically for the young nobles. Would you like to come with me and the others to take a look?"
“Really? But I’ve never been on a hunt before.” Yubi glanced cautiously at Yakov’s face. “Who can I take with me?”
“Knights of the Templars are forbidden from hunting any animal except lions,” Yakov said sternly. “Hunting is a depraved and hedonistic activity.”
“Then you can do it yourself. My family has plenty of hunters.” Diophantus’s smile was full of mockery. “Let this man, who is neither a monk nor a knight, stay in the church.”
Yubi's face showed a troubled expression, but Yakov remained silent beneath his mustache, like a stubborn, unyielding rock—this was the most composed thing he could do. At this moment, Schumeer, who hadn't spoken for a while, suddenly spoke. "Hunting isn't just about pleasure; it's a good opportunity to hone skills and discipline. It strengthens the body and deepens camaraderie." His lips moved back and forth beneath his mustache. "Besides, what if there are lions in the forests outside? That would be a perfect time for the Templars to show their skills."
Why was this Jew admonishing himself? Yakov couldn't understand. The lions of the Balkans had been hunted to extinction by the Romans a thousand years ago; how could they possibly appear on the outskirts of Constantinople? "Your steward is truly a sensible man. You decide on this matter and give me your answer in a couple of days at the university salon. Then I can tell you what to prepare," the blond nobleman praised him. "Your villa is exquisitely beautiful, but the food is lacking. It seems I should send you two chefs rather than peacocks!"
The tedious gathering finally ended, and they saw the blond nobleman off at the door, each of them utterly exhausted. "Your friend is even more arrogant and frivolous than the peacock he sent," Yakov said, looking at the entire table of food, having barely tasted any of it. "You can try to get information from him, but you must never become like that yourself."
"Arrogant and reckless, yet perhaps with a deep mind," Schumeer said, nudging Yakov with his cane. "What if this man is even more astute than you?"
"Deeply thoughtful?" This remark shocked Yubi. "Is he not just as ignorant and fearless as I was when I was a child? I thought I understood what he was thinking, which is why I befriended him..."
“You’ve known each other for only a few days, and he already knows you’ve lost your mother and have an older brother who’s taken over your territory. I think this man probably used his connections to find out everything about you—except, of course, the vampire thing.” Schumeer recounted the story, his words earnest yet cautious. “He gave you a peacock, belittled the taste of the food and drinks, but only touched on the subject. He talked at length about what he had seen and heard, but never mentioned his own family situation, only subtly flaunting the power he wielded.”
“I suspect it was you who personally told him about the spice trade and the Knights of Favonius. He then questioned Yakov’s ability to open up sea routes and control merchant ships. You see, this is a shady business—so he used the invitation to a hunt to test Yakov’s position within the Knights of Favonius.”
“If he doesn’t go, he thinks Yakov is bound by the rules of the tribe and can’t accomplish anything. Smuggling spices is out of the question; if he goes, he might still think that Yakov is brave and resourceful, not a simple-minded, muscle-bound barbarian.”
Yakov pondered Schumer's words. "...It's not as frightening as you make it out to be." He denied it, but carefully recalled the nobleman's every move, and moved to the balcony. "You can't see him, you can only hear his words. That boy, like Yubi, is just a young and inexperienced nobleman."
“Ah, I think it’s precisely because I can’t see that I can better understand the meaning behind those words.” Schumeer sat down in a chair.
Yakov recalled how the nobleman named Diophantus had first mocked him, then been lured to the balcony by the peacock's display of its plumage, and even eyed Yubi's book—he picked it up and noticed a beautiful young man holding a water jug on the cover, with the title "Gamimedes of Crete" written in Greek. "What book is this?" A sense of foreboding rose in Yakov's heart. "Who put this here?"
"What book?" Yubi, seeing his nervousness, rushed to look. "Oh, it's a housewarming gift from Cicero, do you remember him? The notary who was good at drafting contracts..." He suddenly fell silent, wary. "I haven't read this book yet. Isn't it a book of Greek mythology? Ganymede was one of Zeus's male lovers..."
Without a word, Yakov snatched the book from Yubi's hands. He held his breath before daring to open the pages.
The ominous premonition came true—a flood of obscene images filled the blood slave's vision, all of them depicting the flesh of the beautiful boy on the cover.
Yakov was so angry that his eyes turned black, and he gritted his teeth, throwing the beautifully framed book into the hot spring pool next to him.
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