Portrait of Shade

by Benjamin Ford

  ‘But he reappears in my own time, so obviously I don’t succeed in defeating him in this time.’

  ‘It is not your task in this time to defeat Diocletian, as will one day become clear to you. His return to Atlantis comes later. Your only task for the moment is to recover the three Power Jewels and return with them to Spiridon. He will then be able to guide you on to the next phase.’

  ‘Next phase?’ gasped Eudora. ‘My task is not completed here then?’

  Cassandra shook her head. ‘Far from it. You are pivotal to the success, but you must not trouble yourself with future events. Concentrate on your current task.’

  ‘If you are so powerful, why can’t you get these Power Jewels?’

  ‘They must be given freely, and cannot be forcibly removed from someone’s possession. Besides, history has already happened, and history dictates that a woman called Theodora Dieudonné appears and recovers them, only to then disappear from history once more.’

  ‘And that’s me?’

  ‘Indeed. Whether you like it or not, you are Theodora Dieudonné.’

  Eudora sighed. Indeed, she did not like this potentially hazardous situation, but it seemed she had no say in the matter; such was the force of destiny. If she ever wanted to get home, she had no other option than to recover the three pieces of jewellery. ‘Very well,’ she said resignedly, ‘where do I begin?’

  Cassandra shrugged. ‘That is entirely up to you. I shall return you to the Seraglio, but once there you will be on your own. Remember though, Diocletian must not see you. I cannot emphasise strongly enough how important that is!’

  ‘How am I to get the ring from him then? I cannot remove it from him once he is dead, for you have made it quite clear that the ring is connected to his spirit, and when he dies it travels with him.’

  Cassandra sighed. ‘I shall tell you, but ask no more of me. I offer too much assistance as it is! You are a beautiful woman. You must use your feminine wiles to charm the Sultan. You must become his favourite concubine, and when you have his complete trust, he will do anything you ask of him.’

  ‘Eudora gasped in horror, even though she was reminded of what Spiridon had already told her. ‘I must prostitute myself for that ring?’

  ‘Let the Sultan seduce you and give you the amulet as a gift, and then use your charms to persuade him that Dion Taine’s ring must be a willingly offered gift. Think of it not as prostitution. Close your mind to what is going on if you find it that repellent, or find another way, but remember all that is at stake should you fail!’

  * * *

  Along with the Sultan and his Janissary, Dušan and the two eunuchs approached Diocletian at an intersection of the ornately decorated corridor leading to the Sultan’s chambers. He waited for them, maintaining an external aura of calm, even though his heart raced uncontrollably as he saw the face of his adversary. Terror was an unknown quality of Diocletian’s psyche, but he was so close to finally achieving his goal that he wanted nothing to go wrong. There was every possibility that through Dušan, Spiridon had told the Sultan everything, and he knew Selim was looking for the perfect reason to execute Dion Taine.

  ‘Dušan,’ Diocletian called theatrically, displaying a friendly countenance, ‘you are safe. Konstantin and I were worried.’

  Dušan’s smile lit up his face. ‘As you see, I am quite well, Dion!’

  ‘Where have you been?’ Diocletian asked, carrying on with his charade to avoid alerting Selim to anything untoward. The fact that the Sultan had not ordered his Janissary to arrest him on sight seemed to imply that Spiridon had not told him anything. Perhaps Spiridon was not yet awakened after all.

  ‘The Great Visionary kidnapped Sibylla whilst I was talking to her. Abbas and Jabir convinced me we should attempt a rescue. Alas, we were too late.’

  Diocletian struggled to recall who Sibylla was, and when he remembered that she was Dion Taine’s lover, he knew he should display sorrow and distress. However, when in his mind’s eye he saw what Sibylla looked like he found himself staring at the face of Cassandra. If she had found her new body then her strength would be greatly increased, and it worried him that this should happen at this juncture in events. He could tell there was something he was unable to recall, though he was not certain whether it was from Dion’s mind or his own.

  What was it?

  His mind was filled with flashes of memories of a lifetime long ago in a strange unknown place. Spiridon was there, as was Constantine… and Cassandra! Were these strange surroundings his place of origin? Where was it? What was its significance? Did his destiny lie elsewhere? Had events prior to their betrayal of him twelve centuries ago initiated his act of vengeance against Spiridon and Constantine?

