by Mary Reed
The ragged man looked around the curious congregation which was keeping a distance. “Wisdom from a stripling.” He laughed.
The captain of the fishing boat leapt ashore. “You and that dirty little urchin are working together, aren’t you?” He grabbed the speaker’s shoulder, but the wretch shook it off with a convulsive movement and lurched away. He clambered up a pile of marble blocks, destined perhaps for an imperial residence or a church. Once atop he stood with his arms spread out, face turned to the glowering sky. Many of the onlookers began to drift back to their labors. A fellow in filthy clothes preaching incoherently from on high was too common a sight to maintain their interest.
A beggar who had observed the scene from a doorway at the base of the sea wall which towered above the docks stepped out and craned his neck to see the man standing above.
“What’s that about demons?” he asked. “Any ‘round here? Where’d you see them?”
The man he addressed peered down. “If you cannot see them, you are fortunate. They swarm everywhere. There are several down there on the dock disguised as men…but if you have vision you can see through their fleshly disguise.”
The beggar shivered in exaggerated fashion. “Which ones do you mean?”
The man pointed to the captain, now busy kicking the emaciated boy away from the baskets, helping him along with a invitation to bring his sister back and he would give her something for nothing all right, and then put his finger to his lips to enjoin silence.
“What, him?”
“See his dark face behind that sly smile? Teeth sharp as a tonsor’s razor? Oh yes, my friend, he’ll be waiting to take you for your final journey when the time comes! And any wind he sails on takes his passengers straight to the devil’s kingdom! Because there is only one wind in all the world and that’s its destination. Just take a look at him. You can see right away he’s one who sails the hellish wind.”
“I’ve heard he’s had bad fortune with his crews. It explains a lot. If he’s a demon….”
“He is, and the king who rules them here is Justinian. Haven’t you heard he prowls the palace at night without his face? Of course! He doesn’t want anyone to see his real face for fear the sight will kill them! But I intend to confront and banish him! Then will evil be gone from the city!”
“Wouldn’t mind that.” The beggar winked at the captain who stood listening, having banished the boy.
“I only wish I was in league with the emperor,” remarked the captain. “Think how rich I would be!”
“Not much charity to be had lately,” said the beggar. “Now there’s evil for you. And it’s dangerous being out when them Blues and Greens are having their bit of fun. But how do you expect to get in the palace? You can’t just stroll in and ask to talk to the emperor, can you?”
The ragged man stared down and smiled. “Those at the palace know their own when they see them. I’ll have no trouble coming and going as I please. Besides, I have in my possession a magickal charm.” He shook the broken stick he carried. “It will gain me entry to the imperial audience hall quicker than you can steal a loaf!”
Chapter Eight
January 12, 532
The walkway echoed to the thud of Felix’s boots. When the heat haze of summer formed shimmering visions over the sea visible between carefully clipped topiary depicting fabulous beasts, the high, airy way would offer a shady retreat behind its curtain of honeysuckle. Now at the deadest time of year, where the dense mat of vines kept out sunlight, traces of frost lingered.
The broad shouldered young excubitor frowned and tugged at his beard as he strode along. Why had Captain Gallio been so mysterious about this assignment? Why had he left the explanation to Narses? Felix would have preferred not to be anywhere within hailing distance of the emperor’s chamberlain and treasurer.
That perfumed fool. His scowl deepened. A military man being ordered about by a eunuch! If he were captain he’d never—
A woman screamed.
Felix drew his sword and broke into a run, alert for ambush. Even deep in the palace grounds to drop his guard for a heartbeat could be fatal.
He reached the end of the colonnade and burst out into a walled terrace. An attractive, fair-haired woman sat on a semi-circular marble bench overlooking the sea. Her robes were dark green, decorated simply with pale yellow embroidery at the hem and neckline. A servant to one of the court ladies, who had borrowed some of her mistress’ plainer clothing and would get a sound thrashing for it when she ventured back to her work, Felix thought.
