Nine for the Devil

Chapter Eleven

John decided to visit Theodora’s sickroom before leaving what had been her quarters. He navigated scurrying crowds of servants, eunuchs, and pages. The empress’ residence continued to function under its own momentum, mindlessly, even though its center was gone.

To John’s chagrin, Justinian’s treasurer Narses was in the sickroom, scratching a list of its contents on a wax tablet. “Justinian has ordered everything loose be packed up,” Narses told him. “If you must examine the place, please hurry.”

The dwarfish man’s fluty tone caused John to bristle. “I’ll decide how long I need, Narses.”

A sour smile flickered across Narses’ face. “As you wish. I do not want to linger here in case Justinian returns. He intends to have the room sealed. I have always been a cautious man, Lord Chamberlain. Since we are conversing in confidence, I will say that, given Justinian appears to have been deranged by Theodora’s death, I fear he might decide to entomb anyone remaining in here when it’s closed off.”

It would be ironic, John thought, if Narses proved to be correct and they were condemned to die in the same tiny room as Theodora had, watched over by the angels painted on the walls.

He did not find it very likely.

He looked around. The dismantled bed was stacked in a corner, its mattress atop it. Neatly folded bed linen lay on the chest of inlaid wood, now sitting against a wall. The marble-topped table stood beside the chest. The gilded icon still hung opposite the spot where Theodora had lain.

“What is in the chest?”

Narses shook his head. “I have not investigated, and since you are here, I’ll leave that task to you.”

John removed the bed linen and opened the chest. It was half filled with the small bottles he had seen at Theodora’s bedside. Wrapped in linen and of varying sizes, the bottles were manufactured of green or blue glass. So far as he could tell, all had been washed. Had any original contents remained, the normal procedure would have been to feed them to dogs taken off the street to gauge the effects.

“You won’t find the culprit hiding in there,” Narses remarked.

John ignored the comment.

“I have given the matter some thought,” Narses continued, “and it is evident anyone near the emperor-need I point out that includes both of us? — is not going to be safe until his desire for revenge has been satisfied. Who knows in which direction he will lash out once his first grief has worn off?”

“I can only attempt to do as ordered,” John replied. He was aware of the cloying fragrance Narses used to scent his robes filling the confined space.

“If the empress was poisoned, even if you had a suspect, how can you prove the act? I am going to give you good advice, Lord Chamberlain. Everyone has enemies. Name someone. Anyone. Then let the imperial torturers discover the evidence.”

“Enough innocent blood has been spilt because of the empress. I will not add to it.”

“It is unwise to speak so freely at any time, and especially at this time.”

John continued to unpack the chest. A set of ceramic pots came under scrutiny. These too had been scoured clean.

“Nothing to be learned here in my opinion,” Narses commented. “But having done my duty I must hasten back to my office and leave you to continue. I hope you find something useful, for both our sakes. But when you don’t, remember my advice.”

John gave a curt farewell without looking up. He delved further into the chest. There remained only one last layer, carefully-wrapped bulkier items placed lowest that they might not crush delicate glassware or pots. First out was a large earthenware receptacle, a kind of bowl. A wash basin perhaps. There was also a lidded ceramic jar. It bore the stamp of the imperial kitchens on the bottom. It may have held olives because what appeared to be an olive tree was embossed in its side.

Setting the jar aside, he next removed an alabaster casket decorated with a pastoral motif. Gentle-faced sheep grazed on a hill, guarded by a youthful shepherd. An allegorical scene. The contents of the casket proved to be far removed from the pleasant country setting, for it contained a collection of jewelry. The dull light quenched its glitter as he examined a few pieces: amethysts strung on a finely-worked gold necklace, a pair of crescent earrings supporting three chains of pearls apiece, a set of silver bracelets decorated with cloisonné enameling.

Had Theodora kept the jewelry close at hand to admire or had she insisted on wearing it, deathly ill and all but unrecognizable as she had become?

Free of its wrappings, the final artifact was revealed to be a plain silver bell. No doubt it had been used to summon attendants sitting in the corridor.

John gave the bell an experimental flourish.

As if summoned by its sweet, piercing tone Justinian opened the door and stepped into the room.