  They were events he still could not recall.

  ‘Are you all right, Dion?’

  He realised Dušan was speaking to him. What had they been talking about? Ah yes… the girl Sibylla was dead. He managed to force tears into his eyes, feigning desolation at the news. ‘It is hard to take in. Sibylla is dead?’

  Selim patted Dion Taine’s shoulder comfortingly. ‘I am sorry, Dion. Sibylla was a lovely girl. It is a tragedy that we shall not hear her wonderful voice again.’

  Diocletian unthinkingly nodded. ‘Yes, it is a terrible tragedy.’

  ‘You must be overwrought,’ Selim added. ‘You should rest, be alone with your grief. I shall instruct my Janissary that you are not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day.’ He clapped his hands and signalled two of his guards to go with Dion who, realising he was being dismissed, departed. The two guards followed a few steps behind. When they had gone, Selim dismissed the rest of his loyal guards and led Dušan and the two eunuchs into his private chambers.

  ‘All right, Dušan, I did as you asked, and Dion has proved himself to be under some kind of influence. Now will you kindly explain fully to me exactly what is going on?’

  ‘Excellency, you shall not easily believe what I am about to tell you, but I swear it to be the truth.’

  ‘Where the Great Visionary is concerned, Dušan, anything is possible. Please, continue.’

  ‘I must begin by informing you that I am known as Spiridon. Dušan’s spirit lives on quite safe, as does that of Dion Taine. Konstantin is almost certainly dead, killed by the hand of Diocletian, he who currently inhabits the body of Dion Taine. My brother and I were sent to return Diocletian to our own land, far from this place.’

  ‘And where precisely do you come from?’

  ‘Atlantis.’

  The Sultan laughed. ‘Everyone has heard of the fabled lost continent of Atlantis. It is but a myth, a legend from ages past. If it really existed, it would have been destroyed centuries ago.’

  Spiridon nodded. ‘Indeed it was, Excellency. We are spirits who are able to be reborn into new bodies. We must continue to do so until we capture him and return him to Atlantis, where he shall be imprisoned for his heinous crimes. All shall then be as it once was.’

  ‘Including Dion, Dušan and Konstantin?’

  Spiridon lowered his eyes solemnly. ‘Konstantin cannot be returned to life if he has been killed, but Dion and Dušan shall be restored unharmed.’

  ‘I shall help in any way possible, if it should restore my beloved friend Dušan. I do not know if I believe your story, but perhaps it is fantastic enough to be true. I shall for the moment maintain an open mind. We must apprehend Dion at once!’

  Spiridon shook his head. ‘Not yet. Cassandra’s prophecy has yet to be fulfilled. Prophecies from the future cannot be altered, for in that respect they are history to the one who foretells them.’

  ‘And what does the Great Visionary foretell?’

  ‘Cassandra foretells the coming of a woman. Dušan has seen her in his dreams, and I have memories of this woman, for she is Theodora, Queen of Atlantis, without whom Diocletian cannot be defeated.’

  ‘One woman alone has the power to defeat this demon?’ gasped Selim incredulously. When Spiridon nodded, he added, ‘Then we must do e
verything we can to ensure her safety.’

  ‘Thank you, Excellency, for believing me.’

  ‘I am well known for my intolerance of fools, and only a fool would dare fabricate such an extraordinary story. Where do we look for this woman, Theodora?’

  ‘We do not look for her. She will come to us when the time is right.’

  * * *

  Eudora waited until the engulfing dizziness dissipated, and when she opened her eyes, Cassandra had departed once more. Having come from the darkness of the Inner Sanctum, she now found herself wreathed in brilliant sunlight shining through the fretwork to her left, and her pupils constricted as they adjusted to the sudden brightness.

  She found herself in an exquisitely decorated room. Beautiful Persian rugs that would one day become priceless antiques littered the expansive floor, whilst vibrant paintings and brilliantly textured tapestries adorned each wall. A huge bed dominated the centre of the room, festooned with garishly coloured bolsters and cushions and pillows of various sizes and shapes. There was silk everywhere, and a gauzy curtain draped from the ceiling to enclose the bed completely.