She looked up as he approached. Loose curls framed her features. The red lips and rosy cheeks showed she had been at her mistress’ makeup too. “Oh, what a big strong fellow. You frightened that ruffian so much he ran away….”
Felix glanced around. He saw nobody on the brick pathway that extended several yards along the terrace in each direction. Edged with naked flower beds there was no cover for anything bigger than a rabbit.
The woman laughed. “Yes, you are right, there was nobody here but myself. Life at the palace can be so boring. Sometimes I could just scream.”
“A habit that might liven things up more than one might wish.” Felix put his sword back in his belt.
“You belong to the palace guard, don’t you? Such fine young men.” She sounded as if she were out of breath from some exertion, even though she was simply sitting still. “Do you have a wife?”
The abrupt change of subject startled Felix. He shook his head. “Don’t stay out in the grounds after dark,” he advised. “It isn’t wise, especially with all the unrest in the city.”
“You don’t think troublemakers can get into the palace? Surely that’s your job? To keep them out?”
“No one can get into the imperial chambers. The gardens are another matter. Armies of bureaucrats, clerks, merchants, and petty officials have business on the palace grounds every day. We keep track of them as best we can. Then too, the whole complex is surrounded by buildings of all sorts, and who knows what passages run underneath our feet or whether someone can get over a wall somewhere?”
“So you really might have saved my life by showing up when you did! Would you care to escort me around the sights of the city? Better yet, why don’t we meet later. After dark. The Hall of the Nineteen Couches is deserted between banquets.” She giggled at Felix’s dumbfounded expression.
“I am—that is—won’t your mistress object to your absence?”
She waved a hand. “Not at all. I have a great deal of freedom.”
“I would be pleased to show you around the city, but the chamberlain Narses is waiting to see me.”
“Do you know Narses? They say he is fabulously wealthy. Of course, he is not the sort of man I prefer.” Her gaze caressed Felix from head to toe. Her eyes, Felix saw, were as blue as a summer sky over the sea.
“Oh, we are old comrades,” Felix heard himself say. He couldn’t look away from those brilliant blue eyes and while he stared into them he couldn’t control his words. “Narses relies on me for advice and often consults me on certain delicate matters.”
He finally managed to turn away. Or had she lowered her gaze and released him?
He stammered out a farewell and set off down the path, accompanied by an uncomfortable feeling she was laughing at him behind his back. Why had he been so foolish as to claim friendship with a man he despised? He hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, he told himself. It was what she’d wanted to hear.
Felix had nearly escaped when she called out. “You’re going the wrong way! Narses is at his office now. Let’s walk there together!”
She was beside him before he could protest. Felix glanced at his companion from time to time. She was as familiar with their geography as he, and he wondered if her knowledge had come from assignations in less frequented areas of the gardens. She was not so much beautiful as striking, with pale hair and plump hands. Nor was she as young as he had first supposed and the angle of her jaw su
ggested stubbornness and a strong will. He wondered which mistress she served and if her employer was a guest of the imperial couple.
Whoever she was, she seemed in high humor. Now and then a chuckle escaped her ruby painted lips and at one point she hummed to herself.
Felix couldn’t hide his surprise. He recognized a popular though obscene song sung by military men to the glory of Theodora and her prowess in the arena of Venus.
By then they had reached a long, blocky administrative building. The woman led Felix down a corridor decorated with frescoes depicting country life and rapped on a polished paneled door decorated with ivory scrollwork. A pale silentiary answered the summons.
Felix felt it was time to assert his authority. “I am Felix, sent by Captain Gallio of the excubitors for an audience with Narses.” As he spoke he was acutely conscious of the perfume of the woman beside him.
“You are expected.” replied the guardian of the door. “As for your companion….”
“I am not expected,” she said. “And being a female I have no doubt I would be unwelcome. Don’t forget our little matter, Felix.” She caught him again in her gaze, released him, and went back down the corridor. He realized she had not actually touched him once yet he felt as if she had her hands all over his body.
