Four for a Boy

Chapter Twelve

Sitting in Lady Anna’s study the next morning, John could still feel Felix’s weight. It was as if the excubitor were perched on his shoulders like a demon which had arrived during a nightmare and refused to depart with the morning light.

“You look pained, John. Is my work so poor?” Lady Anna’s unpainted lips were set in a line of concern.

“It’s well done, Lady Anna.” John set aside the copying exercise he had been correcting and managed a smile. Anna’s answering smile blossomed.

Anna might not have been considered a beauty by court standards. There was nothing striking about her features and she did not use cosmetics to paint herself a new face. John, however, found her intelligence attractive. It was a pity that her intelligence did not extend to an understanding of more worldly concerns, or, more precisely, other peoples’ concerns involving herself.

John made an effort to banish the excubitor’s phantom weight. His memories of dark streets and recent events, so inappropriate here, drew back a step.

In this room, painted roses bloomed on walls and climbed over arbors formed by arched niches holding the scrolls and codices Anna collected as other women might hoard jewelry.

“Am I progressing well with this strange language?” Anna sounded anxious.

John smiled again. “In a few more months you will be speaking Persian like a native.” His expression clouded for a heartbeat and then cleared again. Not quickly enough to escape the notice of his aristocratic pupil.

“You hate the Persians.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“Many hate them. With good reason.”

“Why then did you learn their language?”

“Of necessity.”

Lady Anna picked a scroll from the neat pile on her writing desk. “I’ve been trying to translate this romantic tale, John. It is really quite beautiful. The man has not seen the woman since childhood. One day her litter goes past and the wind disturbs its curtain. When he sees her, he is so overcome that he faints and falls off his horse!”

“Unfortunately, the Persians who formed my opinions weren’t prone to swooning in their saddles.”

“But aren’t they just like us? Most of us aren’t violent, grasping after power and wealth. Should Persians judge all Romans by the actions of a ruthless man such as the Gourd?”

“If they are prudent, they will.” John broke off, appalled not only at his own words but the tone. “I am sorry, Lady Anna. I spoke out of turn.”

“But in this perhaps you can learn from me? You are not a man filled with hatred, like so many at the palace. Why do you then hate the Persians so?”

“With respect, slaves should not burden others with their pasts.”

Anna toyed with her still furled scroll. She tapped it against her lips, then stared out over it at John. “I could order you to tell me…”

“Lady Anna…”

“I would not do that. The positions we occupy in society are not of our choosing, but our loyalties certainly are.” Anna laid her scroll back on the pile. “When I’m somewhat more fluent and have accomplished my translation I shall show it to you. The story concerns love between a man and the wife of his brother. A most improper love, yet I can understand it.”

“I shall report your continued progress to your father,” John said, changing the subject.

Anna sighed. “Yes, I’m sure father will be pleased by my achievements. I wonder why so many don’t realize there are greater enemies closer to home than at the border?”

Hardly a surprising comment, John thought, given the recent attempt on her father’s life. Seizing his opportunity, he asked her hesitantly if she had any thoughts on who might wish to harm the senator.

“When men become powerful, they have as many enemies as a ship has barnacles,” Anna replied. “Then, too often, men have long memories. They nurse grudges for years until their chance for revenge arrives. Or they have one too many burdens to carry, or some other reason, trifling perhaps in itself, but one that causes them to finally strike.” She paused. “Isn’t it said that the best revenge is one that has been contemplated for some time?”

“Certainly many hold it to be so. But as to that, although many thought very highly of Hypatius surely he too had enemies?”

Lady Anna shook her head. “You would have to ask those who knew him best, I suppose.” She paused. From further back in the house came the sound of a loud argument. The shrill voices of two women could be heard; they obscenely taunted each other, apparently having fallen out over a man whom one claimed was her lover, a claim hotly disputed with lascivious details by the other.

Anna looked neither shocked nor surprised. “Those two are always fighting. I shall have to quench this outburst before father returns. He doesn’t need strife breaking out in his kitchen as well as on the doorstep. If I have to warn them again they will have to go. This seems to be a good time to end my lessons for today, John, so I will say goodbye for now.”

John remained in Anna’s study and finished correcting her work before going into the corridor. He did not care to witness women’s squabbles nor to extend his increasingly uncomfortable visit, so rather then passing through the kitchen to the servants’ entrance, he decided he could be forgiven for leaving by the front door for once. Especially if nobody saw him.

Just as he crossed the atrium, however, voices and the stamping of feet at the entrance announced the arrival of Senator Opimius and a companion.

“Ah, John, are you leaving?” the senator said. “Remain for now, please. I want to speak to you about my daughter’s progress.” Turning to his companion he added, “This is the man I mentioned to you, Aurelius, the one I borrowed from the palace to tutor Anna.”