  A faint indefinably feminine touch subdued the otherwise overt opulent masculinity, and Eudora instinctively knew this to be Spiridon’s bedchamber.

  She did not hear the soft footsteps as they approached from the outer room, but turned as she heard the rustling beads in the doorway, to find herself face to face once more with Spiridon. Only here he was alive, flesh and blood, no mere trapped spirit. He was a real man and she shivered, for his presence was even more intoxicating in the flesh.

  ‘Who are you?’ he demanded in his resonant voice.

  ‘I am Eu… Theodora.’

  ‘Indeed you are,’ he said with a gentle smile. ‘How do you come to be here? I detect Cassandra’s hand in this.’

  Eudora nodded. ‘You are correct. Cassandra has told me many things, and explained what I am to do. How much do you know, Spiridon?’

  ‘You recognise my true identity?’

  ‘Oh course. I’ve met you before in–’

  Spiridon cut her off with a raised hand. ‘It is best you do not tell me. It does not behove a man to know too much of his future.’

  ‘Quite. I have this task to perform, and when it is done I shall leave this place, but we will meet again.’

  A loud knock on the door interrupted them. ‘Dušan, I wish to speak with you.’

  Eudora recognised the voice instantly. It belonged to Dino Clayton. ‘Diocletian!’ she exclaimed, clamping a hand over her mouth. A look of panic crossed her face. ‘He must not see me.’

  Spiridon pointed to the adjoining room. ‘Wait in my bathing chamber. I shall be rid of him as quickly as possible.’

  Eudora ducked back around the corner of the doorway, holding her breath as she listened to the exchange between the two men in the living quarters.

  ‘What do you want, Dion?’

  ‘I wanted to make certain you are all right. It cannot have been pleasant, witnessing Sibylla’s death at the hands of the Great Visionary! You seem to be suffering no trauma.’

  ‘No more than you, it would appear.’

  ‘I have cried my tears, Dušan, but tears will not bring Sibylla back to me.’ Diocletian stepped closer until the tip of his nose was practically touching Spiridon’s. His eyes flashed dangerously. ‘You know who I am, do you not?’ he hissed.

  Taking a couple of backward steps, Spiridon laughed. ‘Of course I do. You are Dion Taine, the finest artist in the world!’

  Diocletian laughed too, but it was obvious the near-flippant response did not amuse him. ‘Of course I am. But is that all you see?’

  Spiridon wrapped an arm around Diocletian’s shoulders. ‘Dion, in spite of what you might think of my brother and me, I would still like to think you a friend.’ He frowned. ‘Do you know where Kon is? I have not seen him since my return.’

  Diocletian sent Spiridon a withering look, then shook his head. ‘I have not seen him since shortly before your return. I do have a surprise for you though, Dušan, to show that I do regard you as a friend.’

  ‘A surprise, for me?’ Spiridon gasped, clapping his hands in false joy. ‘Oh good, I love surprises.’

  Diocletian smiled. ‘It is outside. Perhaps you would help me bring it in?’ As Spiridon followed him through the door, Diocletian pondered the increasing possibility that Spiridon had not awakened after all. There was certainly no sign of Spiridon’s personality emerging in the young man who helped manhandle the large framed painting into the room, and equally no sign of the pendant that should be around his neck. If this were the case, he would have to wait patiently once again.

  Once the painting was propped against the wall next to the door, Spiridon stood back to drink in its magnificence. ‘It is by far your finest work, Dion,’ he said as he looked at the extraordinarily lifelike images of Constantine, Diocletian and him. It was uncanny how the eyes of all three figures seemed to follow him as he moved to view the painting from different angles. The lingering smell of the drying paint and the rosewood frame was intoxicating.

  Diocletian smiled. ‘I am glad that you like it, Dušan. I painted it for you and your brother as a truce.’ He held out his hand. ‘Friends?’

  Spiridon smiled, nodded and yawned, but he did not extend his own hand. He knew he had Diocletian confused, and if they shook hands, Diocletian would surely be able to tell his spirit had awakened. Spiridon knew his personal safety was assured for a while longer, though he was unafraid of whatever Diocletian had in store for him.

