Nine for the Devil

Chapter Four

“Just because Pulcheria is not a demon does not necessarily mean that your seeing her was not a sign,” said Anatolius.

“Spoken like a lawyer,” John replied.

John had spotted his long-time friend as he left the Church of the Holy Apostles. Anatolius was only in his midthirties but his curly hair, once black, had turned prematurely gray. It distressed him, John knew, but made his visage resemble even more strongly the classical Greek sculptures, bleached of color by time.

Now they sat in Anatolius’ study. The cupids Anatolius’ late mother had commissioned still cavorted on the walls. He had also retained his deceased father’s desk with a skull depicted in its tile top. He did not meet his legal clients here, but in his office.

The room was uncomfortably hot despite the screens to the garden being open. As always in the heat, John drank more wine than usual. Who didn’t? He kept adding more water until it was barely palatable, but between the heat and the wine and lack of sleep the past few days he felt as if there were a fog behind his eyes. It was an effort to speak.

Anatolius had listened to John’s account of recent events in thoughtful silence.

“I would take you spotting Pulcheria-thinking her a demon-as a sign, John. I know you don’t think that way, so consider this. A lawyer naturally gets to know what’s on people’s minds. Courtiers and senators and senators’ wives tell me things they’d never confess to a priest. Lately everyone is frightened. They’re all certain Justinian has gone mad. Theodora was his life. He has had to watch her slip away, helpless to save her despite all his power. He is not necessarily the man you knew and I would not trust him. Particularly in regards to this impossible commission he’s given you.”

“What would be your advice?”

“If you were my client? I would advise you to do what you’ve talked about for years, pack up and take Cornelia to that bucolic estate in Greece, and do it today. You won’t, of course.”

John smiled faintly. His friend knew him well. There were very few to whom he had admitted his desire to leave the city and the imperial court some day.

“If you won’t think about yourself, think about Cornelia and Europa, and that grandchild who might be squalling even as we speak,” Anatolius continued. “You may choose to live like a spartan or some holy man, but nevertheless you are a wealthy man. One day your family will inherit your lands and they may have more use for them than you do. If you fail Justinian, though, he is liable to confiscate everything.”

“I could see that if he were still being advised by the Cappadocian, but-”

“The threat is real, John.”

“The emperor takes what he wants anyway.”

“He can be thwarted. Last year I was approached by a widow, a patrician. She had heard the emperor had taken a fancy to the family estate. It was not a tremendously wealthy family. The widow and her only child, a daughter, were going to be thrown out into the street or rather, since the estate was in the country, into the nearest pasture. I transferred the estate to her daughter, giving the girl a life interest, with the property then reverting to the local bishop. Once the bishop had an interest to fight for, Justinian turned his attention elsewhere.” Anatolius frowned. “Forget your estates, John. I hate to mention it, but your family might well be at risk if you fail. Justinian seems to have lost his senses. He’s lashing out in all directions. “

“I have survived at court for a long time, Anatolius. I see no reason this time should be any different.”

“In the past your main antagonist was the empress. To deal with enemies she and the emperor did not share she had to either work her way around Justinian in secret, or come to an accommodation with her opponents. Consider Patriarch Menas, presiding over things so lugubriously at the church today. A perfectly orthodox cleric who took the place of her handpicked monophysite patriarch Anthimus. Do you think Theodora wouldn’t have breathed the fires of the Christian hell on Menas if she could have? But Justinian is orthodox and, in the end, it is Justinian’s opinion that counts. So it was Anthimus who vanished, right off the face of the earth. And now, with this investigation, it is you who are likely to find yourself up against Justinian rather than Theodora.”

John nodded. He had not told Anatolius about the emperor’s implied threat but it was easy enough to guess. “There was a time when we met you’d read me the poem you had composed for your latest love.”

“We can both be glad those days are gone.” Anatolius brushed a strand of gray hair off his forehead. “Gone, along with my glossy black locks, as someone once called them.”

“I’m sure that someone was most attractive. But you penned good verse unlike that acquaintance of yours, Crinagoras. I suppose he is still at it?”

“No. He managed to marry an aristocrat. Her father convinced Justinian to appoint Crinagoras to a position with the Master of Offices. He also lectures on lexicography at the imperial school.”

“The young lady must have had execrable taste in poetry.”

“Not so young. Her father couldn’t believe his good fortune, finally having her taken off his hands.” Anatolius ran a finger around the outline of the skull gazing eyelessly up at him from his desktop. “Funerals always make me reflect on the past and the future. On passing time.”

“The gods themselves were born of infinite time,” John replied. He wiped away a bead of sweat that trickled down the brown concavity of his cheek. A yellow butterfly found its way into the study, fluttered around the painted flowers brandished by several cupids, and recognizing nothing of interest drifted outside again.

“We don’t usually think very deeply, do we?” Anatolius mused. “I believe we’re designed not to do so. After watching Theodora consigned to eternity I’ll brood about death all afternoon and then feel foolish. Just as I’d feel foolish about how deeply I’d loved some woman after the affair ended, but perhaps that’s just me.”

“I’m surprised you never married.”

“I was always too busy falling in love to marry. And then I started late on a career so I’ve been busy catching up. Some day.” He gave John a quizzical look. “That isn’t the sort of thing you usually say.”

John laughed. “I’ve been thinking about marriages. Cornelia was explaining all of Theodora’s machinations to me. Arranging this marriage, thwarting that one. She believes such actions would give someone a motive for murder.”

“She’s right.” Anatolius raised his gaze to the ceiling thick with chubby, winged cupids. “Eros halts the dance and throws away the bridal torch, if he sees a joyless wedding.”

“Nonnus.”

“You have read his Dionysius?”

“No, but you recited a bit of it to me a while ago. His verse is much too long and turgid for me, even if he is popular.”

A portly, red-faced servant appeared in the doorway leading to the atrium. He was sweating profusely. “Sir, a young woman is here seeking your services.”

John caught a glimpse of a slim girl peering around the servant’s shoulder. Her light hair was coiled on either side of her head in a style currently fashionable at court. He got up from his seat. “I must go. I have work to carry out.”

Anatolius stood also. “Think about my advice, John.” He looked toward the doorway. “I will be with you shortly, Vesta. Why don’t you wait on the bench by the fountain? It’s cooler there.”

When the girl and the servant had vanished, Anatolius gave John a rueful grin. “The fair young ladies now only come to my house on business. Alas.”