Ten for Dying (John the Lord Chamberlain Mysteries) (24 page)

Chapter Fifty-six

Dedi and Felix crossed the moonlit race track toward the spina. Felix half-expected to be greeted by the sight of the hanged man still dangling from the bronze serpents, the man without a face. Some whispered the emperor was a demon, that he’d been seen stalking around the palace late at night and he’d had no face.

Now the emperor was stalking Felix or rather having him stalked.

The shadows cast by sculptures and jutting pieces of architecture were so blackly featureless, every time he walked out of moonlight into their darkness he felt as if he were stepping into a pit. It felt like a dream, considering that he was here to observe Dedi bring back Theodora.

Which was impossible. Wasn’t it?

But then it was impossible that Felix had become involved with Theodora’s sister. Impossible that at any instant he might be seized and end his life screaming for mercy in the dungeons.

On the other hand, it was very possible that if he let Dedi out of his sight he’d run straight to the emperor or Narses in order to save himself by betraying Felix’s whereabouts. What choice did Felix have but to go along with him? Besides, he couldn’t bear to have the fiendish icon staring into his soul any longer. Its angry stare was like having skin ripped off by imperial torturers.

“This is madness,” Felix growled.

Dedi waved his hand dismissively. “Do you think I cannot accomplish what I say?”

“She’s dead, you fool! Your humors are deranged!”

Dedi shook his head in vigorous denial. “You’ll see! You’ll see! If I could control the demon that was posing as a servant to Antonina, I can control Theodora, too.”

“Servant posing as a demon?”

“Tychon. I followed him from the mausoleum to Antonina’s house the night the shroud was stolen. Later I put him under my power.”

So, Felix thought, there is a connection between the shroud and Antonina’s servant. No wonder she wanted Felix out of the city.

“You didn’t tell me anything about following demons that night.”

Dedi frowned. “Didn’t I?”

“No. Your boastfulness has betrayed you.”

“I didn’t mean to mislead you.”

“Nobody does. That’s why I’m totally lost.”

“You’ll feel better when you see Theodora return.”

“I’d much rather not see her, if I had any choice. And why the race track? You used every coin I had to bribe the guard to let us in. What if he recognized me? We might find ourselves surrounded by armed men before we’re much older!”

Or was that Dedi’s hope? Felix wondered.

“Maria told us he was the man to bribe,” Dedi said, “that he was honest. He wouldn’t talk. No one will think anything of another request.”

True enough, Felix had to admit. He wished the curse tablets he’d paid to have buried at the turns of the track had actually influenced the outcome of the races, or even one race. Then he wouldn’t have found himself in this dilemma because he would not have gambling debts.

“Couldn’t you summon her in a less public place?”

“No. We’re here because I need a place where thousands have died. It makes the magick more powerful.” Dedi’s crooked teeth glinted as he gave a malicious grin. “And where else in Constantinople have as many died as here during the riots?”

Felix had fought the mobs back then, under the command of Belisarius. That had been an exciting time. He had not been involved in the massacre, thank Mithra. “You’re right. It was nothing but slaughter, trained armed men against a rabble. You weren’t in the city then. It took days to bury the dead.”

The only sound was the faint crunch of their feet on packed sand.

Dedi came to a halt. Felix noticed uncomfortably the entwined bronze serpents looming above them, silhouetted against the gray sky. This was where the latest death had taken place.

“Now attend, and make sure you keep silent,” Dedi ordered.

He produced a necklace from his garment and laid it into a shallow hole he scooped out. “Stand back!”

Felix needed no urging. He took a few steps back and cast another uneasy look around. The bone white moon stared down. He could almost see the hanged man in the empty air beneath the serpents. The sound of Dedi pushing sand back over the necklace became the creak of twisting rope.

He looked into the stands. Inky shadows concealed most of the surrounding tiers of seating. He shifted from foot to foot, hoping whatever Dedi had to do could be done quickly and they could leave.

But what if Theodora suddenly appeared in the imperial box?