“And what are you teaching her, John?” The visitor arched an imperious eyebrow. His features had the look of the classical busts Justinian had imported and placed all around the Hormisdas Palace, although a tactful sculptor would certainly have chiseled away the nascent, middle-aged jowls. He could be nothing but a senator. A sharp contrast to Opimius, who resembled an assistant to the overseer of an obscure administrative department.

“I am helping her to learn Persian, sir.”

Aurelius ran his hand through black curls. Once, they might have been unruly, but they were now thinning and beginning to silver. “An interesting choice of languages. I suppose it’s prudent to know your enemies.”

“What is more important,” put in Opimius, “is knowing which of our acquaintances are also enemies. Anna chose the subject of her lessons herself. She wanted to try to learn something challenging, she said.”

“And what will she decide to study next? If I were you, I would be happier if the next subject she takes an interest in is one of Justin’s subjects. An unmarried one.”

“A thought that has crossed my mind more than once, Aurelius. But then you are a father yourself.”

“Yes, it won’t be long before Penelope and I will have to start considering matrimonial alliances for Anatolius. Not to mention placing him in a good post at court. Now, if only your Anna were younger or my son was older.”

The conversation was interrupted by two laborers in dirt encrusted breeches. The men strolled across the atrium, paused to give Opimius vague, deferential bows and continued on their way.

Aurelius raised his eyebrow again.

“The bath house hypocaust is not working,” Opimius explained. “Of all times to fail. Naturally just when I’d prefer not to be obliged to venture out to the public baths.”

“A problem with the flues perhaps?”

“Possibly. Fate can be unkind even to senators,” Opimius replied, going on to suggest they repair to his office. One glance was all John needed to know that his attendance was required there also. He could not help thinking that if Opimius’ greatest worry was a malfunctioning hypocaust, then perhaps Fate treated senators very lightly indeed.

As soon as the men were settled John poured them wine from the glass flask on Opimius’ desk.

“Opimius, if you will forgive me for saying so, with the state the city’s currently in, it is not a wise idea to allow unknown workmen to wander through your house. I’ve mentioned this before and I wish you’d heed my warnings.”

“Of course, you are right,” Opimius muttered absently. “You know, Aurelius, the view from this office is much more pleasant when the garden is in full bloom.” He scowled at the closed panels. “Anna has been talking about new plantings a lot lately although spring still seems very far away.”

Aurelius sipped his wine. “Yes, she loves her gardening, does Anna. At times I wish I had only a daughter to look after. Anatolius is a difficult boy, I fear. Headstrong and yet given to scribbling poetry. Oh, you can laugh, but believe it or not the other night he shaved the front of his head and ran off to play with a bunch of Blues. This was the same night the Gourd put on his little exhibition. The boy nearly got himself killed.”

“Just as well Justin didn’t hear about him being involved in that escapade.”

Aurelius waved his hand. “Oh, Justin no doubt knows all about it. It would have reached his ears before dawn that the son of one of his senators was involved in that frightful business. He’d realize the boy’s too young to have meant any harm. I’m more worried about the Gourd taking it on himself to investigate. You can’t tell what the man is liable to do.” He held out his wine cup for John to refill.

John did so, maintaining a carefully neutral expression. Even after some years laboring at the palace, he still found it strange that men would blithely speak of the most secret matters in front of their servants, or anyone else’s servants for that matter. It was obvious they considered them no more than furniture, and furniture could not hear. Even so, judging from Aurelius’ slighting remarks about the Gourd, it was evident that John’s new assignment had not yet become common knowledge. No doubt it would be soon enough.

“But what really angered me,” Aurelius was saying, “was that when he arrived back home in the middle of the night, the boy had the temerity to tell me some ridiculous tale about hiding in a huge pig and being rescued by an excubitor and a tall fellow with a strange look in his eyes.”

Opimius smiled. “Sounds like a budding Homer to me.”

“I see you are as amused as I was! Or as amused as I was after I punished him. It’s one thing to go out and risk life and limb. We all did that when we were young. Nonetheless, I will not have him lying to me. I sent him off to stay with his uncle Zeno for a while. Away from the city. That’ll keep him out of mischief!”

“Zeno? Is that wise? Isn’t he the fellow who aspires to launch himself from a tower and fly across the Golden Horn?”

“You’re thinking of the man who calls himself Avis. Zeno has some eccentric interests, but he’s harmless. The gods forbid that Anatolius should ever make the acquaintance of Avis.”

“I wish they hadn’t seen fit to allow Anna to meet Avis.” Opimius sounded rueful. “Luckily she has sense enough not to try out these wings he’s said to be working on. Or at least I hope not. Unfortunately she insists on contributing to his expenses on a regular basis. I fear her fancies sometimes run away with her reason. Penelope must have been frantic over your son’s adventure.”

“Indeed she was. She’s already upset about our impending move. She doesn’t want to live closer to the palace, and I don’t blame her. I think she’ll grow fond of the new house in due course, especially since she has a free hand with its decoration.”

“When are you moving?”

