"Of course, of course," he gushed, hoping that his forced enthusiasm did not ring as hollow to Athanatadies' ears as it did to his own. "I have already made a few inquiries in regard to the household and it is nothing to make a few more."
"You're more active than you were before," Athanatadies said reflectively. "When did this come upon you?"
"I have been active in your interests for years," Panaigios said, protesting with some emotion. "You have given me the office to pursue certain of your interests on your behalf and I have done all that I might to fulfill your mandate."
"Now, there's no need to be huffy," Athanatadies soothed, his fingertips still meeting lightly. "You are always alert to any criticism, and often this is against your better judgment. I said nothing to chide you now, merely to observe that your actions would at last appear to be gathering fruit. I assume that you have already made some inquiries into the workings of the household of Belisarius, since that was required of you many months ago. In the past you have complied with my instructions promptly and I can see no reason why this case should be any different, and I know of a great many why you might wish to be especially careful where Belisarius is concerned."
Panaigios did his best to appear studious. "You have honored me with many requests, Censor, and I have striven to comply with your requirements as best I can. Certainly there have been times when this was not easily accomplished, but there are other instances when I have done all that I might to see that your instructions were carried out to the fullest."
"Who is your man in Belisarius' household?" The demand was casual, even offhanded, but Panaigios knew that if he did not answer it honestly and at once his life might easily be forfeit.
"My man there is the eunuch Simones." He tried to meet the hard gaze of Athanatadies and did not entirely succeed. "One or two others, far less significant slaves, I assure you, are also being employed to watch in minor matters."
"This Simones, is he trustworthy?" asked Athanatadies.
"What slave is trustworthy?" Panaigios countered, buying a little time.
"I am asking about this Simones. Do you trust him?" There was no suggestion in his tone that he would permit Panaigios to avoid answering him.
"To a degree, yes I do. But that is not saying a great deal." He paused, gathering his thoughts and desperately trying to guess what it was that Kimon Athanatadies wanted to know. "I know that Antonina relies on him and that he has some power in the household. I know that he is regarded with… respect by other slaves in the household. He has been reasonably cooperative with me and has only hesitated when he has been pressed to act in a way against his master's or mistress' interests. How much of this is loyalty and how much is simple survival, I do not know and have no way of telling. He has brought me regular reports, and those of the other, lesser slaves have supported what he said. I am not God, and I do not read the hearts of those I employ. I am limited to assessing what they do and how well they do it, and in this case I believe that he is doing his best to accommodate me without compromising himself with Belisarius too badly."
"Serving the staff of the Court Censor does not compromise him," said Athanatadies with austerity, then added, "but I suppose he does not yet believe this. It is a complicated thing for a slave to understand. They are simple creatures, which is why God appointed them to their role in life." He hesitated, his face so blank that he might have been one of the ikons on the wall. "You know, Panaigios, a man in your position does well to show a little zeal."
Caught off-guard by this shift in conversation, Panaigios could not keep from asking, "A man in my position? Isn't it preferable that I be dedicated to the work I am given?"
"Yes, but a man of vision and zeal might find a way to take on the tasks at their widest setting. For example, a man like you with those connections into the house of Belisarius might be in a position, now that there is a tragedy about to occur there, to seize the advantage of such sorrow and unearth the truth of this conspiracy against the Emperor. A man who guards his tongue at other times, when mourning his wife might say things that otherwise he would not. A man who was present, or whose agents were present, might then have information of vast significance that would be welcomed not only by me, but by Justinian himself." He regarded Panaigios. "You have been searching for oracles: heed this one."
"I…" Panaigios did not grasp all that Athanatadies was telling him, but he had sense enough to address the question directly. "I… am to find evidence, by any means, that will at last implicate Belisarius in a conspiracy, and you suggest that I use the occasion of his wife's failing health and death as the means to secure it."
"That was not precisely what I said, but I would not stop you from interpreting my words in that way." He rose. "We are in grave danger, Panaigios. There are plotters all around us and all desire to see the Emperor cast down. He himself has said to me that he fears enemies in every corner and that he is more certain than ever that only his timely recalling of Belisarius prevented the General from acting against him."
"Yes; of course." Panaigios made himself be silent for he knew he was dangerously near babbling.
"All that is lacking is actual confirmation of these plots. Once they are in the Emperor's hands, he will be relieved for there will be necessary action required by the proofs. You do understand the problem, don't you?" He was walking away from Panaigios, his dalmatica almost dragging on the floor to hide the misshapen foot no one dared mention.
"Ah… I believe I do," Panaigios said cautiously. "You want some letter or other document that would disclose all the men involved, and their general aims."
"That would be useful," Athanatadies said. "As Antonina grows weaker, it is likely that Belisarius will be less careful, and a prudent slave might discover much. Find out for me how much longer we have to wait; remember."
