Ten for Dying (John the Lord Chamberlain Book 10)

by Mary Reed

  Wild-eyed, Felix raced down a passageway, rounded a corner, and plunged across a cavernous space half filled by piles of rubble, its ceiling vanished into darkness overhead. The shadows on the walls, writhing in the light from Felix’s swinging lantern, were huge bat-like creatures with squirming snake hair.

  He flung himself down a set of mossy stairs. The drip of water plopping into the black mirror of a cistern below turned suddenly into the sound of regular breathing. He approached the cistern cautiously.

  The huge head of a magnificent cat had emerged from the stygian depths and beckoned him with an immense paw, its breathing magnified by the walls of the vast chamber. Tattered strips of cloth, the wrappings of a mummy, hung from the gesturing paw.

  “Come, Felix, I have been waiting for you for so long.” The cat thing spoke in a woman’s voice.

  Felix pivoted and ran back up the stairway, slipping on the moss, while the cat roared its disappointment.

  Demons! Dedi had loosed them on the city, he thought. When he emerged would he find a slaughter in progress in street, alley, and forum? Would misbegotten shapes be feasting on flesh while monstrous beings soared in flocks above the Great Church and the Hippodrome?

  He paused, standing among rubble, panting, to listen for sounds of pursuit.

  Nothing but his own labored breathing.

  Had Antonina poisoned him after all? Had he died and gone to the underworld? He trudging wearily through a series of linked rooms containing only dust.

  The flame in the lantern began to gutter, the oil nearly gone. When the lantern went out, he would be lost in impenetrable darkness with no means of escape. “And not a chance to climb the seven-runged ladder to heaven,” he murmured, his Mithran beliefs crowding out everything that Anastasia had tried to teach him.

  And there, as if conjured up by the thought, stood a ladder outlined by a rainbow, reaching toward the ceiling.

  He began to climb. Or was he dreaming? Or dead? The more he climbed, the longer the ladder seemed to become. Halfway up, holding on grimly with one hand, he batted away a flying monster blessed with large teeth and a small body that whirred up from the darkness below.

  Finally he reached a trapdoor.

  Pushing it open, he looked cautiously out.

  He had arrived in a torch-lit courtyard over which loomed the walls of the Hippodrome, but as far as he could see there were only the usual beggars and whores on the street.

  Then again, they could be demons in disguise, he thought, levering himself into the open air.

  The star-pocked night sky dazzled him after the inky depths. It drove ideas of demons from his mind. Perhaps they had been partly the result of Antonina’s potion or the knock he’d taken on his head? As for his pursuers, he must have lost them underground.

  He began to walk toward Anatolius’ house.

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Felix waited impatiently beside the desk in Anatolius’ office. Why was Anatolius being so mysterious? Had he made a discovery about the theft of the shroud? Felix hoped so. He had had to slip past several patrols to reach Anatolius’ house. How much longer would be able to elude the grasp of the authorities, not to mention the Blues?

  The damned skull in the mosaic desk top kept grinning at him. At least the icon in Maria’s hideaway hadn’t grinned. He pushed an unpleasant-looking legal paper over the horrid visage.

  As he looked up an ill-clad man shuffled in, leaning on a staff. His sandals slapped the floor as he approached. “Captain Felix, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Mithra! John!”

  “Not so loud, Felix. You’ll alert the servants. I’ve kept on my travel disguise so they don’t recognize me. They think I’m from a country monastery, come to consult Anatolius about a property dispute.”

  “You’re risking your neck, John. What do you think will happen if Justinian’s spies catch you?”

  “I’m more worried about what Cornelia will say when I get back.”

  “If you get back.”

  “I thought it too dangerous to send a letter and I couldn’t trust a messenger.”

  “It’s to do with the shroud?”

  John sat on one side of the desk and Felix on the other. “Yes. I understand from Anatolius you have made progress in your investigation, but time is running out.”

