Six for Gold

Chapter Six

Anatolius lit the terra-cotta lamp on the table by the door of John’s study. The flame illuminated what the gathering twilight beyond the diamond-paned windows did not. The room was sparsely furnished. A table, a scattering of three-legged stools, a desk, all guarded by a solemn-eyed little girl John called Zoe, who now glowered at him from her wall mosaic.

“Sorry to barge in when John’s away,” Anatolius said to the mosaic girl. “I suppose I’ll end up talking to you myself if I stay in this house long enough. In fact, as you see, I already am.”

He felt like a snail in a strange shell. He told himself to make a note of the image, then remembered he no longer wrote poetry.

The odor of burnt verse haunted the air.

Lighting lamps was a task for John’s servants. Unfortunately, Peter had left with his master and Hypatia was assisting at Samsun’s hospice, which was still overwhelmed by plague victims. The only person left in the house besides Anatolius was Europa. She had taken to her room as soon as her mother and Peter had left, according to Hypatia. If she had emerged during the day, Anatolius hadn’t seen her.

He was aware of Zoe staring at him. The shifting firelight brought her glass eyes to life.

“Have you seen her, Zoe?”

“Nooooo…” came the whispered reply.

Anatolius stepped back in a panic.

From behind him came a deep, muffled laugh.

He spun around. His hand went to the blade concealed in his robes. Not that the puny weapon would have been any protection, he immediately realized. The figure filling the doorway held an upraised sword. The intruder had his free hand half buried in a bristling red beard, pressed over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

It was Thomas, who glanced back over his shoulder, trod into the room, and sat down.

Anatolius began to speak.

Thomas shook his head. “Let’s not wake anyone. I’m afraid I’m in desperate trouble, Anatolius.”

“That explains why you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing out loud just now.”

Thomas grimaced. “I couldn’t help it. If you’d seen yourself, gaping at that mosaic like it was a demon come to life. Surely you’ve laughed on the bloody field of battle, even though it’s strewn with the limbs of your dead comrades?”

“Actually, I haven’t,” Anatolius replied. And neither have you, he thought. He didn’t believe Thomas’ endless battlefield stories any more than he believed it when the Briton claimed to be a knight.

“What are you talking about?”

“John. Is he terribly angry at me?”

“He isn’t here.” In a furious undertone, Anatolius related all that had happened in Thomas’ absence. “So John has been exiled,” he concluded, “and Peter and Cornelia followed him. I expect we’ll never see them again.”

Thomas’ face had gone as white as bone and suddenly his big shoulders shook. He drew in a great, sobbing breath, as if to steady himself before speaking.

“For one thing, John didn’t kill the senator,” he said. “I was at the Hippodrome and can swear an oath he’s innocent.”

“You were there?”

“Yes. And no, before you ask, I didn’t murder the senator either.”

“I don’t think you’re a murderer, Thomas. A naive fool, yes.”

“I appreciate your confidence. I’ll knock you down for the insult another day.”

“What happened, Thomas?”

“I had some business at the Hippodrome. When I got there the senator was already dead, or at least it looked to be the case. I was just bending down to be certain when John appeared out of nowhere and pushed me aside. ‘Go’ he said. ‘Run.’ I took his advice and just as he raced off in the other direction, Felix and his excubitors appeared. ”

“Then what?”

“As it was getting dark, I continued on to Isis’ establishment and-”

“You went to work?”

Thomas shifted on his stool. “I had to, didn’t I? I owe Isis money to repay that loan she gave me. And I’m trying to save as much as I can so that Europa and I can-”

“But you left John in the Hippodrome with a corpse and excubitors pouring in! How do you think it must have looked?”

“Well, you can hardly go out the door without stumbling over a dead body right now,” Thomas pointed out. “Besides, John is well thought of by Justinian, so I thought he’d have no difficulty persuading the emperor that neither of us had anything to do with it.”

“If you’d shown your face here after your work was over, you’d have found out a lot sooner that the situation is much graver than you could possibly think. And where have you been all day anyhow?”

“Oh, here and there.”

Anatolius got up and looked out the window. The cobbled square below was deserted. Beyond the barracks at the far edge of the open space, the palace grounds spread out their eclectic collection of administrative buildings, churches, and houses set amid groves, hidden gardens, and ponds. With the coming of night windows here and there glowed like jewels under a gray sky, which further out blended with the dark waters of the Sea of Marmara.

He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to throttle Thomas, even though the fool would have no trouble killing him if he tried. “What was it that took you to the Hippodrome?”

Thomas reached into his tunic and drew out a small item he kept clasped in his fist. “It was like this, Anatolius. A business opportunity presented itself and I leapt at it quicker than a beggar after a dropped loaf. It was something to do with relics. As you know, I’m an expert on the subject-before I came here I made a living seeking the Holy Grail. I sent a message offering my services to the senator. Being a cautious man, he insisted on my dealing with an intermediary.”

“Very sensible of him.”

“I didn’t know the person I’d be meeting, so I didn’t expect to see the senator, and certainly not his cadaver. And a very fresh one at that.”

Thomas opened his fist to reveal a piece of yellow enameled metal as long as his finger, formed in the shape of a T.

“This was given to me to take to the meeting. It’s a cross, as you see, but the figure of the Christian god’s son has been snapped off, along with the top. The fellow I was meeting was supposed to have the matching part.”

Anatolius held the artifact up and squinted at it in the fitful lamplight. He could see the enamel was chipped at the top and that another chip, toward the base, marked where the feet of the crucified man would have been attached.

Thomas looked expectantly at Anatolius. “Do you think this will help find out who killed the senator?”

“It might if John were here.” Anatolius handed it back to him. “Since he isn’t, you’d better stay somewhere else for a while. Somewhere no one would expect to find you. If the senator was as freshly killed as you say, it’s possible whoever murdered him was still nearby. If so, he might well decide to silence you in case you witnessed the crime.”

“But what will Isis say when I don’t show up for-”

The clatter of footsteps on the stairs interrupted them.

A figure burst into the room. Thomas dove for the doorway, smashed into the intruder, and pinned him to the wall, sword to his throat.

“By Jupiter’s balls, Anatolius!” croaked Francio. “I was going to chide you for leaving the door unlocked again, but now I see why you don’t bother, with guards like this.”

Thomas stepped back with an oath.

“He isn’t a guard, he’s a friend,” Anatolius said.

Francio looked dubious. “This ruffian?”

“Thomas is a member of John’s household.”

“Truly? There must be a fascinating story there. However, I’ve come to drag you away to dine. Nothing goes better with a good meal than sparkling conversation. I’ll supply the meal, you supply the conversation. Bring your impolite colleague along too. Perhaps some good wine will sweeten his tongue.”

“Francio, I’m sorry. I can’t accept your kind invitation tonight.” Anatolius paused and then smiled. “Thomas, however, is free. And you’re correct. He has many fascinating stories to tell.”

Francio gaped at Anatolius for a heartbeat before looking toward Thomas with an expression akin to horror.