Ten for Dying

Chapter Eleven

Gray light fingered the shutters of Felix’s bedroom when he woke from an uneasy sleep populated by dark monstrosities and dreamlike shapes of no particular outline but radiating an aura of dread.

He immediately recalled his encounter with the leper. It took him a moment to disentangle the memory from his nightmares. No, unfortunately, he had not dreamt it.

Anastasia slept on as he hastily dressed and went outside. In the inner garden birds had begun to address the dawn. The sky pearled to rose in the east and not far off the clang of hammers announced artisans had risen even earlier. The air was still and already warm, heralding another day of uncomfortable heat.

Felix raked his fingers through his hair and yawned. He wondered how John was faring. At least the weather was good for sea travel. How long would it take John’s ship to reach Greece? Would the estate where he intended to take up residence be habitable? Perhaps John kept better track than Felix did of his holdings.

There was no point worrying. He couldn’t help John at this point nor could John help him. He’d better concentrate on his own problems.

Suddenly realizing that he had been straightening his hair without thinking, Felix lowered his hand. He couldn’t stop himself from examining the fingers. It was the hand with which he’d grabbed the leper. There was nothing to see. Why should there be? He’d hardly touched the creature. Still, he could almost feel his scalp tingling where he’d touched it.

He chided himself for overreacting as he continued on through the wing of the house housing the private bath where he’d cleansed himself so assiduously.

The noise of hammering was louder in the back courtyard and he could hear workmen shouting to one another. He suspected laborers often chose to make excessive noise in the vicinity of wealthy abodes, a safe way to exact a small revenge on those born luckier than themselves. Felix surveyed the deserted courtyard. He’d apparently beaten his servants out of bed. They had been getting lazy recently. Probably they realized that the master, being strenuously occupied most of the night, would not be expected to make an appearance until late morning.

He was making a mental note to speak to them about being at work at the proper time when he noticed the man lying near the stables, face turned to the back wall.

The leper.

That was his first thought. The leper had crept in. Why hadn’t Nikomachos made certain the gate was secured? But as he forced himself to approach he saw the intruder wasn’t dressed in beggar’s rags. Far from it. The richly embroidered robes were those of a courtier.

Some aristocratic young carouser then, too intoxicated to get home, taking advantage of the first unlocked gate. Not that Felix hadn’t bedded down in similar circumstances.

He didn’t like being reminded of such follies-and not all of them youthful-so he gave the fellow a boot in the ribs. “Wake up, my friend. Time to let the devils in your head have their due.”

The body shifted like a sack of wheat and the head lolled over far enough for Felix to recognize the anonymous courier who regularly delivered illicit packages to the house. The broad ruddy face was bluish now, the mouth no longer wore a sneer. The bruises circling his neck made it obvious he’d been strangled.

“Mithra!”

Felix’s first thought was to regret that John was somewhere at sea now and unreachable. As a military man Felix was expert at creating corpses, not in handling ones that turned up unexpectedly. What about their mutual friend Anatolius, the lawyer? Lawyers were always dealing with inconvenient unpleasantries. True, he and the younger man had had their differences.

He stood there unable to move as if the corpse had grasped his ankle. He tried to calm himself down. What did the captain of the excubitors have to fear from the discovery of yet another murder in the city? He might well fear for his life if it was the captain himself who found the body of a smuggler in his own courtyard, particularly if the captain was working with smugglers and one of the most valuable relics in the empire was involved.

He commanded the excubitors, but not Justinian’s spies.

Felix gave the body another kick, freeing his leg from an invisible grip. “Bastard! Why didn’t I find out who you were?”

He could hear horses moving around uneasily in the stable. Was that a voice from the house? He looked around in a sudden panic. The courtyard remained deserted. But for how long? Nikomachos or one of the other servants was liable to appear any moment. Then what?

He had to get the body off his property.

Oddly, the gate was still bolted but there was no time to ponder that. Felix glanced up and down the narrow passage. To his horror two armed men came round the corner where the alley met the street.

The urban watch!

A routine patrol?

He couldn’t take the chance. He slammed the gate shut and ran back to the corpse. He could drag it into the stable for concealment.

No, too accessible.

He grabbed at the corpse’s garments, stiff with embroidery and jewels, and tugged. The courier had not been a small man. The body barely moved.

Cursing silently Felix managed to get the carcass over his shoulder. It was a skill he’d learned as a young man on the days after battles. Then he had been too glad to be among the survivors to feel the revulsion he now experienced as he staggered toward the house, the dead man’s soft leather boots dangling against his thighs, limp hands flopping at his back.

He managed to reach the back hallway and leaned against the wall, catching his breath. His burden weighed as much as he did. It was as if he was carting a side of beef. He had no notion what to do next and he could clearly hear Nikomachos giving orders to the cook in the nearby kitchen.

The bath.

He forced himself a few painful steps further down the hallway and pushed the door open, keeping his load precariously in place. He felt the burden start to slither off his shoulder. Then the dead man’s hair became tangled in the door latch.

“Mithra!” Felix muttered yet again. He twisted awkwardly and forced himself to tear the longish brown strands loose, animating the lifeless head, making it bob up and down as he tugged at its hair.

Finally the hair came away and the head lolled backwards.

By now Felix was half carrying the corpse in his arms. The glazed eyes stared at him. Just when he began to lower the body, the purpling lips emitted a last hideous sigh.

He let go and the corpse fell and slid down the three steps leading into the water. Felix was certain the splash was audible in the inner sanctums of the Great Palace. Wiping water from his face, he exited the chamber and rushed back to the bedroom.