Ten for Dying (John the Lord Chamberlain Mysteries) (25 page)

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 description 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.”

“I’m surprised Dedi didn’t sail immediately for Egypt as soon as Theodora died. He has enemies at court and no protectoress now.”

“He’s nothing if not inventive. Having failed to bring his former employer back, I gather from Felix he’s taken up residence under the Hippodrome, making a dishonest living by selling curse tablets to faction members.”

John gave a thin smile and said nothing.

Anatolius paused to collect his thoughts, watching his horse crop grass not far off, and then went on to tell John that he had deduced that Antonina’s servant Tychon would have been known to the missing courtier Martinus because he was also a former Blue, as Antonina had mentioned to Anastasia. “And his task was to steal from Antonina’s workshop the incense and mandrake causing those at the church to have visions of demons,” he continued. “He was suspected of pilfering and died when he threw himself over the seawall as a result of Antonina drugging wine to which, as it turned out, he had been helping himself.”

“It’s a complicated affair, Anatolius. You and Felix make a good investigative team. From what you say, presumably Porphyrius didn’t find out about Tychon’s involvement, or he might well have suffered the same fate as Martinus’ servant.”

“That’s what I think. After all it was the Jingler who was responsible for the details of the smuggling, so Porphyrius did not know every person involved, which added to his own safety.

“I base my speculation, admitting it is something a lawyer should never do, on the fact Felix told me he could never discover the Jingler’s superior because the Jingler claimed his instructions came from an anonymous party. But when he mentioned Porphyrius to him he became agitated, and what strikes me is that the Jingler’s death was unusual in a city where the typical method of settling disputes is a knife in the ribs. Quicker and simpler by far than creeping up on a man with a coil of rope over your shoulder.”

“Then again it may have been suicide, but two private hangings in one set of rogues is not met often in my experience,” John observed.

“At least some good has come of the poor man’s death. It transpires the Jingler owned the tenement in which he lived and once sold the proceeds by direction of his will are to be used to found a home for lock-makers’ orphans. Though I do wonder how many lock-makers’ orphans there can be, perhaps he thought such charity was the key to heaven.”

The two men fell silent. The scene stretching before them—the sheep, the sea, bees buzzing around clumps of wild flowers, a few olive trees—was almost too peaceful and transparent. There were no hidden mysteries here as there always were in the noisy, teeming crowds of Constantinople. Anatolius’ words about devious dealings might have emanated from another world.

Eventually Anatolius sighed. “So I think it is safe to conclude that Porphyrius planned to steal the Virgin’s shroud as part of his smuggling activities. He recruited accomplices he knew as gamblers or former Blues, while keeping his own distance. The Jingler acted as a go-between, coordinating those involved. Certain Blues helped Porphyrius to enforce his will when necessary since they are always eager for mayhem.”

“And Belisarius’ aide Karpos?”

“He was not involved with the smuggling operation. He had only arrived in Constantinople with Antonina a few weeks before and had hardly emerged from her house, even to attend functions at the palace, whereas Felix had on several earlier occasions taken packages from Martinus to pass along via his excubitors. Karpos, spending so much time at Antonina’s house, somehow learned that Antonina’s servant Tychon had been recruited into the plot to steal the relic, perhaps by overhearing a revealing comment or Tychon might have become intoxicated and talked too much.

“As I see it, Karpos discovered when Martinus was due to deliver the package containing the relic to Felix and either followed him or lay in wait. He strangled him, heaved the body over the wall into Felix’s courtyard, and made off with the shroud. Naturally Porphyrius had no idea who stole it and did everything he could to retrieve it.”

John considered the situation. “It was a master stroke on Karpos’ part. Felix, a man well-known as a supporter of Germanus, was left with a corpse on his hands. Not only would Felix be destroyed but Germanus’ reputation was bound to be sullied by association.”

