Four for a Boy

Prologue

June 540 A.D.

Sweet perfume wafted briefly from drifts of rose petals strewn on the marble floor of the Great Church as a procession paced majestically into the sacred building.

The lengthy contingent of court dignitaries and guards passed through a wide doorway constructed of wood the faithful believed to be from Noah’s Ark, and came to a halt in front of the Patriarch and a flock of lesser clergy waiting to greet them.

Following a few paces behind the emperor and empress, John glanced rapidly around. Hundreds of lamps filled the vast space with lambent illumination. His gaze skimmed over the huge church’s countless columns of green, pink, and white marble topped with lacy carvings and adorned with imperial monograms, the silver, gold, and glittering gems decorating the altar and sacred vessels, and the equally colorful ranks of courtiers dressed in their finest silks and embroidered robes.

It was difficult to believe that this soaring edifice had been completed less than a handful of years before, replacing the former Great Church destroyed by rioting mobs. This glorious, light-filled building seemed more a creation of angels than men.

From above came a faint fluttering of wings. A nesting bird disturbed by the commotion. Or perhaps, John thought wryly as a dove feather drifted down like a lazy snowflake, the Holy Spirit had decided to attend the ceremony.

John had organized the route from the palace and ensured that all participants were in their proper places. Now that the imperial couple and their entourage had entered the Great Church, his task was done for the present. As he took his place among the official observers, he noted the contingent of Ostrogoths standing a few paces from the altar. What did they think about this service of thanksgiving for the fall of Ravenna, a great triumph in Justinian’s war to regain Italy from their countrymen?

The Patriarch stepped forward to greet the procession with formal and flowery phrases. Emperor Justinian regarded him with a slight smirk while Empress Theodora maintained a neutral expression, her eyes dark as the black veins in the marble floor.

John glanced down at the petals. He no longer contemplated the political or religious significance of the ceremony. Nor was he recalling the lost glory of the empire Justinian sought to reclaim.

Instead, he remembered a woman.

Had it been fifteen years since he had tutored her? It seemed much longer than that. Then he had been an insignificant palace slave. Now he was commonly referred to as John the Eunuch, or more formally as Lord Chamberlain to Emperor Justinian.

He shifted his feet slightly. Fragrance wafted upward like a wraith from the roses crushed beneath his boots.

Roses always reminded him of Lady Anna.