Six for Gold

Chapter Two

“He shall be merciful and allow you to keep one eye. We would not wish you to be unable to see what is in store after the torturers begin their work.” Theodora’s mouth curved into a scarlet scimitar.

A smile of anticipation.

John gazed over her head at the opposite wall of the torch-lit cell. He was chained naked to damp stones.

Although he avoided looking at his visitor, he could not escape her musk, a mixture of stale perfume, exotic spices, and sweat. He imagined she had been roused from sleep and instructed her ladies-in-waiting to dress her in the first robes that came to hand.

Theodora selected a pair of bloodstained pincers from a wooden table upon which were ranged a variety of instruments, many resembling physicians’ tools. Her sharp, experimental click of the pincers drew John’s unwilling attention.

Theodora set the tool down and picked up a wooden-handled razor. “Think of the damage this keen edge will do.”

She looked John up and down. He could feel her gaze crawling over his body with a thousand insect-like legs.

“You are in fine physical condition. You will endure longer than most, once the work begins. Unfortunately for you, Lord Chamberlain.”

She sighed. “That sounds like such an inappropriate title for one in your circumstances. Perhaps I should call you what the people in the streets do-John the Eunuch. Such a pity the Persians began our work for us. I am not without mercy. I like to give our special male guests a choice. Would you prefer to lose your eyes or…but that is an opportunity I cannot offer you. I give them a week to ponder the decision, just to be fair. What would you have chosen? Your eyes?”

John made no reply.

“Such a shame,” Theodora continued. “I should have enjoyed seeing…but there are other possibilities. The skin can be removed piece by piece for some time before oblivion. Did you know that? Then again, we might do better not to pollute the flagstones with your blood, but rather break your bones one by one instead.”

She tested the razor’s edge with a slender fingertip. “This is sharp enough to have been used by a tonsor. Do you suppose the razor that trims the beard longs for the flesh of the throat? So near…but I notice you are strangely silent. You will soon have ample opportunity to test your discretion. I shall order that your inquisition be completed before your tongue is removed.”

“I have nothing to say, highness.”

Rage flared in Theodora’s eyes. She lifted the blade. For an instant he thought she intended to slash him. Instead she struck him across the face with the flat of the blade. A thread of blood trickled down the concavity of John’s cheek.

“You murdered a senator! Why? There is a reason and I will have it! Not even you can thwart me. It will be an interesting interview tomorrow and I look forward to it. Don’t think you can escape our justice by biting off your tongue and choking yourself. You will be watched. You are a practical man and know your life is already forfeit. Why make whatever remains of it any more painful than it must be?”

John was silent.

Theodora’s dark eyes glittered. “Very well. If you remain stubborn, I shall order the women in your household brought here. That one you call your wife…my servants will be able to offer her more, shall we say, intimate hospitality than you can, and you will witness it all.”

She emitted a coarse laugh and opened the cell door. “Good night, dear Lord Chamberlain. While you’re waiting for sunrise, you can consider what I’ve told you and count the passing hours until our next conversation.”

***

As the door closed behind the empress, John allowed himself a thin smile. Then he leaned back against the rough stones. The scent of the empress remained, vanishingly faint yet discernable, an incongruous contrast to the malodor of the stuffy room.

His thoughts were not for himself but his family. His daughter Europa and her mother Cornelia, who had ill-advisedly set foot in this city where the scent of the empress who hated John was always in the air. There was also his daughter’s new husband. That reckless fool Thomas.

What would they make of it all? What would they do now?

The door squealed open.

Two unfamiliar excubitors entered, removed his chains, threw a rough tunic over his nakedness, and shoved him out into the gloomy corridor. Other guards waited. He looked around, thinking he glimpsed Felix in the shadows at the back of the group. Strong hands forced his face forward.

“Watch where you’re going!” A sword pommel jabbed hard in the back emphasized the curt instruction.

John was led along twisting passages, past nail-studded, iron-banded doors pierced with rusty, barred grates, up steep staircases, down, and along more corridors lined by other cell doors, then up once again. The measured tramp of his escorts’ boots did not stir the black veil of darkness lying beyond the reach of their torches.

The party emerged into a soaring, echoing space he recognized as one of the emperor’s reception halls.

