Six for Gold (21 page)

“Please…please…Lord Chamberlain…if you will allow me to step away…I'll explain…just…just…”

John released the man's arm and walked along the road a few paces. Porphyrios followed obediently.

“Does your fear extend to horses?” John asked.

“I avoid them as much as possible, but donkeys most of all.”

“It must be difficult at times, particularly when traversing crowded city streets. What is your real business in Mehenopolis?”

“Although I was never a charioteer, excellency, I am in fact employed by the owner of a racing team. I was dispatched here to collect a large sum from Melios. He lost several huge wagers betting on races at the Hippodrome during his visit to Constantinople.”

He gestured to his belt. “I told him these reins would end up tied tightly around his neck, to frighten him into settling the debt. He asked me for a day or two to find what he owes.”

“I observed the painting of the Hippodrome was much more recent than the rest of Melios' frescoes,” John replied. “Even so, it's been a year or two since his visit. Why is your employer in such a hurry to collect the debt now after waiting so long?”

Porphyrios looked back at the donkey as it disappeared into the distance bearing Scrofa's lifeless form. “It came to his ears Melios petitioned the emperor about a tax dispute. Few are able to reduce their taxes, and Melios had drawn attention to himself. Once the imperial tax assessors had the headman in their grasp, there wouldn't even be bones left for the rest of his creditors to pick over.”

“And so he wanted to collect his debt from Melios before Scrofa could take any assets that might be available?”

“That's correct, excellency,” the other admitted miserably, “but unfortunately the assessor was already at work in the settlement when I got here.”

“However, with Scrofa now gone, you've got a better chance of collecting on Melios' debt. At least until the next assessor arrives. How very convenient for your employer—and not a curse tablet in sight.”

A look of distress crossed Porphyrios' face. “I never thought of that, but yes, I suppose it's true. Scrofa's death does look suspicious, doesn't it? Maybe the emperor—”

The charioteer was interrupted by a sudden shout from a man running toward them.

“Save yourselves while you can, sirs! Dedi's set loose another demon! This time it's walking the streets!”

Chapter Forty

“When your conclusions proved correct?” asked Europa.

“Of course Crispin wouldn't admit anything,” replied Anatolius, “but from his reaction I could see I was on the right track. He claimed he had to attend a service and could not spare more time. Then he said he'd send for me in due course for further conversation, as he put it.”

Francio laughed. “Watch out! He might try to persuade you to his religious viewpoint, Anatolius.”

The trio were seated in Francio's dining room. Anatolius had just completed a description of his visit to the Hormisdas and gone on to explain how he had reached his deductions concerning the events that had led to two deaths and John's journey to Egypt.

Europa picked up her spoon and pointed it at Anatolius. “So your reasoning was the wording of the will demonstrated Symacchus, probably the most orthodox man in the city, viewed Crispin with great esteem whereas most would expect him to consider the bishop a raging heretic? And it was from this you deduced Crispin had converted Symacchus, who began aiding him in an attempt to obtain a relic from Egypt? And how did the senator hear about this relic?”

“According to Diomedes, from Melios, one of the senator's many visitors from that country.”

Francio asked who Melios might be.

Anatolius beamed. “Ah! Mithra smiled on our labors, for Felix discovered this Melios lives in the very settlement where John and the others went!”

Francio stared down at his plate, as if reading some meaning from the geometric pattern in the ceramic. “I've thought of another possibility, Anatolius. The senator might have been disposed of because he had rashly spoken with Thomas, a man who lives in the Lord Chamberlain's house.”

“And John is Justinian's closest confidant,” Anatolius agreed. “Eliminating Thomas by arranging for him to be caught with the senator's body would also mean grave suspicion would be cast upon John for harboring a murderer. I doubt whoever was responsible could have foreseen John himself being accused of the senator's death, but it must have been an even better result from their point of view.”

“You're forgetting the most important thing,” Francio pointed out. “This mysterious murderer will doubtless attempt to kill anyone who knows anything at all about what's going on, which now includes all three of us. Dear me, this isn't the sort of conversation to whet one's appetite, is it?”

