Mary Reed: Seven for a Secret

“I see he’s not one of those holy men who braves the elements day and night,” Anatolius continued. “I thought suffering was part of the job. No wonder his column is in this out of the way corner.”

The stylite’s hooded acolyte had set baskets at the base of the pillar. No pilgrims had come by yet to drop offerings into them.

John and Anatolius had been waiting since before dawn. In the interim John had remained almost as still as the stylite, while Anatolius paced back and forth.

At first, John had been on edge. A ghostly swirl of mist or a shout carried from the docks on the early morning breeze made his heart race. Was it in anticipation of an ambush or simply of meeting Zoe and learning whatever it was she needed to tell him?

The woman who had so urgently requested an irregular audience with the Lord Chamberlain never appeared.

“I don’t want to interfere with your work, Anatolius,” John finally said. “Your clients will be waiting.”

John’s friend was a few years his junior, almost as slender, not quite as tall. He had a face Greek sculptors would have loved to model, and more than a few ladies of the imperial court who didn’t know Polyclitus from Praxiteles shared their enthusiasm.

“I do have an appointment this morning,” Anatolius admitted. “I’m finding people like the notion of hiring the emperor’s former secretary to speak for them. The merchant I’m seeing today apparently thinks that if I could put a good face on Justinian’s confiscatory proclamations-as he put it-I can surely turn the shipload of spoiled wine he sold into nectar. Spoiled, that is to say, according to the buyer. I don’t like to leave you alone.”

John scanned the square again. Merchants who dealt in quantities smaller than shiploads were opening their shops. An iron grating rose with an ear-splitting screech, letting loose the odor of yesterday’s fish.

Nearer the palace the fragrances of spices or perfumes wafting from the doorways of better class emporiums alleviated the city’s usual stench of decayed rubbish and animal droppings. In the Copper Market with its metal works, the other pervasive smell was that of acrid smoke.

A black dog slunk by and paused to sniff a cucumber crushed beneath a cart wheel.

At this point any sense of peril had been borne off with the mists by the light of day.

“I did not suppose I would be in danger in the first place, Anatolius. Besides, it’s a lengthy walk back.”

Anatolius gazed in the general direction of the Great Palace. “We’d have been better off if we waited at your doorway, in case Zoe came out! If you make these morning strolls any longer you’ll find yourself neck deep in the Golden Horn!”

“You can be certain I’ll stop a safe distance from the shore.”

“A few weeks ago I would have been equally certain you’d never walk into a trap set by a stranger who approached on the street!”

“We have not been attacked.”

“Of course not. The ruffians weren’t prepared to deal with two men.”

John pointed out that the woman might have returned if Anatolius had remained discreetly in the nearby alleyway as requested.

“I’ve already explained why I rushed out, John. I thought I saw something moving in your direction in the dark.”

John’s lips tightened into a thin smile. “I believe I could adequately defend myself against a three-legged cat. You should try not to become agitated so easily. It’s a trait that won’t serve you well before the magistrates.”

“It seems to me you’ve been uncharacteristically agitated lately. How can you tell me you feel crowded in that enormous house with no one else there but Cornelia and a servant, anyway? I wish I hadn’t suggested Europa and Thomas move to my Uncle Zeno’s estate. Cornelia would probably be glad of their help. She told me she was planning to redecorate a few rooms.”

John frowned. “I can arrange for any craftsmen needed, and frankly I’m happier with my daughter and her husband away from the palace. A Lord Chamberlain will always have enemies at court, and they’ll use any weapon they can find.”

Anatolius glanced around. “I suspect this square rarely bustles with activity, but there are people stirring now. Are you going to insist on staying longer? Your enemies won’t necessarily confine themselves to harming your family, John.”

John acknowledged the truth of this statement.

“Just because she used the name Zoe means nothing,” Anatolius continued. “Everyone at court knows everyone else’s business even if we don’t come out and say so. Remember that poem I wrote about Theodora’s days on the stage? I only showed it to a few close friends. I swear by Mithra that the court pages were repeating the last verse before the ink was dry.”

“I saw the woman’s face, Anatolius. She was Zoe.”

“I admit the artisan made the child remarkably life-like but-”

“I’ve lived with that face for nearly ten years,” John cut in. “Yesterday morning I met the original. Grown now, of course, but she was unmistakable.”

“What about the tattoo? You said she had a tattoo on her wrist. You saw it when she pushed her veil aside. Now, you have to admit your mosaic Zoe doesn’t have a tattoo.”

John observed a child would not have a tattoo although a woman might, and that further he felt Anatolius was overreaching himself trying to find evidence against the possibility John had, in fact, by chance met the model for Zoe.

Anatolius shook his head. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were smitten with the woman. We should’ve arrived here with a contingent of excubitors ready to scour the streets, find the scoundrels who are behind this, and cart them off to the dungeons. Whatever their game is, I’d wager it’s a crime, or would’ve been if-”

John held up a hand. “Wait, Anatolius.”

A veiled woman in black robes moved toward them. She was only a few steps away. John cursed himself for allowing his attention to lapse.

When the woman reached the two men, she bowed slightly.

“Kindest excellencies! We are seeking to purchase a plaque for the Church of the Mother of God. It will be engraved with words to remind us of our beloved Empress Theodora’s beneficence.”

John produced several coins and dropped them into the woman’s smooth hand.

She turned her head toward Anatolius. When he offered only a glare, she scurried away.

Anatolius stared after her in undisguised consternation. “What are you thinking about, John? That was nothing but a common street whore!”

“I could see that. It’s not to say she doesn’t need a few coins more than I do. Besides, how do you know she isn’t one of Theodora’s collection of reformed prostitutes? Your new profession is already turning you into a cynic, my friend!”

“That may be,” Anatolius admitted. “But it’s safer being a cynic. I’m not so sure all those prostitutes wanted to be reformed. They just wanted the free lodgings the empress was offering. Anyway, it’s plain your mysterious woman isn’t going to appear. Let’s hope it was nothing more than a jest by some fool at court.”

He looked around. “Yes, probably that’s all it was. Someone in the palace playing a joke on the ever serious and imperturbable Lord Chamberlain. Doubtless, some rascals are sniggering about it right now. I have to be off. Don’t waste much more time on this, John. There’s nothing to it, but if you stand here long enough you’re liable to attract trouble, especially after displaying a handful of coins.”

Anatolius paused at the mouth of the street and looked back into the square he had just left.

John remained standing at the base of the stylite’s column.