Four for a Boy (23 page)

Felix stepped between John and the Gourd.

The Gourd nudged the lifeless body at his feet with the toe of his boot, then addressed the stunned and silent onlookers. He tilted his monstrous head toward a knot of Blues. “Quite a few of you may soon be joining this fellow in the afterlife. As I have warned, riots will be crushed without mercy. I do believe that one was brewing here.”

Archdeacon Palamos stepped toward the Gourd. “More killing won’t resolve anything. In the name of the Lord, I command you to leave this holy place immediately!”

Dozens of the Gourd’s men poured into the vestibule, herding terrified people before them. Another contingent emerged from the nave, having entered through a side door.

The operation was well planned. It would not be long before troublemakers, real and imagined, would be hauled off to the dungeons. Nor would it be long before the Gourd’s men, methodically examining the crowd, discovered the tall thin Greek whom their master wanted dead.

John glanced at Timothy. The grocer still embraced the marble figure. Though no longer the center of attention, he grinned with apparent delight at the incipient slaughter.

Then John turned his gaze on the Gourd and drew his sword. He could do some good before he was discovered.

Felix caught his wrist in a crushing grip and shook his head slightly.

The Gourd’s men had closed their ring around the crowd, forcing it into a tight mass. The portly man cursed as he was crushed against the statue, and again as more men were forced against him by the tightening circle. A number of the crowd sought safety by clambering up onto the pedestal next to Timothy.

“The bastard’s going to set his men loose,” whispered Felix. “He wants a bloodbath. He’ll call it a riot afterward and who’ll contradict him?”

Even as Felix spoke, the Gourd began to raise his sword as a signal for the sort of slaughter John and Felix had witnessed near the Strategion.

Before the signal could be completed, the mass of men clinging to the looming sculpture unbalanced it.

The great Christ figure rocked backward and then toppled forward, shedding human barnacles as those who had sought its safety leapt away.

The sculpture hit the floor and shattered in a thunderous, echoing explosion. Chunks of marble went spinning and rolling across the vestibule.

An unearthly scream mounted into the shadowed vault overhead before trailing away in a chilling gurgle. For a heartbeat John thought of the death bellow of the Great Bull slain by Mithra.

Even the Gourd stood transfixed.

The Christ lay stretched out toward the church entrance like a toppled marble tree. The head lay in one corner. Here was a hand, there a part of the cross beam. One or two of the crowd lay moaning on the floor, but the only person seriously injured appeared to be Timothy.

John knelt beside him.

The grocer’s eyes were closed. Blood flowed from his mouth, but his chest still moved in a shallow fashion.

Felix was at John’s side instantly. “Hurry! We have to get out of here! You’re sure to be spotted!”

“No, Felix. There’s one last thing I have to know.”

He shook Timothy’s shoulder roughly. The grocer’s eyes opened. His lips moved. Blood bubbled out. He spat and began to speak. “He was my son. My only child. He was playing in the street. Didn’t the driver see him? Heaven should have blinded him for it. I have been faithful to the Lord all my life. Why did He take away my son? And do it with a cart carrying a likeness of His own son? Was it some horrible joke? What have I done to deserve this?”

John heard a choking sob. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Archdeacon Palamos standing a few paces behind him. He turned back to Timothy. “Yes, we understand that. But why did you attack Opimius?”

“I saw him talking to Hypatius here in the church…admiring that blasphemous piece…so I thought he must also be connected with it…”

“But in attacking Opimius you ended up killing a devout old servant trying to protect his master.”

“A master so arrogant…he went about with only a tottering old slave…for a guard! He’d still be alive…if he hadn’t fought so hard…I ran off and hid in my perfume shop after stabbing him…it’s in the Augustaion…very close to the alley by Samsun’s Hospice….” Timothy’s voice was fading. “But the old man should not have died…I have prayed for the Lord’s forgiveness…”

“You think your Lord will forgive you for snuffing out the lives of five people?” John said quietly.

“No, not five…I did not mean to kill the old man…so his death does not count.” Timothy’s eyes glistened. “I was only given time to kill four…four for a boy. Yet forty or four hundred…would not have been enough!” Anger made his voice stronger. “And there were others waiting to die too…that drunken physician at the hospice…said he could do nothing for my son…didn’t even try…”

“His Lord may not be very ready to forgive,” Felix observed quietly to John, “for it’s always possible that Timothy will live to see the inside of the emperor’s dungeons.”

“And so will both of you.”

John looked around. The Gourd loomed behind them, sword at the ready, several of his men at his back.

The Gourd inclined his massive head in John’s direction. “Or will you survive? There’s blood soaking through your tunic, I see, John. Been fighting, have you? What does heaven have in store for you, I wonder? I suppose heaven does as it pleases, but since we are not in heaven, what would please me most?”

