Seven for a Secret

Chapter Fifteen

“Visions?”

“Visions!” John confirmed, taking off his boots.

Cornelia combed her hair. She was gazing toward the diamond panes of the window, in which John could make out her faint reflection as well as his own. Whether she was looking at herself or him in the dark glass he could not say.

Her thin linen tunica left her arms bare. John could see the movement of their firm muscles. She was as lithe as he remembered on their first meeting over twenty years earlier. Now there were sparkles of gray in her hair.

“And do you have visions, John?”

“Nightmares sometimes.”

“I don’t wonder. You need a better bed. You’d sleep more soundly.”

John lay down on the cotton-filled mattress. The bed frame creaked under his weight. It was the same bed he had used since he moved into the house. He had never given it any thought before. Now that Cornelia had mentioned it, he could feel the lumpy cotton pressing uncomfortably against his bony frame.

He didn’t think his nightmares had anything to do with the bed.

“I wish you’d let go of this matter of the mosaic girl, John. From what you say, the poor dead woman must have been a common prostitute. It’s the sort of crime the City Prefect will solve, if it can be solved, and if it’s even considered worth pursuing. Life is cheap here. Look at the state of those boots! You’ve been venturing into places a Lord Chamberlain shouldn’t be going without a bodyguard.”

“Anatolius and Crinagoras accompanied me for part of the time,” John protested.

“Ha! It would’ve been you protecting them if it came to blade work.” Cornelia laid her ivory comb on the wooden chest below the window. “No matter how long I live in this city, I will never get used to it. So bright when seen from the sea, but full of darkness even at noon.”

“That’s true, and it’s something that I wish to address. Apart from this matter of the mosaic girl as you call it.”

“You know, when you were younger you wouldn’t be talking about girls, mosaic or otherwise, when we were alone in a room with a bed.”

John laughed. “Well, I may surprise you yet. But I am concerned for your safety, Cornelia. As you just pointed out, it isn’t wise to be walking the streets alone.”

“I’m only out during the day and I keep to well frequented places. I don’t wander down muddy alleyways. Or did you find some foul swamp to wade through?” She wrinkled her nose.

“I should have left my boots downstairs,” John admitted.

“Yes. Peter will be upset. But don’t worry about my safety. I’ve taken care of myself in Alexandria and-”

“Yes, but in all the other places you lived, you weren’t a member of the Lord Chamberlain’s household, as I have said before. Men in my position have enemies. Many enemies.”

Cornelia sat down on the bed beside him. John was aware of her perfume, faint as a memory of their days in Egypt, and the warmth where her hip touched his.

“I know you have enemies, John, but I find it hard to understand. It’s not as if you’re an ambitious man.”

John laughed. Odd as it sounded, she was right. “What further ambition could I possibly have?”

“You could crave still more power and more wealth. The empire isn’t enough for Justinian. He wants Italy back. He never has enough churches either. He keeps building more. Everyone has ambitions. And consider Anatolius. He aspires to write poetry for future generations.”

“That’s Crinagoras. Anatolius has turned his thoughts entirely toward the law.”

“You don’t believe that, do you? And consider Captain Felix. As high as his position is, wouldn’t he prefer to be leading an army on the battlefield?”

“Probably. When he joined the excubitors they were led by Justinian’s uncle Justin, a military man. Felix has always admired Justin. It’s true, though, my office came to me, rather than my seeking it out. However, whether I am ambitious or not, there are those who fear my power, or resent it, and have reason to do so.”

John patted the mattress beside him. “May I invite you to lie down?”

Cornelia settled into the curve of his arm. “No doubt,” he went on, “I am a threat to many at court. It’s no good looking at me like that. In serving the emperor I have harmed people, sometimes without realizing it. Others may believe I have deliberately harmed them, or might simply resent me for reasons known only to themselves. And any of these people might try to hurt me by hurting my family. Which is why you should have a guard when you go out. I will have to look into finding one.”

“But John, I was the one chiding you just now for going about unguarded. You see, we think alike. Who wants a guard underfoot all the time? As I was saying the other day, I’d like to see your private bath restored. Then I wouldn’t have to go out so often, would I?”

John smiled. “As it happens, I’ve traced the artisan responsible for the mosaics. Considering how lewd they are, they may require some modification in addition to repair.”

“I think not. They’re finely crafted and nothing is shown that would embarrass either of us. Peter could be instructed to avoid the room if it is offensive to him. I can clean it myself. And the hypocaust doesn’t function any more, except as a good place for rats to nest.”

“I will engage for someone to look at that also.” John brushed an errant gray hair away from Cornelia’s face. “Is there anything else you’d like?”