Ten for Dying

Chapter Thirty-two

The javelin hissed past Felix’s shoulder and buried itself in the forehead of the figure sagging against Athena.

General Germanus, who had flung the weapon, strode across the flagstones to the statue of the goddess and admired his aim before yanking the projectile from the crudely painted face. Then he turned angrily toward Felix.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? You almost walked into my throw. Did you suppose I could call my javelin back once I’d let go of it? What are you doing here?”

“My apologies. I needed to see you urgently.”

Germanus stalked across the garden to the edge of the colonnade where another javelin lay, along with a bow and arrows. He was engaged in target practice with the dummy propped up against the statue of Athena. His enemy consisted of a faded garment stuffed with straw, now protruding from numerous wounds, and topped by a similarly stuffed sack on which were daubed simplistic representations of eyes, mouth, and nose.

“Haven’t I made it plain, captain, that when I need you I will summon you?”

“I wouldn’t have disturbed you if it wasn’t necessary, general. I find myself in certain difficulties.”

“This is of importance to me?”

Surely, thought Felix, Germanus must have heard about him being relieved of his command. Should he say anything about it? The javelin whistled past Felix again and thunked into the dummy. The shaft quivered, jutting from one painted eye.

“Could we possibly sit somewhere?”

Germanus walked past him to the target and jerked the javelin free. “Well,” he snapped, “are you just going to stand there like a stuffed tunic? I might mistake you for my target.” He placed the point of his javelin on Felix’s chest. “How did you get those cuts and bruises? Have you been brawling, or have you found a very spirited mistress?”

He grinned, showing his big, square teeth to the guards, who laughed in appreciation of his jest.

Felix felt his face grow hot.

“General, my only concern is to be ready to assist you when required. You told me you needed information that might be harmful to Belisarius. But presently, I fear I am being impeded due to certain…uh…certain circumstances, and I…”

Germanus laughed. “Do you think I require your assistance in convincing the emperor to remove Belisarius from his command? The word I have is the great coward is sailing up and down the coast, too frightened to land. He hasn’t taken his armies out of sight of the sea in years. He won’t fight without an escape ship at his back.”

Felix nodded. One didn’t disagree with Germanus. Yet the assistance of the captain of the excubitors was not to be lightly dismissed. Many powerful aristocrats and office holders would oppose Belisarius’ removal. Who could guess what lengths they would go to? Then too, once in charge of the Italian campaign, Germanus would need commanders personally loyal to him, with more reason to want him to succeed than to wish for the return of Belisarius.

But there was no point in Felix telling Germanus what he already knew. What he didn’t seem to know-or more likely knew but didn’t care about-was that Felix had lost his position. He must suppose that Felix still had the loyalty of his men. And now had a grudge to nurse, in addition to being desperate, and so might prove even more useful.

If so he would assist Felix.

He had to. Who else could?

“General, all I require is for you to have a word with the emperor or with Porphyrius, and the difficulty is solved.”

“Porphyrius? What’s he got to do with me?” Germanus turned his back and strode away toward the colonnade and the weapons piled there. Felix went after him. He caught up when the general stooped to exchange his javelin for the bow.

“Porphyrius has threatened to kill me.” He knew it was dangerous to make accusations about a wealthy and powerful man, but what choice did he have? John might have been in a strong enough position to assist Felix but he was far away.

Germanus’ expression did not change. He selected an arrow, placed it in the bow, and pulled back, testing, apparently more interested in the tautness of the string than Felix’s predicament. “You come to me to accuse a prominent and respected citizen of threatening your life? Why would Porphyrius do such a thing?”

Felix stared past Germanus toward the target. The dummy’s hideous painted face, straw bursting from its forehead and one dead black eye, might have been the half-formed visage of a devil. “It’s all a misunderstanding. He thinks I have the Virgin’s shroud.”

Germanus lowered his bow. “You’re mixed up in the theft?”

“Of course not.”

“But Porphyrius thinks you are?”

“Yes. Why, I don’t know.”

“So it is a minor matter. A few words will smooth it over?”

The tightness in Felix’s chest relaxed. “Yes. Exactly. I hesitated to tell you the whole story but I know you are a fair man.”

“And the little matter of you being thrown into the dungeons under suspicion of murder? That, I take it, is too insignificant to mention.”

The breath went out of Felix.

“Do you think I’m stupid, ex-captain? Do you imagine a man who drinks and gambles and mixes himself up in crimes, a man suspected by the emperor of murder, can be of any use to me?”

“But it’s not true. It’s a misunderstanding. A word from you and my position will be restored.”

Germanus showed his teeth in a snarling smile. “I thought it was you who was supposed to assist me. Get out of my sight, ex-captain. Leave the city immediately and never approach me again.”