Europa ignored the remark. “What could this relic be and why do they want it? The churches here are already bursting with old bones and such like.”

“I'm hoping John can enlighten us when he returns,” Anatolius replied. “It can't be a coincidence Justinian sent him to the very settlement where Melios lives.”

A savory odor filled the air as Vedrix carried in a silver bowl filled with meat in a dark sauce. A ladle protruded from the steaming mixture.

“Let us put aside this gloomy conversation and celebrate your successful visit to the bishop.” Francio gestured at the bowl. “Please help yourselves from this most amusing dish. The markets might be empty but the spice of imagination is inexhaustible!”

Anatolius peered into the bowl and blanched at the sight of tentacles coiled artfully around lumps of meat floating in the thick sauce.

“There wasn't much to be purchased today,” Francio went on. “A rather mature octopus, a couple of fig-peckers, and an under-nourished partridge. So my cook and I devised this cunning dish. I call it The Wreck of the Ark.”

Europa gingerly ladled out one of the lumps and dropped it onto her plate. She poked at it dubiously with her spoon. “What's that, Francio? Partridge?”

Francio leaned for a closer look. “I'm not certain. Oh, there's also something in it that Vedrix caught in the garden, so that could be a tasty tidbit of weasel.”

Europa put a hand up to her mouth. “A weasel?”

“I wouldn't swear to it on oath in a court of law, you understand.”

Europa pushed her plate away.

“Condemned without a trial,” Anatolius remarked. “Barring Francio's testimony, I believe I could have conclusively proved these lumps are all portions of a succulent hare.”

Francio looked disappointed as he traded plates with Europa. “There's more than one in this city tonight who'd be glad to have weasel boiled in sauce.”

Anatolius rescued one of the fig-peckers and a bit of tentacle from the wine-dark sea. “Surely vegetables are still available, even if there isn't much meat?”

“Vegetables? What sort of meal can you make with vegetables? A peasant's meal!”

“We've had this discussion before,” Anatolius grinned. “Justinian manages perfectly well without eating flesh.”

“That's why he's ruled by Theodora,” Francio observed. “A little red meat in his diet might do the emperor a great deal of good.” He popped a portion of suspected weasel into his mouth and chewed. “You don't know what you're missing.”

“Nor do I want to.” Europa dropped her spoon.

“What's the matter?” Anatolius asked.

“We really don't know what we're missing, do we? We don't know what's happening to everyone. Where's Thomas? What's become of my parents? What about poor Peter, not to mention Hypatia?”

“You're safe here, Europa,” Francio said. “My home is an island of sanctuary in a perilous sea.”

“What will you do when Crispin decides to summon you to another interview?” Europa asked Anatolius.

“The bishop is nothing if not cautious. It'll take a few weeks for someone to go to Egypt and back in order to consult his contacts there, whoever they might be. We'll just have to hope John returns to Constantinople before then.”

Chapter Forty-one

“I've been called many names in my time,” Thomas observed, throwing back another hearty gulp of wine, “but never a demon.”

“It's your red hair,” John explained. “Many in Egypt consider it ill omened because their evil god Set's hair was the same hue.”

“People will kill you for the strangest reasons. I suppose that was the intent of the fellow with the knife who waylaid me as I passed by some ruin or other. I don't think he intended to trim my beard.”

They were sitting on the guest house roof, enjoying the light breeze that had sprung up after sunset. Several lamps cast flickering light, pale imitations of the vast starry vault overhead.

“I suspect the local residents wouldn't normally have reacted the way they did,” John replied, “but there have been some strange events recently, and old fears once raised take a long time to die down again.”

Thomas refilled his cup and gazed into the night. “The comical thing, John, is that I traveled to Egypt to save you. Anatolius sent me, but I'd better tell you the story from the beginning.”

John and Cornelia listened closely to Thomas' narrative, starting with when Isis' employee Antonina had told him the client who'd been talking about relics was a servant of Senator Symacchus, thus setting in motion the chain of events that led to them sitting atop a mud brick house at the edge of the empire rather than in John's house in the grounds of the Great Palace.

