Mary Reed - Nine for the Devil

“If people can believe that Justinian is the King of the Demons I suppose they can believe anything.”

Gaius rose, lumbered to his medicine shelf, and refilled his jar. When he sat down again John saw Gaius’ hands were shaking. “You can’t imagine the torture, John. There were times she would scream until her voice gave out. Dying men on the battlefield roar in agony but their lives bleed away quickly. This disease goes on and on.” He took a long drink, swallowed hard. “You question me about poisons, but supposing an enemy wanted to poison her? How could it have been done?”

“You know better than I do, Gaius. The method of administering poison might point to the murderer. What methods might you suggest?”

“There are only so many ways poison could be administered, and I can’t see any of them applying in this case. Some methods I’ve heard about are simply ludicrous and wouldn’t work. My favorite is smearing one side of a knife with poison so the meat cut by the contaminated edge is fatal but not that touched by the other side. If that was possible we’d all use our personal blades to cut our meat, but then what if the entire dish was poisoned? Even so, Theodora did not partake of solid food in the last week, not even mashed fruit and she was very fond of that.”

John recalled the fruit Vesta had brought to the sickroom. But the two ladies-in-waiting had eaten it, and they showed no signs of poisoning. Still, it was a possibility. “Could a slow-acting poison be introduced into fruit?”

“There are ways,” Gaius admitted. “A tiny hole in an apple can reveal either the presence of a worm, careless handling, or the presence of poison. I’ve heard of melons being put in a poison bath so they absorb the noxious substance, but that sounds highly improbable to me. And poisoned weapons are all very well but would be impossible to get into that sickroom, what with the guards and attendants and Justinian there all the time. He hardly left her side.”

“Do the imperial couple take antidotes regularly?”

“You’re thinking of mithridatum, aren’t you? Oh yes, that complicated concoction is an imperial tradition, ever since the formula was brought back to Rome. Fifty-four different ingredients, some in minuscule quantities.”

“Is it effective?”

Gaius shrugged. “Pliny said that it was a monstrous system of puffing up the medical art and I tend to agree. However, Justinian is convinced he’s been poisoned endlessly in the natural course of events, and since he has not died then the mithridatum must be effective.”

“Except in Theodora’s case.”

“Yes. I suppose that’s what he thinks.” Gaius’ pouched eyes narrowed and his broad face reddened to match the color of his bulbous nose. “Unless he suddenly concludes I used the wrong formula, forgot the rhubarb or acacia juice, or didn’t prescribe enough, or did so at the wrong intervals. In which case, Mithra help me.”

“You said she might have taken medications prepared by someone other than yourself?”

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t. Antonina used to make cosmetics for Theodora. I think she had resumed as a gesture of friendship. Not that Theodora had any use for cosmetics in her state. She may have prepared and sent painkillers. The ladies-in-waiting used to bring gifts for the empress from various people. It wasn’t any business of mine.”

Gaius took another gulp of wine. He licked his lips nervously.

“You couldn’t dictate what was brought into Theodora’s room, Gaius. No one would expect it of you. Others spent much more time with her than you did.”

“Yes, I hope Justinian sees it that way. It’s very foolish accepting preparations from people not trained as physicians. Mistakes are easy to make and beyond that, how do they know the person preparing something to be taken or applied hasn’t been bribed to poison it? Anyone can obtain poison. It’s possible to grow deadly plants anywhere. I have a few in my herb garden here on the palace grounds. I grow them to supply material for the preparations I prescribe. Some plants are like Janus, two-faced. The same ones can be used for good or ill, to kill or cure.”

“Indeed.”

“Take belladonna, for example. A tiny amount will bring about death, yet it’s useful for treating headaches and women’s problems. Or how about henbane? A very good painkiller if used in appropriate fashion, but otherwise a person taking too much will soon be beyond the reach of bodily pangs. By all means imbibe a quantity of hemlock if you want to leave the world, yet I also prescribe it to treat disorders of the skin.”

“Your garden is accessible to anyone who cared to visit at night to gather certain plants in secret,” John observed.

“Yes, it is. Hypatia tends to it. She occasionally makes herbal preparations for me, so she too may well come under suspicion. It’s probably best she’s under your protection, so far as any of us can protect anyone or ourselves.”

John had not considered Hypatia might also be in danger. Was there anyone in the city who was not, one way or another? He scanned the room. “A poisoner wouldn’t necessarily have to be an herbalist,” he pointed out. “He could steal whatever he needed from your shelves “

“True,” Gaius set down his jar. His hand trembled uncontrollably. “And just about everything here could be fatal given in the wrong amount.”

“Including your cure for anxiety about the fate of the empire,” John tapped Gaius’ empty jar.

“Quite right, John. But can you blame me?”

There was a shouted order from the hallway.

“This way!”

Gaius leapt up at the loud thumping of what could only be several men wearing military boots running down the corridor.

An excubitor appeared in the doorway.

He continued past, followed by five others in a hurry.

As their footsteps receded John’s gaze turned to Gaius, and to the shelf upon which the physician’s hand rested. Gaius’ fingertips were almost touching a tiny green glass bottle.

John gave his friend a questioning look.

“For pain,” Gaius said.

“It’s poison, isn’t it?”

“To avoid the pain that can be inflicted by the imperial torturers. I am only too familiar with the unspeakable agony a human body can be made to feel. A devilish hand assisted in creating our flesh. No decent entity would have made it capable of experiencing such pain.”

Gaius sat down at the table. “Do you know the terror I’ve been going through? Remember, I had the knowledge and the opportunity to kill Theodora. I sit here and wait for excubitors to appear and pray they put a sword through me cleanly rather than dragging me down to the torturers. I keep my pain medication near me at all times. A very powerful poison. If they arrested me in this room it would be a corpse they’d be dragging outside.”

He reached for his jar of wine but John pushed it out of his reach.

“Try to stay calm, Gaius, and for Mithra’s sake, stay away from the wine. You need your wits. Excubitors are always racing about. You can’t be going into a panic every time you see an armed man coming in your direction. It’s the wine that takes your reason away.”

“But I am an obvious suspect and obvious suspects are being-”

“You had no reason to wish Theodora dead and every reason to want to keep her alive. How many years have you treated both the emperor and empress? You could have murdered either long ago. Justinian would have no reason to suspect you.”

“What reason did the emperor have to order the silversmith’s delivery boy thrown off the seawall this morning? Just because the poor child somehow blundered into the imperial quarters by accident.”

John got up as Gaius stood. The physician swayed slightly. His color had changed from red to chalky white. “You’ve started me thinking, John. All this talk about poisons, and who might have got poison into Theodora’s hands. I had not given it enough consideration. But clearly, Antonina has the skill, the personal connection. If Justinian wants a murderer I’d advise him to look in Antonina’s direction. She can concoct a poison as well as I can. Expose her as quickly as you can, John, before it’s too late for me.”