  “I have formed suspicions. Too many. I sense I’m on the verge of a solution though. Don’t tell me you’ve deduced from our visit to the church what I haven’t been able to find out after running around the city for a week?”

  “Not at all. I was presented with new information you couldn’t have discovered.”

  “Aboard a ship?”

  “Let me explain quickly. As far as I can tell I managed to get into the city without being recognized, but nothing is ever certain here. This is what happened. Almost as soon as the Leviathan sailed, a well-dressed traveler drew my attention because of his secretive behavior and apparent special relationship with the captain. At one point Peter was pushed overboard—he was fished out safely—and I suspected this traveler was the culprit, because it happened not long after Peter had been in the captain’s cabin where the stranger was lodging.”

  “There was something in the cabin the rascal didn’t want anyone to see?”

  “That’s right. Taking advantage of the absence of most of the crew ashore at the next port, I searched the cabin and found a soft package carrying the imperial seal. Although my inspection of the package was interrupted, I assume it was what the traveler feared Peter might have noticed, for he, the traveler, sought to silence me with a garrotte.”

  Felix stared at John in amazement. He noticed for the first time the necklace of purpled flesh around John’s neck, a fainter copy of the deadly necklace worn by the dead courier in Felix’s courtyard. “Was it a matter of the traveler hiding something or had Justinian ordered him to make sure you never made it into exile?”

  “The former, I believe. He didn’t take into account that I was a military man once. I managed to throw him off and get a glimpse of his face. However, I couldn’t prevent him fleeing the ship with the package.”

  “Mithra!” Felix cursed.

  “The ship’s captain, who had not been paid in advance for his favored passenger’s voyage, was only too happy to identify him, although at no little expense to me. His name is Karpos, and he’s an aide to Belisarius. He did not reveal his business to the captain and the captain did not enquire, but given he was traveling on a boat wallowing from port to port around the coastline, it seems obvious he left the city in haste, taking the first available ship. You recall we sailed the morning after the relic was stolen and a piece of cloth would make for a small, soft package. An aide to Belisarius would doubtless possess an imperial seal in order to facilitate transportation of official documents. No doubt he thought the captain’s cabin was a safer place to leave it than carrying it around on his person.”

  “Belisarius is involved in this business?”

  “It points that way. I overheard crew members speak of the delights to be experienced when the ship arrives in Italy and calls at Crotone. Belisarius is currently campaigning in that area.”

  Felix nodded thoughtfully. If Belisarius was involved then doubtless Antonina was involved, as he had suspected, and it seems likely her servant Tychon had been assisting her.

  “Witnesses to the theft at the church reported seeing demons, you’ll recall,” John went on, “and according to Hypatia visions could be created by inhaling a mixture of incense and mandrake. She tells me the latter is also known as Circe’s plant.”

  “She’s not the only person we know who is well versed in herbal lore,” Felix observed with a frown.

  “Indeed. The instant I learned the identity of our mysterious traveler, I recalled common talk about Antonina’s entanglement with Karpos, the young man who had accompanied
her back from Italy. She’s as notorious for her infidelities as for her potions.”

  “It’s no secret she came to Constantinople to convince Justinian to give Belisarius more financial support but was thwarted by Theodora’s death. Could it be…?”

  “A relic as precious as the Virgin’s shroud would be worth a large sum, particularly if held for ransom, or perhaps it would attract loyalty from certain people. Some might even imagine it does possess magickal powers which would aid Belisarius.”

  “It’s certainly possible,” Felix replied.

  “Antonina is a ruthless woman, but I cannot think how she would have the gall to steal one of the city’s holies relics. Nor do I think Karpos would have taken part in the robbery himself. She’s not likely to admit anything, but the weight of circumstantial evidence may be enough to bring about some sort of resolution.”

  “Well…”

  John stood. “I must take ship and catch up with the Leviathan now.” He pulled a folded sheet of parchment from his robes and handed it to Felix. “I have written this information down and added to matters to which you can attest it makes a strong case against Belisarius for someone who is looking to make a case against him.”

