At that moment, too, in obedience to some sign which she made, Martina
left the chamber, looking at me oddly as she did so. I came and stood
before the Empress, who, I noted, seemed somewhat troubled, for her
breast heaved and her gaze was fixed upon the floor now. It was of
mosaic, and represented a heathen goddess talking to a young man, who
stood before her with his arms folded. The goddess was angry with the
man, and held in her left hand a dagger as though she would stab him,
although her right arm was stretched out to embrace him and her attitude
was one of pleading.
Irene lifted her head, and I saw that her fine eyes were filled with
tears.
“Olaf,” she said, “I am in much trouble, and I know not where to find a
friend.”
I smiled and answered:
“Need an Empress seek far for friends?”
“Aye, Olaf; farther than anyone who breathes. An Empress can find
flatterers and partisans, but not a single friend. Such love her only
for what she can give them. But, if fortune went against her, I say that
they would fall away like leaves from a tree in a winter frost, so that
she stood naked to every bitter blast of heaven. Yes, and then would
come the foe and root up that tree and burn it to give them warmth and
to celebrate their triumph. So I think, Olaf, it will be with me before
all is done. Even my son hates me, Olaf, my only child for whose true
welfare I strive night and day.”
“I have heard as much, Augusta,” I said.
“You have heard, like all the world. But what else of ill have you heard
of me, Olaf? Speak out, man; I’m here to learn the truth.”
“I have heard that you are very ambitious, Augusta, and that you hate
your son as much as he hates you, because he is a rival to your power.
It is rumoured that you would be glad if he were dead and you left to
reign alone.”
“Then a lie is rumoured, Olaf. Yet it is true that I am ambitious, who
see far and would build this tottering empire up afresh. Olaf, it is a
bitter thing to have begotten a fool.”
“Then why do you not marry again and beget others, who might be no
fools, Augusta?” I asked bluntly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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