  He yawned again and indicated the door. ‘I thank you for the painting, and I am glad we are friends at last, but I am exhausted. I have not slept properly for several days.’

  Taking the hint, Diocletian left, and Spiridon barely resisted the temptation to slam the door after him. After a few moments, Eudora came out from the bathroom and wandered over to inspect the painting.

  ‘Dion Taine’s Trinity,’ she said with resigned sigh. ‘It depicts the Emperors Diocletian and Constantine, and you, Spiridon.’

  ‘You are familiar with this painting?’ gasped Spiridon.

  Eudora nodded, unsure how much she should tell him. ‘Oh yes, I’m afraid so.’

  Spiridon wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her close. ‘Why are you so afraid?’ he whispered softly. ‘It is just a painting.’

  Eudora wiped away her tears irritably. ‘If only it were just a painting! But I know the painting’s secret.’

  ‘Secret?’ Spiridon turned Eudora to face him, and he became concerned when he saw her tears. ‘Why are you so sad, Theodora?’

  Eudora wiped her eyes once more and sniffed loudly. ‘The painting is a gateway, if you like,’ she whispered. ‘It is my way home, and I cannot return home until I find the lost key which opens the portrait of shade.’

  ‘Portrait of shade?’

  Eudora nodded. ‘I am a lost soul. My spirit is trapped within the painting, just as my body is trapped outside. They must be joined once more if I am to return home.’

  ‘To Atlantis?’

  ‘Perhaps, if I am truly your Queen, then that is where I shall one day return to, but I also have a life back in my own century.’

  Spiridon nodded his understanding. ‘You do not belong in this time; that much is certain.’ He took her face in his hands and kissed away her tears, and then pressed his lips firmly to hers.

  Eudora was lost in the beauty of the moment. The passion of his kiss made her heart stop still for a moment and then beat wildly.

  ‘You truly are as beautiful as I remember, Theodora,’ Spiridon sighed as he broke the kiss. ‘Share tonight with me. I cannot bear the thought of losing you once more.’

  ‘Please, Spiridon, it wouldn’t be right,’ implored Eudora, thinking of Nathan with her heart even as her body and soul capitulated to the desire she had felt for this man ever since she first set eyes on the painting.

  ‘One night of passion, my Queen, before tomorrow we finish the task
you have been set; one night of passion to carry me through to the next life, when we might perhaps be reunited.’

  He kissed her again, and Eudora melted into his arms, overwhelmed by the incomparable scent of him. She could not stand the shame of betraying Nathan, but at the same time, she could not bear the thought of loving and losing Spiridon.

  She had been irrevocably lost to him the moment she saw the painting for the first time. Too late, she looked into his eyes, drowning in their luminous blue depths, and because she was already lost to him, she surrendered to her desire.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Eudora awakened, the sun was high in the sky, the air already hot and sticky, and as she lay amongst the pillows, shifting her position to one of more comfort, she smiled. She felt wonderful. She felt loved and wanted, and not at all out of place in this setting. She felt she belonged, even though she knew she did not.

  Even as feelings of contentment washed over her, Eudora’s thoughts shifted for a moment back to her sister and cousin, whose lives had been snatched away because of a man alive in this time, and anger bubbled up within her alongside the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. She drew some small comfort from the thought that their spirits might be reborn again in some future time, but even that thought left unhappiness that she would not see them again when she returned.

  As she wondered whether perhaps there might be some way of attaining retribution whilst in Constantinople, Spiridon came into the bedchamber, smiling.

  ‘Good morning, Theodora. I trust you slept well?’

  Eudora sat up, clutching one of the silk sheets to maintain her modesty. She dried her eyes, hoping he had not witnessed her tears. ‘I did, thank you.’

  Spiridon smiled reassuringly as he approached, and then sat upon the bed. ‘We must begin your task today,’ he said. ‘I know what it is that you seek, and that is why I shall assist. Diocletian does not yet recall the importance of the jewels, so it may be possible to persuade him to part with it.’

  Eudora felt a shudder of revulsion at the mention of that name. ‘I’m assuming that as in the painting, he has the ring?’