"I will; I will." He was starting to sweat and his eyes stung. This was a morass, he feared, an abyss that he was sliding into that once in he would never escape. He recalled that all of Kimon Athanatadies' personal slaves were mutes and for the first time he felt the full impact of this. "I will send for Simones and get all the information I can out of him. I will send a report to you within two days. I will make certain that if there is any information at all about Antonina's health and the cause of her illness that I discover everything I can about it."
"You know, it is not impossible that a desperate man might attempt many desperate things, such as poisoning his own wife." This was said with an air of speculation and hopefulness that filled Panaigios with dread.
"No, Censor," he said firmly. "There are many things that Belisarius might do in his distress, but hurt his wife in any way is not one of them. You and I may think of Antonina as a difficult, demanding and manipulative woman, but Belisarius loves her to adoration, and he would rather run on his sword like a godless Roman than bring any harm to her. He is more anguished by her ailment than he is by his disgrace. There are many people who know this and you might persuade them that Zeus really brings rain more readily than convince them that Belisarius would have any part in hurting Antonina."
"It was a thought," said Athanatadies with a shrug. "Pity. It would have saved so much effort." He walked a little farther. "What about that Roman woman? The widow who's Belisarius' friend? What of her? Would she have a hand in this?"
"There is nothing to link Olivia Clemens with Antonina's poor health. In the last year, Antonina has spent very little time with Olivia, and if there is opportunity for the Roman woman to give her anything poison, I know nothing of it, and I doubt it would be possible to make it appear that this was the case. Olivia occasionally visits Belisarius and often inquires after Antonina, but the two women never developed any closeness and therefore the household would not be likely to support the notion that she would harm Antonina."
"Not even to have Belisarius for herself?" suggested Athanatadies.
"Captain Drosos is her lover. He has said that she has refused to marry him." He sighed, for he knew that Athan
atadies did not like the answers he was providing.
"She was waiting for a better match," Athanatadies guessed.
"A disgraced General without soldiers, stripped of everything but rank and confined to the city?" Panaigios shook his head. "If she had been hankering for Belisarius, she had ample opportunity to pursue him in Roma, and all the officers say she did not. She has been enamored of Drosos from the first."
"But Drosos is in Alexandria now, isn't he? What if this is a subtle plot, one that requires a go-between, and this Olivia is the one who serves that purpose?" Athanatadies had folded his arms, although his wide, gold-embroidered pallium shoved his arms upward when he did.
"There are better go-betweens, and as far as the spies can tell, no one has been leaving messages with Olivia for
Belisarius or anyone else, not even Drosos." He leaned back. "It might be wiser to search for the culprits elsewhere."
"You would appear to be protecting these people," said Athanatadies sharply.
"No. But if you wish to bring others into the matter, it is essential—or so it seems to me—that they be plausible. There are others who would be more… acceptable conspirators than these. If Drosos were here, there might be a way, for he has often railed against what he claims is the unfairness of Belisarius' recall and restrictions. But he does not wish to go against the wishes of the Emperor or his General. If anyone was eager for a conspiracy, it was Antonina. And she… she—"
"Yes," said Athanatadies slowly. "Yes. I accept your reservations for the time being, but I must say that I still believe that there is proof of some sort, somewhere, of a conspiracy that will be acceptable and believable and will show that Justinian was not mistaken in his fears." He swung around and all but blocked Panaigios in his chair. "You know what is required."
"I do," Panaigios said tensely.
"Excellent. I expect to have your report in two days' time. Speak to that eunuch Simones and see what you can accomplish between you." He joined his hands prayerfully. "I repose great faith in you, Panaigios. Do not forget that."
Panaigios nodded, finding the burden almost too much to bear. "Censor."
Athanatadies stepped back. "You have much to do, haven't you? And it is time you were about your tasks." He waved his dismissal. "Pray for guidance, Panaigios," he recommended before he left his secretary.
As Panaigios made his way back to his chariot, he felt numb; the problems heaped upon him by Athanatadies seemed insurmountable, and he was left with the sinking conviction that if he failed to do as the Censor required he would meet a fate far more ghastly than the one Athana-tadies had planned for Belisarius. As he reached his chariot, he realized that he had never been given the refreshments the Censor had requested, and this only served to make his apprehension more acute.
As the Guards saluted him as he left, Panaigios felt he was fleeing the firely rivers of Hell.
Text of an official order from the Emperor Justinian to the garrison at Alexandria.
On the Feast of the Annunciation, the Emperor Justinian through the good offices of his Court Censor sends his greetings and commendations to the garrison at Alexandria, in particular to Captain Drosos who commands there and who is known to be devoted to us in all things.
In order that the work of Christ shall spread more quickly throughout the world, we have authorized the burning or similar destruction of all texts that are not of Christian origin and thought. In Konstantinoupolis there has been a most successful extirpation of the weeds of heresy that spring up from such writings because of the willingness of the people to aid in their own salvation. Hundreds of texts, perhaps thousands, have been cleansed in the flames, and surely the smoke that rises to Heaven from such pyres must be sweet indeed.
So far we have observed and approved the progress of these acts and have said that there is much merit for the soul in pious devotion of this sort. We are assured by those advanced in the Church that our course is in accord with the course of God.
