Episode 55
In enemy territory, it’s always best to avoid provoking the other side if you can help it.
Even if Isaac II is a fool of a ruler, this is still his capital.
If he were to lose his mind and act rashly, it could pose a significant threat to my safety.
Of course, if that happened, Isaac II would be as good as dead too, but humans don’t always act rationally.
I need to be fully prepared for any unforeseen events.
The idea of getting me drunk and having me sleep with a woman… it’s a laughable plan, but not one to be underestimated.
If I truly black out, I might unknowingly end up with a woman.
And if she were to claim she was pregnant with my child, it would put me in a difficult position.
Even if the child isn’t mine, she could still claim it is.
In modern times, a paternity test would solve this, but in this era, there’s no way to be sure.
I can vividly imagine it.
Women claiming to carry the prophet’s child, while Isaac II watches with a triumphant smile.
The thought alone is infuriating.
But I’ve promised to keep this secret, so I can’t just tell Fatima or Robert outright.
I could ask them indirectly, though.
“Fatima, how much do you know about poisons?”
This is something I should have addressed sooner, even if it wasn’t for the current situation. It’s a point of reflection for me.
“Poisons, you say? There are so many types that I can’t claim to know them all, but I’m familiar with the most effective ones for killing.”
“That’s reassuringly grim. Do assassins like you often use poison?”
“No, actually. Poisoning isn’t as easy as it sounds. First, you need a way to poison the target’s food without leaving evidence. That’s the easy part. The hard part is ensuring the poisoned food reaches only the target. If someone else tastes it first, the plan is ruined.”
“True. People under threat of assassination always check their food for poison.”
Even I have people taste my food first, ever since Richard sent them after an assassination attempt.
The dilemma is that while poison is a sure way to kill, getting the target to ingest it is the challenge.
“So, poisoning only works if the poisoner has the upper hand or the target is careless?”
“Not exactly. Poisoning through food isn’t very elegant. It leaves clear evidence that the person was poisoned. Although it’s hard to pinpoint who did it.”
“That’s true.”
I’ve used poison to eliminate many rivals in games, so I know there are countless methods.
But hearing it from a real expert is a different experience. It not only fascinates me but also keeps me alert to avoid falling victim to such tactics.
“Even with someone tasting your food, you can’t be completely safe. There’s also the method of administering small doses over time. But don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on that. Still, you should be cautious.”
“I’m aware. Please, go on.”
“If all else fails, they might try poisoning through a woman. There have been successful cases, so it’s worth being cautious.”
“Do you mean by building up a resistance to poison together or through intimate contact?”
In India, there’s a group that trains young girls from childhood to become assassins.
I asked out of curiosity, and Fatima’s eyes widened as if to say, “How did you know?”
“As expected of you! If you consume small amounts of poison from a young age, you build resistance. Many die in the process, but those who survive are resistant to most poisons. I can ingest most poisons without dying.”
“Wow… I thought only India did such crazy things.”
“Anyway, there are women like me, so don’t be complacent just because someone else drinks first. And be cautious when you’re with a woman, as she might have applied poison.”
“Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Even if it’s not just for this situation, there might come a time in my life when I face such a threat.
Being prepared could make all the difference.
Fatima, who had been watching my serious nodding, suddenly asked curiously.
“Is there a reason you brought this up?”
“I just thought it was something to be cautious about.”
“If anyone tries such a thing on you, I’ll make sure they pay dearly. I’ll use every method to make their end as painful as possible…”
Fatima’s voice rose, but when I didn’t stop her as usual, she looked at me with a curious gaze.
”…Is that okay?”
“There’s no reason it shouldn’t be.”
I have no obligation to show mercy to those who directly threaten me.
With my tacit approval, Fatima nodded vigorously and smiled brightly.
“Understood! I’ll keep a close watch. You can count on me.”
I hope it never comes to that, but I know it might.
I prepared to meet the emperor, hoping such foolishness would be delayed as long as possible.
In the morning at the Byzantine Empire’s court, where the emperor resides.
“Your Majesty, today’s meeting is more important than ever.”
“I know.”
Emperor Isaac II of Rome replied absentmindedly to the patriarch’s reminder.
“The prophet’s influence could surpass even the pope’s. If not now, then soon.”
“Who doesn’t know that? By the way, you met Marshall yesterday, didn’t you? What did you think? Is he someone I can control?”
“Your Majesty, he’s a prophet. Like Samuel or Elijah from the Bible. We should guide him to be friendly towards us, not try to control him…”
“Yes, yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Isaac II waved off the annoying advice.
What’s the big deal about a prophet?
He is the emperor of Rome.
Even if he meets the prophet, it’s the prophet who should bow, not him.
“Everything is prepared, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Still, the thought of meeting someone mentioned in the Bible was exciting.
“When is he supposed to arrive?”
“I received word that he reached the palace earlier, so he should be here soon.”
At the patriarch’s words, the emperor’s gaze turned to the entrance of the audience chamber.