Anatolius nodded. “The urban watch arrived to search Felix’s house only hours after the courier’s murder, almost certainly sent there anonymously by Karpos. The relic is extremely valuable. Murder to obtain it would be nothing compared to how it could be used—sold to raise the funds Belisarius hoped Antonina could arrange or perhaps held to ransom it to the church authorities. Perhaps it could offer Belisarius divine aid in his military campaign…and so being a cautious man, Karpos left on the next boat for Italy, taking the shroud with him. The
Leviathan
being a coastal trader it would have been a slow voyage but he and the relic were at least safely away from the city. And where is Karpos now? Presumably he waited for the next ship onward to Italy, the relic still in his possession.”

John said he thought the story seemed complete enough, but not entirely satisfying. Karpos, the man responsible for Martinus’ murder and John’s attempted murder, was free and beyond reach. The Jingler and Martinus’ servant must have been hanged by one or more anonymous Blues at the order of Porphyrius who, if he was not entirely above suspicion, was certainly for all practical purposes above the law.

“As so often happens,” Anatolius pointed out. “Still, if the relic is as powerful as it’s believed to be, it may bring its own punishment to those who misuse it. It may also have protected the
Leviathan
from sinking.”

“A nun who was traveling on board prayed constantly to her god and to the mother of god. Her prayers didn’t have very far to travel,” John said. “Here’s Cornelia,” he added as she came across the grass, stepping out of the sunshine into the shady temple to sit beside him.

“What are you smiling about, Anatolius?” she asked.

“It’s this. The shroud has been returned anonymously to the Church of the Holy Apostles enclosed in a beautiful box of polished wood which Anastasia recognized as a possession of Antonina’s. It appears that the shroud is larger and whiter than when it was stolen.”

Cornelia chuckled. “I see. A miracle, no doubt.”

“Basilius and the emperor were pleased to be able to tell the populace the relic has been recovered.”

“And what about Felix?”

“The information John gave him provided a weapon for Germanus to use against Belisarius, who is to be recalled.”

“So Felix has been given his command now?” John asked.

“He’s been promised one. The fact that most would consider a generalship a demotion from serving as excubitor captain is also convenient for Justinian, who has been embarrassed by this affair. Felix has freed himself of debt. Porphyrius helped arrange for their forgiveness in return for Felix keeping silent about the old charioteer’s activities. Now Felix is in favor, he dare not threaten his life. Of course there are always accidents…but Felix has also finally given up drinking to excess and gambling.”

“Again,” Cornelia said with a smile.

“So far he has kept it up. And he’s given up Anastasia as well.”

“You mean she left him?” Cornelia said.

“Not at all. He parted with her. His own doing, it seems.”

“A wise move,” John put in.

“She also failed to convert him to Christianity,” Anatolius said.

Cornelia frowned. “She must be furious. Do you think she is going to cause him trouble?”

Anatolius chuckled. “Not at all. She’s off on a new adventure. Attached herself to a poet named Florus. He’s penning an epic ode, as he calls it, about her.” He stood.”Unfortunately I must leave now.”

“You will not stay for a meal at least?” Cornelia asked. “We have fresh-caught fish. Peter proposes to grill it.”

“I’m tempted, but it would be wise not to stay too long. One last thing, John. Felix told me someone had damaged the mosaic in your study. In fact, completely removed it and taken it away. Probably a petty bit of vandalism by one of your enemies.” He frowned. “And yet, if someone was able to make the mosaic girl repeat the conversations you’ve had in that room…”

“That sort of hatred…it’s a good reason to be gone from that place, John,” Cornelia said, a quiver in her voice.

“I shall keep in touch, John, one way or another,” Anatolius said.

“Mithra guard you,” John responded.

Anatolius waved as his horse cantered away.

John gazed out over the sea. Its brilliance made him blink. He felt Cornelia’s hand on his arm and turning, saw she was looking at him with concern.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll get used to this new life in time. We are together here. That is the important thing.”