Therefore we have decided to extend our mandate and to require that all those living within the Empire show a similar zeal to the Konstantinoupolitans who have eradicated apostasy from their midst. Now we wish the rest of the Empire to show that it is as devout and as worthy as any soul in Byzantion. To that end, we require that the institution known as the Library at Alexandria, by which we include the Mother and all Daughter Libraries with the exception of the one Daughter Library devoted to Christian writings, be burned in order to erase the taint of godlessness more completely from the world.
It is our wish that this be accomplished at Epiphany, to show the offering we bring to Christ in as pure a heart as the Company of Kings who waited upon Him in worldly submission.
With the concurrence of the Court Censor, the popes and metropolitans of the Church, we exhort all of you of the Alexandrian garrison to be firm in your purpose and to persevere in this most Christian undertaking.
By the hand of the Court Censor and at our order.
Justinian
Emperor of Byzantion
his sigil
7
Zejhil's hands were shaking as she heard the door open behind her. The vial she held slipped from her fingers and broke on the floor.
In the door Niklos Aulirios stood, his attitude uncertain, as he watched the slave struggle to hide her shock. "All right," he said after a moment. "What are you doing here?"
"I… I was sent to fetch perfume," she said lamely, and turned her large, Tartar eyes on him.
Niklos, who at first had not been very suspicious, now came into the room, closing the door behind him. "For whom?"
"My mistress…"As soon as she began, she knew she had made a mistake and she flushed.
"No, not your mistress, Zejhil. She keeps her perfumes with her in her sleeping chamber, and we both know it. You must be very nervous if you forgot that." He strolled over to her and looked down at her. "You're white."
"I'm startled," she said weakly.
"You're terrified," he corrected her, not as gently as he might have done under other circumstances. "Why is that?"
"No reason." She gave a jerk to her shoulders in an attempt to dismiss or minimize his question.
"I doubt that," Niklos said, and took her gently by the arm, turning her so that some of the light from the window reached her face. "You're up to something, and you don't like it."
"No!" She tried to pull away but found that the easy, firm grip was unbreakable.
"Yes." He could feel her tremble and he saw the sick terror at the back of her eyes. "Zejhil, tell me what you were doing in here and why."
She gave a cry and brought up her hands, palms out, as if to ward off blows. "I can't. I can't. Do not ask me!"
"Zejhil…"He let her name trail off. "Listen to me."
She had contrived to turn away from him, to wriggle as far as his hold would permit. "Let me go," she said sullenly.
"I can't do that," he said softly. "You were taking a vial of perfume from my mistress' chest. Perfume is valuable, and that might mean that you are a thief. Since Olivia has reposed trust in you, she must know of this, and at once." He saw a little of the dread fade from her face. "Or perhaps you weren't stealing at all; perhaps you were putting something in that was not here before." Until he spoke the words he had not considered this possibility, but as he said them, he became sure that was what he had seen.
As if to confirm this, Zejhil kicked up at his shin and let out a loud shriek.
"Something in," said Niklos as he quickly sidestepped her first attack and braced himself for the second. "You were told by someone to put something in the chest, weren't you? What was it and who told you?" He continued to hold her, though now he shifted his stance enough to keep her from being able to strike out at him with her fists.
"Let go!" she yelled and was turned suddenly so that her back was pressed hard against his chest and his forearm served in part to gag her.
"No, I will not," he said, still without anger. "You were supposed, to be wat
ching the household for Olivia. She requested you do this, and we thought you were doing well. And now this."
"It's not… not—" The words were cut off again.
"You have a great deal to answer for," said Niklos, a stern note coming into his voice.
Whatever protests Zejhil wanted to register were lost against the force of his arm.
"I think we had better go carefully. If someone has suborned you, there's no saying how many of the other slaves are taking payment from outside." He moved her toward the closed door. "When I open this, if you scream, I will knock you out and carry you. Is that understood?"
Zejhil nodded wildly, trying to signal him with one of her confined hands.
"Very good," Niklos approved. "Now stand up straight and pretend that you're feeling weak, as if you were taken suddenly ill. I don't want any more gossip than necessary about this incident." He waited while she complied, and then he pulled the door open.
The hall was empty, but before they had gone more than a dozen steps, Niklos saw one of the cook's two scrubbing boys peering around the corner. A little farther on and he found the head groom sweeping the garden steps—a task that was not his—and just beyond him, one of the gardeners pretended to be busy trimming back the ornamental apple tree.
By the time Niklos got to Olivia's private apartments, he had counted no less than eight of the household, and this made him nervous in a way it would not have done six months before.
Olivia had been sorting dried herbs, but she abandoned this task as she saw Niklos come into the room, half-dragging Zejhil with him. Dressed in her old-fashioned palla and stolae, she seemed distinctly out of place in the room. "What on earth—"
"I'm afraid we're in for difficulties," Niklos said as he closed the door and latched it.
A Flame in Byzantium aoc-1 Page 25