As he said, the prophet’s value is indeed greater than the pope’s or the patriarch’s.
If the pope or patriarch dies, someone else takes their place, but not a prophet.
If Marshall dies, who knows when the next prophet will appear, if ever.
It took a thousand years after Christ, so it might take another thousand years, or maybe there will never be another.
No one knows, which is why Marshall’s existence commands such reverence.
“Your Majesty, he’s here.”
“Is he? Let him in.”
With the emperor’s permission, a tall, handsome young man was led in by an attendant.
His kind demeanor and determined eyes were particularly striking.
The emperor looked down at him with as much dignity as he could muster.
“You’ve traveled far. I, Isaac II, Emperor of Rome, welcome you on behalf of the empire.”
“I’m honored by your generous welcome.”
The prophet bowed respectfully.
He tried to appear confident, but to the emperor, who knew everything, he seemed merely endearing.
‘I heard he was awestruck like a country bumpkin when he visited Hagia Sophia yesterday.’
Well, objectively speaking, he is a country bumpkin.
Born in the underdeveloped West, raised in war-torn Jerusalem, and then back to the West—what would he know of a bustling city?
I’ve seen countless bumpkins gape at Constantinople.
A prophet is still human.
Faced with grandeur beyond anything he’s known, he can’t help but be impressed.
“Marshall, this must be your first time here. How do you find it? If there’s anything different from your culture that bothers you, feel free to speak up.”
“Not at all. This is the first time I’ve been in such a vibrant city, and I’m enjoying every moment.”
“Hahaha! I’m glad to hear that.”
The emperor laughed heartily, subtly observing Marshall’s face.
His gaze briefly flicked to the emperor’s crown before returning.
He was likely trying to hide his interest in the crown by pretending to look elsewhere, which was amusing.
“I heard you haven’t eaten, so I’ve arranged a banquet. Would you join me to discuss world affairs over a meal?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Good. Then let’s bring in the food.”
As soon as the emperor gave the order, lavish dishes were brought to the table and set before the guests. Although there was a designated dining area, this display was orchestrated to flaunt the emperor’s authority.
“The food might be a bit different from what you’re used to in Western Europe, but I hope it suits your taste.”
In truth, everything had been meticulously researched in advance. The people of the Eastern Roman Empire, especially those in Constantinople, often dismissed Western Europe as culturally ignorant barbarians. This sentiment extended to their cuisine as well. Unlike the Westerners, who were seen as savages for their simple roasting and boiling methods, the Eastern Romans prided themselves on their culinary heritage, which had evolved since the days of Rome.
Pork was marinated in wine and honey before being grilled to perfection, and beef was aged just right before being cooked. Today, they had even prepared a special dish of tender young goat stuffed with garlic and onions, roasted over an open flame. The sight of the glistening, succulent meat was enough to make anyone’s eyes light up with desire.
The emperor was confident that today’s proceedings would go smoothly, seeing the rustic guest’s reaction to their culture.
“How is it? Does it suit your palate?”
“It’s incredible. Your Majesty must enjoy such meals regularly. It truly makes me appreciate the grandeur of the great Roman Empire. Ah, is it too provincial of me to react this way over a meal?”
Marshal’s eyes shone with genuine admiration as he bit into the juicy meat.
“Is this the man I’m supposed to be wary of?” Emperor Isaac II cast a mocking glance at the still-tense patriarch and chuckled. He understood, though. Even biblical figures like Samuel or Elijah would likely react similarly if they were here. Such is the power of culture. And he was the emperor of the Roman Empire, the pinnacle of cultural superiority.
Pouring wine into Marshal’s empty glass, Isaac II spoke in a gentle tone, “While you’re here, feel free to enjoy this lifestyle as much as you like. In our city, this doesn’t even count as indulgence, so there’s no need to worry. Oh, and we’ll fully support the council preparations, so rest easy.”
“With such generosity, I don’t know how to express my gratitude…”
“Hahaha! No need for thanks. As the head of the Orthodox Church and the emperor granted authority by God to rule the empire, this is the least I can do.”
The conversation was now firmly in his control. With a satisfied smile, the emperor signaled, and a group of women entered the room. They were carefully selected noblewomen, renowned for their beauty even in Constantinople.
Isaac II, careful not to mock Marshal’s visible surprise, spoke softly, “Just to clarify, these are not common women who pour drinks and flirt with men. They are devout Orthodox believers from esteemed families, who insisted on meeting you out of admiration for your reputation. So, please, don’t misunderstand.”
“Ah, yes. If that’s the case…”
Wine, food, and women—there’s no better combination to unsettle a man.
“Forgive me, but I’ll strip you to the bone. Still, you’ll have your share of fun, so don’t hold it against me,” the emperor thought with a sly grin.
The outcome was already clear. Isaac II’s laughter, filled with satisfaction, echoed as he continued to sip his wine. Meanwhile, Marshal simply smiled back at the emperor, raising his glass in return.