The room into which a thoroughly flustered Felix was ushered boasted a large desk, an ebony-armed chair, and a large iron-bound box. The only nod to decoration was a row of silver bowls of hyacinths against one wall. The bell-shaped flowers exuded a sweet, overpowering scent that filled the austere room.
The dwarfish, bald chamberlain dismissed the silentiary. He noticed Felix looking at the flowers. “Homer stated in a passage describing Juno’s treachery that her bed was formed of crocus, lotus, and hyacinth. I keep these blossoms by me as a reminder that women cannot be trusted—and few men, for that matter.”
Felix blinked in surprise but remained silent.
“I recognized that strumpet’s voice,” Narses continued. “I strongly advise you not to engage in the little matter mentioned, whatever it is, although I can certainly guess its nature. Avoid that woman or should I say viper in women’s clothing. She is a demon’s snare. A friend of the empress. A close friend. You grasp my meaning? Besides which, I know how men are. I will not have her interfering in what you will be instructed to carry out.”
“I don’t know the woman, excellency. I ran into her in the gardens.”
The other’s unlined face broke into a smile that closely resembled a leer. “You really don’t know who she is?”
“No, excellency.”
“That’s Antonina. Unchaste to say the least and a practitioner of magick of the worst sort. However, as I said, a confidante of our empress.” Narses giggled. “But now to business.”
Chapter Nine
John ignored the first knock at the chapel door. At the second his lips tightened into a thin line and he set down the crust of bread he had been eating. “Yes?”
“It’s Haik.”
“Come in.”
A shaft of light from the doorway fell across the gloom in the semi-circular chamber. The candles on the polished wood altar guttered, their reflections trembling on the silver cross sitting between them. Before it was half opened, the edge of the door hit John’s stool. Haik squeezed into the cell-sized enclosure.
“Please close the door.” John shifted his stool to make room. A plain, wooden desk sat jammed up against the altar. Documents were shoved aside to make room for John’s breakfast.
“The servants told me I’d find you here. I didn’t realize you’d become a man of faith.”
“I haven’t. It’s the only place in the house I can be alone. The servants won’t disturb a man at his devotions. Otherwise it’s master this and master that. It’s impossible to gather one’s thoughts.”
“You always liked having the night watch on your own, didn’t you?” Haik looked around the chapel. A gilt cross curved across the domed ceiling. On the walls, painted saints suffered horrible martyrdoms. “I’d have a hard time thinking in here, myself. It’s worse than a battlefield.”
“I’m not having much luck myself this morning.”
“Pondering some palace intrigue?”
John ignored Haik’s grin. “I hope that’s not what it turns out to be.” He stood, retrieved his bread, stuffed the remains into his mouth, and gestured toward the door. He left the chapel and led his visitor down a short corridor into the atrium where a life-sized Aphrodite served as a graceful fountain.
Haik glanced back in the direction of the chapel. “Old gods and new no further from each other than you could spit an olive pit. I wonder who the original owner of this house favored?”
“I am sure he worshipped the emperor’s god. In public. Have a seat. There’s more room here and you won’t sink up to your neck in cushions.”
Haik sat down with a sigh on one of the benches projecting from the marble walls while John took another. “Considering the time I’ve spent on horseback lately, I wouldn’t refuse a cushion or two. You should allow yourself a little luxury. You’ve earned it. You weren’t born to it.”
“Which is why I can’t get used to being waited on.”
“The servants might not vex you so much if you gave them enough to do. I found the kitchen staff throwing knucklebones. But then how long does it take to set out a loaf of bread for the master’s breakfast?”
“I often have boiled eggs.”
“Give them some employment. A few fancy dishes will keep them busy all day.”
“I have no taste for fancy dishes. I’m happy with grilled fish from a street vendor.”
“Have your cook prepare grilled fish then.”
“I’d have to sit and eat off a silver plate. I’d prefer to have it from a skewer while walking the streets.”