  “And I know exactly who that is.”

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  “So, my great bear, you will have your command.” Anastasia gave Felix a kiss he did not return with his customary ardor.

  He had asked her to walk in the garden, away from the prying eyes and ears of the servants. They stopped in front of a huge rose bush. The roses, nodding as bees came and went, and the buds fallen to the path, enveloped them in sweet perfume. Sunlight slanting through the flowers lent a blush to Anastasia’s features. She glowed with the impossible beauty of things forbidden.

  “Yes, I will be leading troops in Italy when Germanus takes over the campaign, which is sure to happen. He grinned like a wolf when he read John’s letter. I could practically see blood dripping from his jaws.”

  Anastasia made a face. “What an image!” She regarded him through narrowed eyes. “What is troubling you, Felix? Shouldn’t we be celebrating?”

  Felix found himself gazing over her shoulder into the roses and forced himself to look into her perfect, aristocratic face. “We can’t continue, Anastasia. It won’t work.”

  She looked at him as if she hadn’t heard correctly. What was going on behind the mask she seemed to draw suddenly over her emotions? Felix couldn’t guess. Then she laughed lightly, as a lady might laugh at an inept and slightly inappropriate joke from the lips of a callow young courtier. “What can you possibly mean by ‘it won’t work’? The events of the past days have upset your humors. I can understand that. We can soon put that right.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. He did not react. It took all his willpower.

  “I am only a soldier, Anastasia, and you are the sister of an empress.”

  “Only a soldier? A general, you mean! What more fitting partner for a general than a member of the imperial family?”

  “As a general under the command of Germanus I will occupy a lesser position than I do now as excubitor captain. For myself, I do not care. I would return to battle as a common foot soldier if necessary.”

  “And how long would a man of your ability remain a foot soldier or a common general?”

  “You are ambitious, Anastasia. I am not for the kind of rank you envisage. You see me in charge of the Army of the East when Germanus succeeds Justinian and perhaps later my succeeding Germanus. You see yourself as empress, like your sister.”

  “Have I given you that impression? You’re being unfair.”

  “I’m a simple man. I’ve always felt out of place at the palace. That is your world.”

  “You know I spend as little time at the palace as possible. I will travel to Italy with you.”

  “And we will be like Belisarius and Antonina. I don’t want that.”

  “You think she rules him. Is that what you mean?” Her face was redder than could be accounted for by the reflection of the roses.

  “Since you insist of putting it into words, yes.”

  Felix saw her stiffen.

  “You think I’ve been using you?” she said. “You think I’m nothing but a whore?”

  “I didn’t say that. I don’t think it. I don’t regret our time together.”

  “A fine way you have of showing it!”

  “Besides, you are much younger than me.”

  “Not that much younger.”

  “Enough so that I will be an old man before you are ready to settle for an old man.”

  Her eyes glistened. “People who are in love don’t fear the future, Felix.”

  “Are you in love with me?”

  “You doubt it? What have I done to make you doubt it? Why do you think I agreed to share your bed?”

  Felix’s hand went to his beard. “I wish I knew, Anastasia. I think you like exciting tales but I am not a very exciting man, however much you want to make me one.”

  Anastasia blinked until she had squeezed out a few teardrops, which ran down her flaming red cheeks. “You have thought out your whole case against me, haven’t you? Now that you have what you want, I have no use to use. Why didn’t you send your lawyer friend over to prosecute me?”

  “I…I’m sorry…”

  Her hand tightened on his arm and she leaned toward him. “You’re out of sorts. We’ll talk again tomorrow. You can’t make a decision like this so quickly. You took me by surprise.”

  “No, Anastasia, I have thought about—”

  She put her lips against his cheek. “Come with me to our bed, my big naughty bear.”

  He pried her hand off his arm and stepped away.