It was not yet dawn. Tall windows held only a gray glow. Terra cotta lamps strewn across the dark marble floor illuminated the hall with hundreds of trembling flames. John had the impression of gazing down at the lights of a city. Smoke coiled up into a haze through which twinkled an enormous constellation in the shape of a massive cross, drawn in gold and precious stones on the vaulted ceiling.

At a hoarse command-he recognized Felix’s voice-the excubitors came to a halt. Firm hands pushed him onward, into a curving lane of darkness between the lamps, leading toward a mountainous ivory throne from which Jupiter might preside. Or Jupiter and Juno, for there were two seats.

An indistinct group of figures moved in the smoke swirling behind the throne. John’s keen eye caught a brief flash of gems on the hem of a cloak.

The emperor?

The wearer’s pale, phantom visage coalesced for a heartbeat. John could not say whether it was smoke, his imagination, or the flickering light, but the face did not quite attain human form before it dissipated into darkness.

The misshapen, inhuman image floated in John’s memory after the vision itself had vanished. He recalled wild tales told in the city. They claimed Justinian was a faceless demon who never slept but instead stalked the halls of the Great Palace all night.

As if summoned by the thought, Justinian approached from the shadows, his face not demonic, but as bland and round as a country farmer.

“Lord Chamberlain! Take care you don’t trip! I do not usually receive visitors at this time of the night, but the lamps are kept lit for our nocturnal strolls. The emperor should never be kept in the dark.” He spoke softly, his words intended only for John.

John said nothing.

“You are not in a humorous mood? But why should you be? Murder is always a vexatious matter, and the killing of a senator…It has been a busy night. You realize you have given me no choice? Innocent men do not flee. That’s what everyone at the palace will be whispering. One can think of a thousand reasons why a Lord Chamberlain might kill, but not a single one why he should then run away as if he were some common criminal.”

Justinian waved his hand in exasperation. The movement of his heavy sleeve made the flames of nearby lamps tremble and sent shadows rolling along the walls.

“Powerful men may do what they wish, provided they are discreet,” he went on. “For the emperor to pardon a man who has so plainly admitted his guilt…there would be grumbling, which so often leads to unrest. And what would the Patriarch say? There is nothing I can do but exile you.” Although Justinian was already speaking quietly he lowered his reedy voice further before adding, “I see you grasped your opportunity, John. Well done.”

“I did not kill Symacchus, Caesar.”

“Oh, I’m not concerned about that. The important thing is you have arranged matters most conveniently.”

“You will send me to Egypt?”

“Of course. Perhaps there you will find the answer that has thus far eluded you here in the city.”

“It is difficult to investigate here without disturbing the empress,” John admitted.

“You are aware the empress has a strong Christian interest in justice being done. She would prefer your tongue be exiled from your mouth, for a start.”

“Have you elicited any new information regarding the situation in Egypt, excellency? I appreciate your informant has been vague, nevertheless, with so little known so far I have been chasing phantoms.”

“Better that than faceless demons, wouldn’t you agree?”

John gave a slight nod.

“My spies have given me the name of a certain landowner. A fellow called…ah…the name escapes me. Strange to relate, I granted him an audience in this very hall. There couldn’t have been more than a hundred other petitioners that day. Last year? Or was it before the riots? I believe the man’s father also once visited the capital. Something involving taxation or possibly a property dispute. In any event, the family is not entirely unknown to me.”

“Do they reside in Alexandria?”

“No. The settlement is some distance up the river. Most of Egypt is up the river, is it not? As you already know, those who oppose me-whoever they are-appear to believe there is something important to their cause in Egypt, and this location appears to be the place to begin your investigation.”

He handed John an official document burdened by the heavy imperial seal. “This is your letter of introduction. One more thing. I have just learnt there have been a number of mysterious deaths on this man’s estate. They should serve you as a starting gate.”

John peered into the emperor’s face. There seemed no life in the small eyes, except that lent to them by the lamplight’s exaggerated shadows. He might have been examining a mask. “These deaths are mysterious, Caesar?”

“Oh yes, like nothing I have ever heard before. The man’s sheep, although guarded and locked in a barn, are beheading themselves.”