One for Sorrow

Chapter Twenty

It was almost noon when Xiphias, his head throbbing from the previous night’s over-indulgence, arrived at the offices of the Keeper of the Plate.

The past two evenings he had left work and plunged immediately into the well of forgetfulness offered by wine. What he was trying to forget was the visit from the Lord Chamberlain, that wretched apprentice who had by some grotesque aberration of fate managed to ingratiate himself with the emperor.

He also wanted to forget the way he had taunted that apprentice. The times he had lied to Leukos, claiming John was lazy and incompetent. How he had surreptitiously scratched vessels John had been detailed to polish. The occasions he and his friends had ambushed the young newcomer in the dormitories and beaten him.

Xiphias had much to forget. But what he could not forget, what pursued him like an army of Furies, was his awareness of the retribution he would take were their places reversed, and he was now a high official who had been persecuted.

His revenge might be as nothing as compared to what a treacherous, inhuman eunuch could invent.

Still, it had been two days since the Lord Chamberlain’s visit and Xiphias had heard nothing more. His terror had almost burnt itself out. Perhaps he was to be spared. For now.

Or could it be that the Lord Chamberlain realized Xiphias was likely to be elevated to the position held by Leukos and thus no longer a person to be trifled with easily?

The day might come when Xiphias, Keeper of the Plate, would not suffer nightmares every time he chanced to glimpse his former victim in the hallways of the palace.

He forced himself to straighten his slumping shoulders and put on a sour smile before he entered the workroom. He listened for the sound of scurrying feet as the feckless apprentices hastened to appear busy when he stamped in the door.

There was a curious silence.

For a heartbeat his panic returned. Had they all been removed for questioning in the matter of Leukos’ death? He knew the persuasive methods of certain of Justinian’s servants.

And if they revealed what they knew-as undoubtedly they would sooner or later-might they also speak at length on certain matters of no great concern to them as slaves but of great import to him personally?

He entered the open space with its barred windows letting in bright sunlight that made him wince and rub his forehead. The apprentices were there, silent, but conspicuously not at work.

“What’s this?” he shouted. “Why are you not at work? You’ll suffer for this! You!” he addressed a short, thin slave. “Explain. Has the emperor declared a holiday? Have you all been freed?”

The boy shook his head. “No…master…” The way he pronounced the title was an insult, and Xiphias advanced upon him with his fist raised.

To his surprise, the boy stood his ground.

Xiphias halted, puzzled. An expectant hush had settled over the room.

“You tell him, Beppolenus,” someone called out.

The boy licked his lips. “We have decided that we should inform the Lord Chamberlain about your visitor. The one he was asking about.”

“Oh, indeed,” Xiphias roared, wincing as the thunderbolts of Zeus exploded in his head. “Eavesdropping, were you? I never saw the man! He was never here! One more word and I’ll have the lot of you flogged! In fact, I’ll set an example with you right away-”

“It is wise not to be subject to rumors,” the boy pointed out with a crooked smile. “A person being flogged may say the most unlikely things, but such statements go round the court like lightning. Who knows whose ears they will reach and how they will be used? And even if nothing is done, still, there is always a lingering suspicion, a closer watch on the people concerned. Who knows what watchers might see?”

“A regular little orator, aren’t you!” Xiphias blustered. He sat down, trembling, and gaped at the insolent child.

Defied by slaves! They chuckled and nodded to each other. It was intolerable.

But what could he do? What Beppolenus had said was true. Xiphias couldn’t afford to attract attention or have his affairs examined too closely, and especially by the keen-eyed Lord Chamberlain. A man who not only had a keen eye but also a sharp grudge.

“Very well.” Xiphias drew the words out, trying to sound menacing. “I shall remember what you said. And now, back to work.”

There was a long pause and then the apprentices followed his instructions.

Xiphias went into what had been Leukos’ but was now his private office, shut the door, and sat with his pounding head in his hands. How could it be that he had suddenly become a man at the mercy of his underlings? Now he dare not strike any of them for fear of consequences.

Was it the Lord Chamberlain’s doing? Had he spoken with the apprentices? Was he playing some cruel game?

Xiphias sprang from his seat, grabbed a pitcher, and threw it against the wall.

He wouldn’t allow himself to be destroyed by a former apprentice, a slave, a eunuch.