  It made him ache to look at her. To never touch her again…He felt a breathless emptiness rise up inside him, as if he were about to step off a precipice.

  “No,” he said. “It is over.”

  Her eyes flashed. Before he could react she raked his face with her fingernails. He could feel the hot blood blossoming and running down his cheek as she spun around and walked away.

  Epilogue

  A rutted path led from John’s villa to a wide field overlooking the Aegean. The waters were so bright and blue they might have been glazed, the color of a ceramic serving bowl at a palace banquet. Grazing sheep made John think of clouds drifting above the towers and domes of Constantinople.

  Sheep! John hadn’t realized that he owned so many sheep.

  There was a small ruined temple in the field. The pillars and part of the roof remained but any representation of the deity it had sheltered—perhaps Demeter, who had been popular in the region—was missing.

  John and Anatolius sat on a bench inside in the shade, near where the statue of the deity had once stood.

  “You’re a true soldier of Mithra, Anatolius, visiting a man in imperial disfavor.”

  His companion waved a hand. “I had business in Athens, an excellent excuse to visit in person. And if I decide to take a short tour while in Greece, well, why not? I don’t think Justinian is hiding behind any of those bushes, and as for his spies, you haven’t seen any strangers on the estate, have you?”

  “No.”

  “If any do suddenly appear, we’ll see them coming across the field and deal with them. We could stampede the sheep and crush them to death…though I see you still carry a blade. And wisely, in my opinion. So we don’t need to worry about spies. I hope you and your family are prospering in your new lives?”

  “It’s a little too early to tell.”

  “It’s very different from the city, isn’t it?” Anatolius sounded almost wistful. “I would write a poem about your bucolic retreat but Felix, in sending his good wishes, made it plain I am not to descend to poetry as he put it. Alas, the muse’s whisperings fall upon deaf military ears. So instead, a descrip
tion of how events have unfolded.”

  Anatolius began with an account of everything that had befallen Felix with occasional refreshment from a jug of wine at their feet as the heat increased with the advancing day.

  John stared out over the dazzling sunlit water as he listened.

  “Felix and I have deduced,” Anatolius said, “pooling what we had learned with what Anastasia gleaned from her friendship with Antonina, that Porphyrius the charioteer had long been involved in smuggling. Felix confessed he had been forced into assisting Porphyrius due to his debts.”

  “Debts are more deadly than a Persian sword, especially for a captain of excubitors,” John observed.

  “Indeed. But Porphyrius was clever, he kept his involvement in relic smuggling well concealed. Remember, Felix’s contact was the Jingler. Felix didn’t realize he was actually working for the charioteer. The murdered courier, Martinus, had become entangled for the same reasons as Felix. He was one of those foolish young fellows who get into debt by gambling on the racing. When I spoke to his widow, she told me in passing about their missing servant. Given his master’s participation and admittedly drawing my bow at a venture, I suspect this unfortunate fellow was also involved in the matter and was the man Felix saw hanged in the Hippodrome.”

  “And his execution was either to punish him for some infraction or more likely to demonstrate to Felix that Porphyrius would not hesitate to carry out his threats if the piece of shroud was not returned?”

  Anatolius nodded and took another sip of wine. “Of course, there is nothing to connect Porphyrius directly with the missing relic except Felix’s account of their uncivilized meeting in the Hippodrome.”

  He paused. “By the way, I notice you have not yet restocked that foul Egyptian wine you favor. I’m happy to say.”

  “A consignment is on the way.”

  “Then I’ll bring my own next time I visit. Let me see. I believe Martinus’ servant must have been one of the thieves who fled the Church of the Holy Apostles with the shroud. He would have taken it directly to his master for delivery to Felix. The other thief was, it seems, Antonina’s servant Tychon. We know that because Dedi, who was trying to reanimate Theodora from her sarcophagus at the time of the theft, followed one of these so-called demons back to Antonina’s house. He told Felix all about his forays into magick.”