Ten for Dying

Chapter Twelve

Anastasia sat up in bed as Felix raced into the room.

“What is it?” Her words were almost drowned by a thunderous knocking on the house door.

“Urban watch! And there’s a dead man in the bath,” Felix gasped. “Stay here. I’ll get rid of them. We’ll worry about the body later.”

He raced out of the room and ran along the passage into the atrium where Nikomachos was arguing with a pair of the urban watch. Felix was certain they were not the same men he had glimpsed coming down the alley. Which meant there were guards at both the back and front.

He didn’t like the implication.

Nikomachos blocked their path, gesticulating violently with his one arm. The two visitors, who were youthful and pink-faced, looked taken aback by the spectacle.

“What is it?” Felix snarled. “Why did you wake me up at this hour?”

The one apparently in command turned a startled face toward Felix. The skin which appeared pink from a distance was, up close, a mass of red blotches. The result of youth, not leprosy. “We…we have orders to search this house…sir.”

“Search my house? Hasn’t anyone explained to you boys that I am captain of Justinian’s excubitors? What possible reason can there be to search?”

The blotchy guard licked his lips and stammered. “Trouble has been reported.”

“Trouble? Do I look as if I need a pair of fools wet behind the ears to deal with trouble in my own house?”

It was probably not the best choice of words since Felix himself was still literally wet behind the ears from the bath water into which he’d dropped the body.

The guard banged the butt of his spear on the tiles. “Stand aside, sir. We must follow orders.”

Nikomachos stepped over to Felix’s side. “If I may speak to my master in private-”

The point of the spear immediately prodded his chest.

“No, you may not! Get back to your quarters.” Blotches evidently found it easier to order a servant about than an excubitor captain. But just as obviously he intended to carry out his mission. He addressed Felix, his voice firmer than before. “The orders of the City Prefect take precedence in this situation, sir.”

Nikomachos made a slow exit while Felix desperately tried to think of a way out of his dilemma. What would happen when they discovered the corpse? Was that what they were looking for? Or was it the stolen relic? Or hadn’t they been given any hint of what they were supposed to find?

“You will allow me to accompany you,” Felix said. “I have too many valuables here to allow strangers to wander around unobserved.” It was easy enough to sound angry but putting a note of unconcern into his voice was more difficult.

Still, the house was large. The intruders might flag before covering every room or lose track of where they had looked if their host led them on a circuitous route, which he proceeded to do.

The guards showed little interest in his office, except to prod the wall hangings. They passed through the dining room with a quick glance under the table. In the garden they bent to peer beneath bushes or poked at them with their weapons. Apparently they were not looking for something small. They couldn’t be searching for the relic.

The sun had surmounted the wall of the house and now blazed down. Dew steamed away in wispy tendrils. Felix took the guards in one direction, then another. He escorted them down a side corridor to the servants’ quarters. Each room was the same, a chair, a chest, a bed, a cross on the wall, and little more. Only Nikomachos had anything approaching decoration in his space: some tattered wall hangings, a wood inlaid table with random bits of small crude statuary of the sort found at the edges of the empire, along with several rather ornate chests.

The servant stood in one corner and glared at the guards.

Blotches picked up what might have been a weathered clay frog covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs. No, Felix corrected himself. It didn’t look anything like a frog. A cat, certainly. It was only the frogs in the mausoleum that had brought the image of a frog to mind.

“All the objects you see are tokens of military campaigns I served in,” Nikomachos informed the guards stiffly. “In your line of work, you will never possess such things.” The way he sniffed as he pronounced “your line of work” made employment in the urban watch sound several steps below cleaning the public toilets.

Blotches made no reply. Felix noticed he didn’t bother to open any of the chests. Was he thinking that a body wouldn’t have fit in any of them? He must have been told there would be a body here, Felix decided.

He directed the guards back into the garden and along a roundabout path, intending to return to the atrium. As they followed Felix through the peristyle, Blotches stopped. “We’ve seen the dining room already. What about that hall?”

“Oh, yes. I’m certain there’s nothing hidden in any of the guest rooms, let alone my bedroom.”

Felix was obliged to open the doors to a series of luxurious, seldom-used rooms which he never bothered to inspect for months on end. He was half-afraid there might have been something left in one of the rooms, given he’d already found a body in his courtyard. Momentarily he considered pretending there was a valuable object missing, blame the guards, claim they’d distracted him to allow an accomplice to sneak in, create a scene. At least he’d buy himself time. But for what?

“This is your bedroom, sir?” The quaver that had been evident in Blotches’ voice upon his arrival had turned to a tone of mockery. The two youngsters leered at each other. And no wonder. The bed and its sheets resembled the site of an earthquake, the air was thick with Anastasia’s exotic perfume, her cosmetics and a big silver comb were strewn on a bedside table.

However, as they examined the wall hangings, searching to see if they concealed anything Felix found nothing comical about the scene. Because it lacked one important thing.

Anastasia!

She must have fled.

Was it surprising? Why should a woman from the palace who’d only known him a few days let herself be implicated in who-knows-what?

But she did know what. Felix had blurted everything out to her. All about the smuggling and the missing relic. He’d even stupidly told her just now about the dead man.

If she tried to leave through the back gate, as she usually did, she’d be surprised to find her way blocked by a pair of guards.

Or would she?

Who had sent the authorities after him?

What was he thinking? He didn’t suspect Anastasia, did he? After all she was…well…what was she? Except a tireless bed partner? Felix only knew she served at court.

Even if she wasn’t involved in a plot against him, what would she do when the guards blocked her way? The easiest thing would be to tell them she had been going to report a crime.

To report a dead man. A murdered man.

“We’re done here, I said. Aren’t you listening?” It was Blotches.

“Yes. I know. I hope you’re satisfied.” Felix found himself looking frantically up and down the hall as he left the bedroom, expecting more guards to appear at a run. “You’ve seen the whole house now. My servants will be in an uproar all day. I’ll accompany you back to the atrium.”

Blotches looked down the hall.

“That side passage.” He pointed his spear in the direction of the short passage to the bath. “We didn’t check there.”

“Of course you did,” Felix snapped. “That was the first place I took you. Don’t you remember? You don’t think I have time to escort you around the entire house again, do you?”

But the two guards were already striding away.

“There’s nothing there.” Felix’s voice came out in a croak. “Wait, I think the door’s locked. I’ll need to get the key.”

They rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the closed door to the bath. As soon as they opened the door and stepped inside to where they could see down to the water level, they’d spot the floating corpse.

Blotches tested the latch and gave Felix a meaningful look. “Unlocked. You have a bad memory this morning, sir.”

Felix was certain the youngster was struggling to conceal a grin as he yanked at the latch. Out of inspiration, he could only look on in impotent horror.

As the door swung open there was a heart-stopping shriek that went on and on, echoing around the chamber behind.

The doorway was entirely blocked by Anastasia, who was entirely naked. Arms outspread, hands clutching the opposite sides of the door frame, she made no effort to cover herself but simply screamed and screamed with an effort that made her whole body quiver.

Blotches and his companion backed away in confusion, muttering apologies, faces as scarlet as a couple of abashed schoolboys.

Felix stepped forward, pushed the door shut, and as the screaming subsided turned a thunderous look on the two youths. “Well?”

Blotches licked his lips and swallowed. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. I believe we’ve seen everything now.”