Mary Reed: One for Sorrow

“I’ve never been skilled at identifying plants.”

“It is monkshood. I hope to see it reach its full growth one more time. My physician has been giving me a concoction of it for the pain. It makes me feel very cold. I think it numbs the soul as well as the body. The Greeks say the plant springs from the spittle of Cerberus. Were I a pagan I would expect to be seeing the beast soon. As it is…” The weak voice trailed off.

“As it is?” John prompted.

“I am afraid when my angel leads me up to heaven, the demon toll keepers on the way will charge me heavily for my sins. You are quite right, Lord Chamberlain. It was not the soothsayer who murdered my only son. It was I.”

It was obvious the patriarch was near death. Had he lost his mind as well? Or was it the effect of the medicine he was taking? John asked for an explanation.

“I murdered Leukos,” the patriarch repeated. “It was that vile soothsayer who wielded the dagger-who else? But it was I who placed Leukos in his path. I asked him to consult Ahasuerus on my behalf, to inquire about the Grail. What greater relic could I have acquired for my-for Justinian’s-new church?”

John recalled what the servant Euphemia had said about strangers bringing things to Leukos’ house late at night. “It wasn’t the first time Leukos had rendered such services, was it?”

“He blessed the city with more than one sacred relic. Sellers of costly goods sometimes acquire other sorts of treasures and Leukos was in a position to know when such valuables became available.”

“How did you know the soothsayer purported to possess such a relic?”

“Rumors he had it in his possession reached me. There was also an adventurer in pursuit of the Grail.”

“Is that why you had Ahasuerus escorted away from the Inn of the Centaurs in the middle of the night? You were afraid the adventurer, or let us name him, Thomas, would purchase the relic before you could?”

“The soothsayer and I negotiated a fair price. Then he left.”

“And went straight for the docks to take ship. He didn’t have to be prescient to realize you might not want to risk anyone finding out you had purchased this supposed holy relic from a fortune-teller.”

The patriarch rubbed his eyes. “It was a misunderstanding. My guards were instructed to see he was sent safely out of the city. It appears he panicked and threw himself into the sea.”

John supposed there was no way he would know whether that was the truth or not. He noted Epiphanios had not explained who had told him the soothsayer owned daggers identical to the one found in Leukos’ body.

The patriarch stared down at the sundial. “Did you know this relic is said to be a heal-all?”

“So I have heard.”

The patriarch’s eyes looked glassy in the thin light filtering out of the cloudy sky. John could not tell whether it was the sheen of tears or the effect of physicians’ concoctions.

“My son died because I was so afraid of death that I grasped at a chance to preserve my own life.” A quaver had entered the patriarch’s voice. He smiled wanly. “You realize I am only telling you this because I am a dead man, Lord Chamberlain?”

“And the Grail?”

The patriarch reached inside his robe and produced a jewel-encrusted box.

“Come closer, Lord Chamberlain.”

John stepped forward.

The patriarch’s hands trembled as he opened the lid of the box. “The Grail,” he breathed. “It cost me dearly but now the most holy relic in Christendom will reside for all eternity in the empire’s greatest church. Perhaps now I will be forgiven for all my sins.”

John stared down into the box.

Inside lay a round stone, green, flecked with red, perhaps three times the size of the stones Ahasuerus had given his clients, but otherwise identical.

Peter disliked sharing his kitchen so he was doubly distressed to have both Felix and Anatolius crowding him as he cooked. Thankfully, Felix did not seem inclined to stay long.

“I had hoped to find John home,” he was saying. “I wanted to thank him for his assistance the other night.”

“You look grim enough to be on your way to the wars, Felix,” observed Anatolius.

Felix grunted. “I’ve had a lot on my mind and some hard decisions to make. And what about you? Since when does a scribe arm himself?” He indicated the scabbard at Anatolius’ hip.

“Since I achieved the rank of Soldier.”

“Well, it might impress the ladies more than your poetry. It’s a pity you can’t say anything about it!”

“It is hardly an affectation, Felix. There seems to be more then the usual amount of danger about recently.”

Peter noisily stirred the pot on the brazier. He was of the opinion that in Anatolius’ unskilled hands the sword would be about as useful as Peter’s iron spoon.

Anatolius inquired about the bundle Felix carried.

“Isis gave me some mementos of Berta. Jewelry. I did keep a bracelet I’d given her, but the rest, who knows where or who they came from? I don’t want to think about it. I know a merchant who deals in such things, who’ll give me a good price. Enough to cover the cost of Berta’s funeral.”

“Then you know a merchant I don’t. Could I take a look?”

Felix undid his bundle and laid out its contents on the table. Peter frowned, wishing the two would leave. Nevertheless he glanced over his shoulder at the jewelry.

“Your Berta favored green,” Anatolius said. “I know a lady these could adorn, and I wager I can give you a much better price than your merchant.”

“All right. I’ll leave the jewelry for you to look over. Now I need to be off to attend to other business.”

“Of an official nature?”

Felix stamped out without answering.

“Am I the only one in my right senses?” Anatolius exclaimed. “John’s looking for a murderer already dead. And there’s Thomas with his foolish quest.”

Peter muttered under his breath. Anatolius had been in his way for an hour while supposedly waiting for John. In reality, Peter guessed, the young man was hoping Europa would emerge from her bedroom.

“What do you think of the so-called knight, Peter?”

The servant stirred the boiling mixture in the pot hard enough to slop a few drops over its side. They hissed on the charcoal in the brazier. “It isn’t for a servant to comment on his master’s associates.”

“You don’t trust Thomas, do you?”

Peter had disliked Thomas at first sight, although he couldn’t have said why. “The master is a better judge of character than I am,” was all he said.

“Sometimes John’s too intelligent for his own good. He can’t see what’s right in front of his face.” Anatolius tapped his fingers on the table. “Why can’t he see through the man? Thomas has been behaving suspiciously ever since he showed up. Now, consider this, Peter. He’s staying at the Inn of the Centaurs, which is also where Leukos, like me, visited the soothsayer. The soothsayer’s dagger was used to murder Leukos. But couldn’t Thomas have stolen it, followed Leukos to the alley, and then killed him?”

“I admit I don’t like the man Thomas, but I do not see him as a murderer,” Peter responded. He did not add that he thought Anatolius’ opinion was colored by the attention Thomas was paying to Europa.

Anatolius banged his fist on the table. “I must confront him! If John won’t, then I must. In fact, I shall go around to the inn right now and demand to see Thomas immediately.”

He leapt from his chair and bolted from the kitchen, leaving the jewelry on the table. Peter shook his head at the impetuosity of youth. As he added boiled fish to the sauce, he wondered if Thomas would even be at the inn. For Anatolius’ sake, he hoped not. Putting the thought aside, he turned his mind to matters of more immediate concern, and tasted the sauced fish. It might be possible to make a passable dinner after all. If John ever returned and if the women ever emerged from their rooms. A little more oregano, perhaps?