“Halt!”

A man in full military regalia strode into the vestibule.

“Mithra,” breathed Felix. “It’s the captain of the excubitors!”

The captain, his face a mask of contempt, came to a stop before the Gourd. “By order of Justinian, I place you, Prefect Theodotus, under arrest!” he declared. “Arrest him, Felix!”

Felix grinned and clapped his big hand on the Gourd’s shoulder. “With pleasure!”

Epilogue

John and Felix watched as workers finished unloading a cartload of marble busts and commemorative diptychs, and heaped them haphazardly under a portico before rumbling off.

Felix surveyed the large pile of castoff public monuments. “It looks as if Emperor Justin is thinking of doing some redecoration.”

The obscure square they were crossing had been used for years as a repository for discarded statuary. An eerie crowd of motionless dignitaries surrounded them.

“Look.” John paused to read an inscription chiseled next to the foot of a man dressed in military garb. “It’s Vitalian.”

Felix shivered. “Is this cold ever going to leave? Even the sun doesn’t seem inclined to celebrate Justinian’s sudden recovery.”

“Unfortunately the weather doesn’t pay much attention to what we’d like.”

“Rather like Fortuna.”

“She has been good to us on occasion.” John looked toward the building forming one side of the square. Over its portico sat a statue of Hermes. A few bits of peeling gilt on the Hermes glinted in the thin light.

“Fortuna’s ways are often strange, Felix. What if Timothy had not murdered Victor’s father? If he hadn’t, Victor wouldn’t have been on hand to save my life. I owe my continued existence to another’s untimely death.”

“And if the Gourd’s thugs had succeeded in killing you, who knows how many more victims Timothy would have dispatched before he was caught? I wonder who I would have been working with if you had died.”

“The Gourd wanted both of us out of the way. Didn’t he order both of us to wait out in the cold all night for a riot that was not going to happen, and then send those assassins to attack us when we were exhausted from lack of sleep?”

“You think that was why they waited until dawn? I thought perhaps they failed to notice us behind that pile of debris. Do you think the Gourd was planning to take over by force of arms when Justin died?”

“It’s happened before, and it probably will again,” John replied. “Come to think of it, we’re fortunate the murderous grocer didn’t put his blade in our backs since he followed us more than once. No wonder you kept thinking someone was watching us. Timothy was interested in us only because his assistant told him we’d been asking about Hypatius. If he had concluded we were connected with the sculpture in some way, I suspect one or both of us might not be here.”

Felix scratched his chin. “John, I admit I couldn’t understand why Justinian had chosen a—pardon me—a slave to undertake such a delicate investigation. Now I see he gave you the task because of your discretion and intelligence. Then, too, your tutoring Lady Anna in Persian presented a wonderful opportunity for him, since it meant that he already had someone in Opimius’ household to act as a spy, however unwilling.”

“We both better use our intelligence and be exceedingly discreet, Felix. It’s been made very plain to me that any knowledge of this investigation reaching other ears will have swift and terrible repercussions not only for us, but also for Anna and her father. I was also informed that we shouldn’t allow ourselves to think the services we rendered our masters will protect us in future either.”

John looked at Vitalian’s marble twin again. “Since Opimius is pagan,” he went on, “I wonder if he thought it a wise move to align himself with Vitalian, a man known and admired for his orthodoxy?”

“It turned out to be a bad alliance,” Felix observed. “But Opimius is nothing if not shrewd. I was on duty when that delegation of senators arrived to present their petition to Justin. It was signed by every single member of the Senate and Opimius and Aurelius formally presented it to the emperor. Justin understood right away when he saw those two advancing toward him together, practically arm in arm.”

Felix scowled at the memory. “To formally petition an emperor to agree to share his throne with an impatient upstart, even if that upstart is his nephew…to demand that an emperor give up power…I wish I hadn’t been witness to such a spectacle. If those senators had had the courage to attempt a proper coup I would have enjoyed putting my sword in every one of them. Unfortunately, it was all legal.”

His scowl grew more pronounced. “Yes,” he went on, “Quaestor Proclus glanced over the petition and explained it to the emperor as if he already knew its contents, which I’d wager he did. It’s a sorry thing to see men disgrace themselves, and none worse than Opimius. After all, he abandoned his principles, and in supporting Justinian has betrayed Justin, a man to whom he had proclaimed loyalty.”

“I think Opimius was acting more out of loyalty toward his daughter,” John replied. “He abandoned his principles rather than Anna. What would have become of her if her father had been arrested and executed for opposing Justinian? Everything the senator owned would no doubt have been forfeited. Anna would have been left not only fatherless, but destitute and homeless as well.”