Haik laughed. “I suppose the emperor wouldn’t allow you to pitch a tent in the gardens?”
“It would reflect badly on Justinian if his chamberlains did not appear to be well compensated.”
Haik ran a hand absently through his long, black hair. “So you’re a chamberlain. From what little I know, that’s an office with a lot of power.”
John shook his head. “The office has no power of its own. All power flows down from the emperor, like the water from Aphrodite’s shell.”
The white marble statue held an oversized clam shell in one upraised hand. Water bubbled out of the shell and splashed into the basin at the bare feet of the goddess. The tiles near the fountain glistened with moisture. Occasionally John could feel a droplet against his face. Given the chill in the air on this January day, it was not a pleasant sensation.
“There are numerous chamberlains with varied duties,” John added. “Everything depends on Justinian’s whim. Narses is a chamberlain but also the imperial treasurer. Which makes him my superior. And it is obvious that he intends to make certain that he remains my superior.”
“I’ll stick to my orchards. It’s less complicated than the imperial court and a pistachio tree isn’t likely to stab you in the back.”
“But it might conspire to break your teeth.”
The gap in Haik’s grin proved the truth of the statement. He was silent for a time. His gaze remained fixed on John.
“You’ve been staring at me. You’re wondering about me, aren’t you? Do I look different? Has my voice changed? Am I the same man? Perhaps I have become treacherous and deceitful.”
“I would never believe that of you.”
“But that’s what they say about eunuchs. They are sly creatures. Always plotting.”
Haik looked down at the tiles. “No, John. Truly…I…I’ve been staring at you because…I can’t believe my eyes, seeing you in these surroundings. Can this be the young soldier in muddy boots with whom I drank a ration of sour wine after a day’s march? How did he come to be at the Great Palace?”
“After I left for Egypt I traveled for a while with a troupe of
entertainers. They employed me as a guard. I didn’t guard myself very well. I accidentally wandered into an area controlled by the Persians. Luckily I had learned to read and write before I ran away to become a fighting man so I had some value, especially as a eunuch.”
“But at least since you no longer…well…you can’t suffer from any urges….”
John looked at the slender, naked Aphrodite, one hand holding the overflowing shell, the other laid demurely between her legs. “I only wish that were so. I can remember what it is like to be with a woman in every detail. I am hardly the only soldier to be maimed.”
“Yet your misfortune brought you good fortune. God works in strange ways.”
“Does he? As far as I recall, I was the one who did all the work, Haik. My first glimpse of Constantinople was the bottom of the sea wall as I was dragged across a dock in chains. The Keeper of the Plate eventually employed me. If I had not worked to better myself I would have remained just another face in the administrative horde. But I distinguished myself. So when the emperor needed someone who was discreet—but disposable—for a confidential assignment, I had my chance. I made the best of it.”
“You don’t seem to enjoy the fruits of your labors.”
“I wouldn’t say that, my friend. Every morning when I open my eyes I take satisfaction in the fact that I have survived to see another day.”
Chapter Ten
“They should both be dead now,” said the executioner. “They would be too if I’d had time to prepare the scaffold correctly and the ropes were of better quality. I trust that the Prefect realizes it was not my fault.”
“Eudaemon wasn’t at the Praetorium,” John said. “An assistant told me you were in charge of the execution.”
“In charge but without the proper resources.”
Considering the number of condemned the executioner had launched into eternity he was an unremarkable figure, noticeable only for one shoulder being slightly higher than the other. It made him look vaguely awkward and uncomfortable.
“I’m a craftsman,” he said. His mild features belied the anger in his voice. “I take pride in my profession. A quick, clean death, that’s what I aim for. I once met a fellow who extracted money from the condemned man’s family on condition he’d make sure the fellow had an easy exit. Had no idea what he was doing. Botched the job so badly the victim’s head was ripped off. He never collected his fee. Whether the family got their bribe back, I can’t say.”