One for Sorrow

Chapter Thirty-five

Peter had not been able to disguise his displeasure the previous night when John brought Cornelia and Europa back from the Anubis. John had introduced the women and explained they would be staying at the house for their safety.

“But if any wag-tongues at the market should ask, Cornelia is assisting with the cooking and Europa is here as a housekeeper.”

Perhaps he could have thought of a better story to save the old man’s pride. Some day the strong-willed servant really would need help with his duties. For all his diplomatic skills, the Lord Chamberlain was not looking forward to dealing with him when the time came.

John heard voices in the hallway. Anatolius came in, accompanied by the women.

“It’s lucky I happened to drop by this morning, John. The hand of fate must have guided me here.”

“You said you needed information on the Armenian Ambassador to write introductory remarks for the banquet.”

“Well, it was fate I needed that information the very morning after these ladies arrived.”

“Speaking of which, Peter has showed us around the house and we admire your spartan accommodations,” Europa observed with a slight smile.

Cornelia chuckled. “John was never one with a taste for luxury,” she said, then added quietly, “For himself, at least.”

John noticed her gaze flickered to the elaborate wall mosaic which appeared, fortunately, sedate in the light of day. “The previous owner’s,” he told her.

There were chairs for Cornelia and Europa but John and Anatolius had to settle for stools. Anatolius poured wine Peter brought, and added a large portion of water in deference to the early hour.

“Despite the lack of furnishings, I’m sure you won’t have to sleep on the floor,” Anatolius smiled at Europa.

John saw the girl’s dark eyes were both watchful and serene. Had this curious combination had been born of bull-leaping? She might be a difficult person to take by surprise, a good thing in this complex and dangerous city.

Cornelia sat as watchfully still as her daughter, her gaze locked on John’s face. Seeing her after so many years, and in his own house, made his breath catch in his throat.

“I’m glad you brought the ladies here, John,” Anatolius said. “They’ll be safely out of sight.”

John shrugged. “Probably by now most of the palace gossips know that two women are visiting me.”

“I know you can rely on Peter to say nothing,” Anatolius observed.

“Yes, he can be trusted completely.”

“And the excubitors are within earshot if there’s any trouble. You’ll alert Felix, won’t you?”

“I think not. He’s distraught about Berta.”

Cornelia frowned. “Why do you imagine the intruder on the Anubis was looking for Europa and me? The city must be filled with common thieves.”

John raised his cup to his lips to disguise his long pause. “Two people have died and one has vanished. There may be connections. As I told you last night when I explained the situation, the girl who died entertained at the same party as you did.”

“We’ve performed at countless private parties over the years, John. There was nothing remarkable about it, except it happened to be arranged by the empress and the surroundings were particularly luxurious.”

“Theodora much preferred the lewd contortions of those clumsy dwarves,” noted Europa.

“A soothsayer also entertained,” John said. “And the day Leukos died, he visited that very person at the inn where he lodged. The same inn where Thomas, our mysterious knight is staying, where his acquaintance Gregorius the charioteer is staying, as well as members of your troupe, Cornelia. There must be a connection.”

“But if so, why isn’t it apparent? You’ve talked to all of them.”

“And no one has told me the truth.”

“If only you could be one of the flies on the inn wall,” Anatolius put in.

“Unfortunately the proprietors would recognize me now.”

“And myself as well, since I visited the soothsayer. Otherwise I would be happy to serve as your spy. But why so suspicious of the soothsayer?” Anatolius said. “He impressed me. I was pleased by the prophecy he gave me.”

He looked at Europa, but she failed to ask what the soothsayer had predicted. “There is so much darkness in this bright city,” she said. “It almost makes me wish for the true brightness of Crete.”

Anatolius lifted his eyebrows in inquiry. “Almost?”

The girl colored and looked down at her sandals.

John, watching this exchange, was set adrift on a sea of emotions. Cornelia, peering sideways at her daughter, wore a slight smile. The curve of her cheek against the colorful riot of mosaic behind her was uncomplicated, clean. John, suddenly weary, longed for sun washed walls, blue vaulted skies, open fields. His life then had been new and uncomplicated. Now it was anything but and he had no idea what to expect next.