“Next month. By the time Anatolius returns from his little holiday at the seaside, we’ll be settled in.”

“He does know you’re moving to a new house?” Opimius asked with a twinkle in his eye. “I mean, he won’t get back and find the old one shuttered and deserted?”

“What? Oh, yes, I see. Very good jest, Opimius!” Aurelius laughed.

John came to a sudden decision. “If I may speak, Senator Opimius?”

He had spoken quietly, but Opimius’ expression could not have been more startled if his desk had begun to recite Ovid. The tone in which he granted permission clearly indicated there would be a price to be paid later for the impudence. John forged ahead anyway.

“Senator Aurelius, your son told you nothing but the truth concerning his odyssey the other night.”

Aurelius’ classical features twisted into a most unclassical scowl. He looked John up and down.

“And how would you know?” he barked. “You’re obviously not a Blue and they were the only ones there at the time, apart from the Gourd’s men.”

“My apologies, senator, but I was there also.” John rapidly described what had transpired after he and Felix had discovered the boy in the butcher’s shop. He was careful to say nothing of the nature of his assignment beyond a brief mention that it had placed Felix and himself into temporary service with the Gourd.

Aurelius’ expression softened as the details John gave proved the truth of his claim. “So, you are working for the Prefect, whom I have just jestingly been referring to by his nickname…and you are the tall man my son spoke about? I hear that your cloak was torn to shreds?”

“It was ruined by pig’s blood, senator.”

“Certainly. I was just testing the veracity of your statements,” Aurelius admitted. “If Senator Opimius will permit you to come to my house later today, I will be happy to reward you for your swift action. I’ll also reimburse you for your cloak. And the excubitor’s name?”

“It was the German, Felix. He is one of Justin’s bodyguards. But if I may…” John paused and then, taking heart from the fact that given his task he was surely under Justinian’s protection, plunged on, ignoring the darkening expression on Opimius’ face. “I would wish to ask for something different as a reward.”

Aurelius waved his hand airily once more. It had the studied look of a much-practiced gesture. “And this would be?”

“I wish to ask you a couple of questions.”

“I see! This is a shrewd fellow indeed, Opimius. He values a senator’s knowledge more highly than gold. Proceed! I am not promising I will answer, mark you.”

“Senator, you know most of the court and many landowners and wealthy citizens. Are you aware of any who harbor ill will toward the emperor’s nephew, Justinian?”

The two senators looked alike in their surprise.

“Not only a shrewd fellow, but courageous as well, to ask such a question,” Aurelius remarked. “This man is on the path to great things.”

“Unfortunately,” observed Opimius, “that particular path passes by more than one early grave.”

“This is entirely irregular,” Aurelius said after a gulp of wine. “But then, since you are out and about with one of Justin’s bodyguards, I must assume that perhaps you seek this information for another.” He stopped speaking and looked expectant, but John did not take the opportunity to respond.

“I have as much as admitted my son owes his life to you and Felix, so I can hardly refuse,” Aurelius finally said. “I trust I do not need to remind you that I speak in confidence or that a slave’s word against a senator’s isn’t worth a half-nummus. I note you have not revealed the details surrounding this assignment of yours so you are obviously a man of discretion.”

John nodded silently.

Opimius set his cup down on his desk. “This is quite absurd, Aurelius. I must apologize.”

Aurelius shook his head. “No, I find it rather interesting. I would not be surprised if John here plans to pose equally impertinent questions to whomever I name. Besides, we should all welcome any opportunity to assist our next emperor, no matter the odd guise in which it may present itself. So I believe I can suggest a couple of appropriate avenues of inquiry.”

“It’s all Anna’s doing,” Opimius replied. “She’s never stern enough with the servants. She gets too fond of them, you see. I’ll send him off immediately.”

“That would be an error, I think. After all, he and I seem to be working to the same end. John, I will give you two names, and no more than that. However, I would not be accused of saying anything slanderous nor do I care to be asked how I know this or that. Let’s say I am basing what I tell you on nothing more than a feeling that I have. Or to put it another way I am playing at being the oracle. And my pronouncement, based on the direction of the wind, is that you should seek out Tryphon, whose mansion overlooks the Golden Horn. The other person is someone you may have seen here on occasion. Trenico.”

“Trenico? One of two upon whom you’d cast suspicion?” Opimius’ face reddened. “Aurelius, I hope you’re not implying that I…”

“I’m implying nothing, Opimius. Your friends are all well aware of Trenico’s interest in your daughter. But people who are not familiar with your domestic situation, well, they may draw entirely the wrong conclusions.”

“But Trenico is a confidante of Theodora’s!”

“So he says. Heed the oracle, my friend.” Aurelius smiled, but there was a chill in his eyes. “Now, we should get on with our business and John here can proceed with his.” He pursed his lips and stared at John. “Yes, my son is more perceptive than I at times. There is definitely something strange in those eyes. As for getting any information out of the two men I’ve named, I wish you luck.”