He paused. “And speaking of shrewd senators, when Senator Aurelius suggested in front of his friend Opimius that I interview Tryphon and Trenico, he was as much as anything giving Opimius a clear warning. I’m certain he had spoken about it to him privately, but perhaps he felt it would be more persuasive to place two of the other conspirators under direct suspicion. You know, Felix, I would not be at all surprised to discover that Aurelius were pagan also. That would explain the close friendship between him and Opimius, despite their political differences. Our faith binds us strongly together.”

“You are back in Opimius’ good graces, I suppose. Are you tutoring Lady Anna again?”

John shook his head. “It is best I not see her just yet. I did speak to the senator in private, but our conversation was brief since Aurelius and Anatolius arrived. Somehow the tale of my flight from Avis’ tower has got around, and in its travels become much exaggerated. Apparently I was halfway up the Bosporos before I fell out of the sky.”

Felix chuckled. “I’ll wager young Anatolius was thrilled to hear that story.”

“He looked very disappointed when I explained I’d left the wings in pieces on the docks. Then he asked his father to make certain that Avis had a few coins now and then to continue the project.”

“That’s not very likely to happen, is it?” Felix observed. “Aurelius must be thanking whatever gods he worships that it was you who first tried out those wings, and not his son.”

“It is strange, Felix,” said John. “Consider that here there were two sons, both of them only children. One would think Fortuna had bestowed enough favor on Anatolius, making his a prosperous family when so many others are destitute. Yet he was saved from certain death the night he decided to join the Blues, while that poor grocer’s boy died playing in the gutter.” Felix said nothing. He glanced uneasily at the statue of Vitalian and then resumed walking.

“Lady Anna must have gone to her father immediately,” he said. “Once she relayed the warning you gave her, he wasted no time in throwing his support into Justinian’s camp. Now Justinian has recovered, and frankly I begin to wonder if he was half as ill as was reported. He’s been just as swift in removing the Gourd from office. The question is will anyone believe Justinian’s claims that the Gourd has been poisoning him? With all those guards around him, not to mention Theodora constantly at his side, how could the Gourd possibly have managed it?”

“True or not, the Gourd cut his own throat by persuading everyone he was able to perform magick,” John observed with a wry smile. “You can do all sorts of impossible things with magick. Besides, Justinian’s accusation is all the proof any court of law can afford to consider.”

They had reached the building overseen by the leprous Hermes. Felix gazed back uneasily over the frozen throng populating the square. “There’s something strange about seeing all those statues crowding about in public as if they’re about to start rioting. Speaking of which, the superstitious are already spinning tales about how that statue of Christ miraculously punished Timothy.”

He frowned and went on. “As to Justin, in the end he was rather relieved by the senators’ suggestion that he and Justinian co-rule. It would certainly lift some of the burden from his shoulders, so he will be considering it, or so he was muttering to Euphemia this very morning. Yet still I feel I have somehow failed him. I don’t know why.”

“Justinian considers we have both aided him, and it’s his opinion which matters now.”

Felix looked thoughtful. “Do you realize Justinian has reason to be doubly grateful to you? First, you disarmed those opposing him by uncovering the real murderer of Hypatius and making it impossible for them to use his death against Justinian in some way or another. Then, on top of that, you were instrumental in persuading Opimius, the leader of the conspiracy, of the wisdom of publicly declaring himself one of Justinian’s staunchest supporters for reasons we will never see made public.”

A wry grin crossed the excubitor’s face. “Not that Theodora will thank either of us for any of our efforts,” he continued. “I have a strong suspicion she does not enjoy the notion of Justinian being grateful to anyone except her. If he was, such people might well have some influence with him and she’s the sort who cannot tolerate even the thought of any such possibility. Still, aside from that, it’s all been tied up very neatly.”

“There is one matter still left unfinished.”

Felix gave John a questioning look.

John’s fist smashed into the excubitor’s jaw, sending him to the ground. He looked up at John, his expression more bewildered than angry.

“Don’t you recall what you said outside Isis’ house?” John asked. “‘Watch your tongue, slave, or I’ll give you a thrashing you won’t soon forget.’ Those were your exact words. Were you too intoxicated to remember? A man can’t allow himself to be insulted in such a manner, but a slave has no choice. A slave does not dare retaliate. There can be no real friendship between a man and a slave.”

John extended his hand. Felix took it warily and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. He rubbed his jaw, frowning.

Then he grinned widely.

“I see you’ve guessed, my friend,” John said. “As a reward for my services, Justinian has granted me my freedom.”

Felix’s shout of joy disturbed several seagulls rooting among the gutter debris. They rose, squawking with indignation, into the slate gray sky.