John restrained himself from chiding Thomas for his reckless stupidity. “So you went to the senator and offered your services in obtaining some mysterious relic?” he asked when Thomas paused.

“That's right. He gave me this and instructed me to be at the Hippodrome at sunset on a given day. I'd know the man I was to meet because he'd be carrying the matching piece.”

He drew from his garment the token in question and handed it to John. “The figure's been snapped off along with the top part, as you see,” he continued. “There'd be no chance of someone duplicating the missing bit. Very clever idea, wasn't it?”

“As you say, Thomas. Further instructions were doubtless to be given at this meeting?”

“That's what I was told. I do have some experience in these matters so I was not suspicious when Symacchus insisted on utilizing an intermediary. Now it's obvious he didn't seek my expertise, but rather my execution.” He frowned. “But how did you contrive to arrive in the Hippodrome on my boot heels, John?”

“You'd been going about with the look of a man with a guilty secret,” John replied, “and in Constantinople it's wise to know everyone's secrets, particularly when the person involved is your daughter's husband.”

“Of course, I should have told you,” Thomas admitted. “But I thought if I could help them obtain this wretched relic, the service would be worth a fair amount of money.”

“Strangely enough, we might be searching for the same thing, Thomas. Justinian is of the opinion those working against him seek something of value in Mehenopolis. Could it be this relic you heard about?”

“The orthodox have strange beliefs,” Thomas replied. He looked down into his cup. “It may be it wasn't just my behavior which caused you to follow me to the Hippodrome, John. Mithra might well have been dictating your steps. I hope He will look out for Europa and the others. It's extremely dangerous for them right now.”

“I doubt Mithra has any interest in assisting Justinian! As to those you left behind, Anatolius is much more capable than he often appears and Felix is on the spot too. Now what's this about you traveling here to save me?”

“An assassin's been sent after you.”

“I'd be more surprised if one hadn't followed. Naturally, I've been on my guard.”

Cornelia's face registered dismay. “John, the intruder on the night of the fire! It must have been the assassin! But who—”

“It was Scrofa,” John replied.

“The tax assessor?”

“He managed to arrive here just before we did, but that's not surprising considering we were delayed in Alexandria. When I examined his body earlier tonight, there were marks on the man's ankles I subsequently realized were strongly suggestive of scorpion stings. Remember, Peter drove the intruder away by throwing his jar of scorpions at him.”

“That's something I would have paid a coin or two to see!” Thomas grinned.

“Furthermore,” John continued, “despite Scrofa telling Cornelia he wished to talk to me, he made no effort whatsoever to do so, and I am not that difficult to find. He was overheard asking Melios about my movements. Then too Cornelia told me she'd seen Scrofa on Melios' estate the night of the fire.”

Cornelia gasped. “It's just as well Dedi's demon set that blaze. If we'd gone straight home…”

John stood up. “Cornelia can tell you about our adventures, Thomas. Justinian sent me here to investigate suicidal sheep and that I've done. However, since I'm marked for murder, it shows that, just as he suspected, there's something here of much greater value. And the most important thing in Mehenopolis is whatever is at the center of the maze up there.”

He looked toward the black bulk of the Rock of the Snake, outlined against the sky by an absence of stars.

“Dedi knows a great deal about that,” he continued, “so I'm off to interview him right now.”

***

John followed the trembling light of his torch. The pop and hiss of the burning resin carried in the quiet night.

The path was deserted. Once, he thought he heard the crunch of a footstep other than his own. He swung around.

No one was there.

When he approached the bench by the well, he half-expected Zebulon to call out an invitation in a game of Mehen, but the cleric was not to be seen.

John traversed the pilgrim camp and arrived at Dedi's dwelling.

Its owner was not in residence.

John knocked twice, then pushed the door. It swung open. Perhaps the magician trusted his fearsome reputation to keep intruders out, rather than relying on locks.

The disembodied marble limbs in the doorframe seemed to grasp at John, animated by the motion of the torch he thrust inside.

“Dedi?” he called out.

No answer.

John stepped through the doorway.

The room appeared no different from his last visit.

He decided to take his opportunity to look around.

Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling in the room opening off the first. It smelled of gardens drowsing in the last hot days of summer. Chests were piled against its wall. The room beyond contained more of the same as well as several amphorae, and from it other rooms marched back tunnel-like.

John continued on, finally arriving at a narrow chamber where a metal grate not unlike those used to protect shops in Constantinople was set in the floor.

He bent and shone torchlight through the grate.

A grotesque visage stared back.

Glassy eyes glinted from folds of shriveled flesh, and bloodless lips drew away from black gums to reveal uneven teeth.

It was the false head of Dedi's reptilian oracle.

John moved the torch further down and saw the snake itself, coiled up beneath the grate.

The creature didn't move. It appeared to be asleep.

Did Hapymen make a potion to keep it docile?

Beyond, John could see a dark archway opening into a shadowy ascending tunnel.

He pulled at the grate. It opened slowly upwards, making an alarming racket.

He began to step down, over the somnolent snake.

Then a shadow flickered on the wall beside him and before John could decipher the meaning of it his breath was cut off.

John's torch hit the floor in an explosion of sparks.

Reflexively he grabbed at the cord around his neck.

Someone had taken advantage of the noise of the grate opening to creep up behind him.

He managed to get his fingers under the cord. His attacker was not skilled in garroting and had not tightened it immediately.

Patches of darkness flashed across John's vision.

He allowed himself to relax and slump forward, then twisted convulsively, slammed his assailant into the wall.

His ears rang. He lurched out of the attacker's grasp.

Something hit him hard in the stomach and he crumpled.

“You fool! You've killed him!”

It was Dedi.

“No! He's just unconscious! I hit him with the end of the spear, not the point.”

That was Hapymen.

John kept his eyes closed.

“And you…why are you here, Porphyrios?”

“I followed him from Melios' estate. I realized the Lord Chamberlain had guessed the truth, Dedi. He as much as told me he thought Scrofa's accident was too convenient.”

“It wasn't an accident?”

“Of course not. Why shouldn't I have drowned him? And you as well?”

“Don't move,” Dedi said, “or Hapymen will put his spear through you as quick as he'd gut a fish. Consider this. If you murder the Lord Chamberlain you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, and it probably won't be a long span at that.”

“Doubtless you're wagering your own on surviving long enough to tell the authorities I was responsible for Scrofa's death?” Porphyrios sneered.

“Are you ready to bet yours on how fast you can disarm Hapymen? It's one thing to kill a sheep. I'm not a murderer. Then again, I know why you came to Mehenopolis. I'd be doing Melios a service if I allowed Hapymen to kill you.”

“How could that be?”

“More than one person overheard you threatening the headman, including Hapymen here. I have no notion how much Melios owes your employer, but for a start, that stretch of land he and I have been arguing about for years is going to be mine. I'm not letting it be taken to pay Melios' creditors. It would hardly be fair. I wasn't the one gambling at the Hippodrome, was I?”

“Very well,” Porphyrios replied. “Your logic persuades me to spare John's life—for now.”

The conversation continued, but blackness washed the corners of John's mind. He couldn't make sense of the words. He felt himself being rolled over.

“Tie him up, Hapymen,” Dedi was saying.

“Was it wise to let Porphyrios go?” Hapymen sounded worried.

“Another corpse would be difficult to explain, but more importantly Mehen has arranged for us to capture the Lord Chamberlain.”

“But you can't kill him, master, for the same reason you gave Porphyrios!”

“Just make certain the knots are as tight as possible,” was the curt reply.

John felt rope coiling around his body, pinning his arms to his sides. A foot was placed on the small of his back and the bonds tightened.

“I'll tell Melios the Lord Chamberlain's disappearance is Mehen's doing,” Dedi explained, “but that I can placate the snake god and get his guest back. For a price, that is, and the cost will be the strip of land I want. How can he refuse? John is his guest and Justinian will hold him personally responsible for his safety. Naturally Melios will agree to any terms.”

John was dragged across the uneven floor.

“And I'm happy for the opportunity to teach the great Lord Chamberlain a lesson in humility as well,” Dedi added.

The dark waters lapping at the edge of John's thoughts welled up abruptly, and this time he could not hold them back.