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look after, and Anthimos has not proved himself capable of taking on such responsibilities yet. If you were anyone else, I would not ask this of you, since your condition means you cannot be expected to perform a man’s duties, but I trust you above all others, and you have never given me reason to regret that trust.”
    Vasilios bowed low at that. “I will endeavor to be more firm with the household eunuchs and servants, if it pleases you, my master,” he said, voice soft, and Panagiotis smiled.
    “Even when you were young and newly cut, you pleased me, Vasilios,” Panagiotis told him, then closed his eyes. “Leave me now. I need to rest.”
    Vasilios bowed again, then made his way out of the room as quietly as possible, and closed the two great doors behind him.
     
     
    I T TOOK him several weeks to find a seller possessing land that fit Markos’s description. Then a little more time to arrive at an offer the seller was likely to accept. He was careful to run each plan by Damianos and Panagiotis and to not move forward until he had their approval. Panagiotis spent more and more time confined to his bed these days. Vasilios worried about him and spent more of each day overseeing the running of the house and of Panagiotis’s business.
    He had too much to do, Vasilios thought, as he sat at his writing desk with the papers from the seller drawn up in front of him. Really, he should send a serving boy with the papers to Markos’s house while he oversaw the wine shipment that was being delivered to the kitchens. Yet Panagiotis had said Vasilios would bring the papers, and the Gods help him, he was going to be a tiny bit selfish, do what he wanted to do, and follow those orders to the letter and go himself.
    Outside it was raining. Vasilios stood, took up the papers, and wrapped them in sheepskin to protect them against water damage. He tucked the bundle of papers under his arm and headed down the stairs, nodding at the guards as he passed.
    At the front door, he stopped and took the black linen scarf he wore draped around his shoulders. He pulled it up to cover his head and wrapped and tucked it until it was well secured. Then he turned to the older guard who stood at the door.
    “Tell Bröndulfr to let those who might need to know that I am gone to deliver business papers to General Markos Özdemir’s house and I will be back when my business with the General is complete.”
    The guard bowed slightly. “Do you need someone to accompany you?” he asked, and Vasilios shook his head.
    “I should be fine. It is a short walk.” He opened the door and made his way out into the front courtyard and across to the gate. He nodded to the guards who stood, cloaks pulled up against the rain, and they nodded back, swung open the heavy iron gates, and allowed him to make his way out into the street.
    After the relative calm of the house, the busyness of the streets was always a shock. Even here in this section of the city, which was mostly huge villa complexes, servants ran back and forth down the streets. Bodyguards walked ahead of their masters or mistresses, clearing the way, while some members of the elite were carried on lecticae by their personal eunuchs. There were also soldiers on horseback, wearing the insignia that marked them as officers pinned to their right shoulders where it secured their cloaks.
    Vasilios wove between the groups of people, avoiding both horses and lecticae while trying not to be splashed by muddy water. Luckily he had not been lying when he’d told the guard it was not a long walk. Markos’s house was higher up the hill that led to the Imperial Palace, but it was not as big as Panagiotis’s sprawling complex.
    “I am here to deliver business papers for the General from Panagiotis Xarchakos,” Vasilios told the soldier at Markos’s gate, who nodded and let him in.
    Vasilios made his way across the small courtyard and knocked on the door. An older serving woman opened it.
    “I am from