True, the Egyptian was deranged and yet…

Dedi finished scraping sand back and began to mutter, “May the blood of Isis—”

“Isis? What? Isis isn’t—”

“Fool! I’m not talking about that Isis! You must be quiet! First, a protective ritual. When powerful magick is involved, demons are not far off, waiting for their chance.”

Dedi returned to his task. “May the blood of Isis guard us from harm in this and all our doings.”

Clouds sailed across the staring moon and a chilly wind stirred Felix’s hair. From where had it come? Hadn’t the air been noticeably still earlier?

“…and by the words of power of the frog-headed goddess, I command you, Theodora, to come to me and do my bidding.”

Dedi spat three times onto the little mound marking the grave of the necklace and, raising his arms to the moon, burst into a rolling cadence in his native tongue.

It sounded hideously loud in the dead quiet.

Felix would have found the scene Dedi presented, his fierce face above the short body, addressing invisible gods in the skies in a shrill voice, comical under better circumstances. The wind was getting stronger and blowing some of the sand off the tiny heap by which Dedi stood. The clouds skittering across the moon made the light waver and the shadows lying across the Hippodrome squirm.

He could hear a rustling from the tiers of seats behind him.

Turning his head slowly he saw a shape rise and begin to step down.

Then more shapes. Animated shadows. Leaping and striding about.

Demons! The Hippodrome was filling with demons! The stands were alive with demons!

Cursing his imagination he forced himself to look away. But the effort did not free him from the nightmare, because he immediately saw, at the end of the track where the starting gates were located, a lone figure. Floating toward him, through bands of moonlight and darkness.

No, not floating, running.

A woman.

For a heartbeat Felix could see the cruel scimitar of Theodora’s smile, before he fought through the fog of horror engulfing him. “Anastasia!”

Dedi wailed in terror. “You’ve interrupted me! I warned you! The demons will descend upon us!”

“They’re already here,” Felix shouted back, grabbing Anastasia’s arm and turning to flee.

“Them?” She slapped his hand off her arm. “What are you seeing? You mean those beggars in the seats? A few always manage to get in here at night to sleep. Never mind them. I’ve got a message for you.”

Dedi moaned. “I should never have stood on those frogs!”

Anastasia put her face close to his. He felt her warm breath as she whispered. “Anatolius says you must meet him at his house. It is urgent.”

She had no time to say anything further before a contingent of armed men poured out onto the track, their raised lances and swords flashing coldly in the stark moonlight.

Chapter Fifty-seven

At least Felix had a destination. Not that reaching Anatolius’ house would be easy. Once he managed to get to the stables beneath the track he found his path blocked repeatedly by pursuers. How many were there? It seemed as if Narses had sent a whole army after him. At Anastasia’s urging he had bolted instantly. He knew the guards wouldn’t touch her and as for Dedi, he was a magician. Let him take care of himself.

Fortunately he was familiar with even the most obscure recesses of the Hippodrome’s understructure, having utilized those dark and deserted places for confidential meetings with charioteers and fellow gamblers.

He had managed to elude the hunters so far, but could not shake them off entirely.

Could they hear his pounding footsteps echoing in the stillness? If he stopped and kept quiet they would catch up.

He’d stolen a lantern. The light from the holes in the lid flung patterns against rough brick walls and a low concrete ceiling. At some point, without noticing, he had left the subbasements of the Hippodrome and entered the chaos of cellars, cisterns, and ruins beneath Constantinople. Was it any wonder the demons Dedi had conjured joined in the chase?

No, he told himself, the scurrying he heard was nothing but rats.

As he descended further into the underworld the darkness enclosing him seemed to call to some inner darkness. All of his fears rose up and filled his mind, a sickly haze over a dismal swamp.

More scuffling, louder this time.

“Rats,” he muttered. “Only rats.”

He looked back over his shoulder.

There! In the shadows!

The rat was man-sized and had extremely long limbs, spider-like, and a coat of black fur.

Mithra! A demon! Felix whirled and raced away.

He had completely forgotten the pursuing guards. Behind him he could hear the loud click of sharp claws on concrete as the thing came after him, never gaining but always on the point of being close enough to leap forward and grab him.

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.”