Mary Reed - Nine for the Devil

As John approached, Germanus grinned, displaying square ivory-hued teeth. The big men surrounding him did not grin. They stared. Scarred fists tightened on spears and swords.

“Lord Chamberlain! I’ve been expecting you. The palace is buzzing over your inquiries and I know some busy bees have aimed their stingers at me. The question is, who sent you?”

“You’ll understand I can’t answer that, general.”

Germanus’ grin broadened. “Not that it matters. I can guess.” He glanced around at his scowling bodyguards. “You will understand why my men are surly and wary. There are those who can’t believe I intend to wait my turn to take the throne and just might want to stop me from doing so.”

“It’s common knowledge Justinian intends you to succeed him, even though he did not make it official while Theodora was alive.”

“Considering her hatred for me and my family, can we be surprised? You’ll doubtless agree I wouldn’t have any reason to kill Theodora. She might influence the emperor while he’s alive but she could hardly influence him to deny me the throne when he was dead.”

“She might have convinced him to anoint a new heir before he died.”

Germanus laughed. “I wasn’t looking that far ahead. It doesn’t matter now. I’m happy for my whole family, Lord Chamberlain. My daughter Justina and her husband can return to Constantinople. They’ve been living on one of my estates in Bithynia, near the hot springs. My son-in-law feared for his life when it was rumored Theodora ordered Antonina to have him killed merely for marrying against her imperial wishes.”

“Was there any particular reason Theodora objected to the marriage?”

“Spite, Lord Chamberlain. That was all. My sons still aren’t married. Justina defied her. She was eighteen. How much longer could she wait?”

Theodora had a penchant for interfering with marriages. John wondered if Cornelia was right, that interference in personal relationships was more likely to result in retaliation than political, religious, or financial meddling. When power or money was at stake people acted with a clear view of Theodora’s enormous power. When the issue was personal, passions reigned.

He was reminded of Europa, who had never been far from his mind lately. It irked him to have to remain in the city, chasing shadows, when he should be beside his daughter.

Germanus strolled away from the bronze Hercules and his retinue flowed with him. John remained at his side.

The gallery featured a mismatched collection of bronze figures: pagan gods, philosophers, military men, anonymous Greeks who had been famous enough to immortalize in a long distant era.

“It’s not as impressive as when I was a boy,” Germanus said. “Before the mob burned the baths down during the Nika riots, there were some magnificent works here.”

“I remember.”

“One day the whole imperial school was herded over here to hear Christodorus perform his poem about the statues. A tiny, shriveled-up Egyptian with lungs like one of Justinian’s heralds. He took us from statue to statue, thundering out his descriptions of each. The bronze was silent. He kept telling us that. Then he would help the mute bronze out by imagining what Homer or Sappho or Apollo was thinking. As if he had any way of knowing. We would have been just as happy if he was silent. We were only interested in the heroes, or at least the boys were. Pretending to battle Achilles. Hiding behind Ulysses.”

It was hard to imagine the burly, dark-bearded man as a child. It was easier to imagine him battling Achilles. He differed from his imperial cousin in that he was actually a military man. He had fought on the battlefield, had his horse killed under him on one occasion, and nearly died himself. A true soldier emperor in the Roman tradition.

“It was not the educational experience your tutors desired,” John observed.

“No, but I’m certain Christodorus received a fee. Poets have to earn a living somehow.” Germanus stopped in front of a bronze Aphrodite. “This is the only statue rescued from the ruins, and not entirely intact. Years after that performance I looked the verse up. ‘Her breasts were bare but her robes were gathered around her rounded thighs.’ A true enough description, but now she has only a single breast. The goddess of love turned into an Amazon warrior!”

The restorers had done their best to repair the statue. Perhaps they had honestly mistaken her for an Amazon.

Germanus’ smile faded for the first time. He ran a hand over his cropped beard. “Such genius and centuries of art annihilated in a day by the ignorant rabble, all of whom together could not create even the kerchief that binds Aphrodite’s hair. There is no justice in the world, Lord Chamberlain.”

“There is a little justice in the world, Germanus.”

The general’s hulking guards shifted their grips on their weapons, shuffled their feet, looking bored. They appeared to John the type of men who would not be fully engaged by anything except violence.

Germanus smiled again. “I have fought my whole life to gain justice for my family. Here I am, descended from a royal line, and myself and my children are told to stand aside for whores and bastards bred from a bear keeper.”

“But no longer.”

“No. However, don’t think I’m only concerned with justice for myself…” He trailed off abruptly. “Lord Chamberlain, every single person you approach will single out an enemy as a potential suspect. Therefore I wish to stress Artabanes isn’t my enemy.”

“General Artabanes?”

“A fine commander. The opposite of his predecessor. Justinian should never have sent Areobindus to Libya. He was a senator, not a military man. And a coward to boot. I’m sure you know the story.”

John did indeed. Areobindus had surrendered himself and his wife Praejecta to the rebels. Artabanes arrived, restored order, and rescued Praejecta, but not before Areobindus had been assassinated.

“Are you telling me Artabanes acted against Theodora?”

Germanus’ thick lips tightened. “As good as, Lord Chamberlain. A month ago he visited me at my house, supposedly to discuss the situation in Libya. But before long the conversation turned to the imperial couple. They were both worthless in his opinion. He claimed he wasn’t alone in saying so. On the other hand, I was as close a relative to the old emperor Justin as Justinian, and more fit to rule being a military man and not a self-styled theologian, a soft fellow who took orders from his wife. If only I had been older at the time of Justin’s death, and so on.”

John pointed out such talk was tantamount to treason.

“That’s what I told him. But he took no notice. He said he knew I was a fair-minded man. Everyone knew I was fair-minded. Otherwise some treacherous senators would have already begged me to put Justinian out of the way.”

“He wanted to gauge your interest in deposing Justinian?”

“What else? He told me Justinian didn’t even try to rule. He sat up all night without any guards, just decrepit old priests, studying the holy books. In effect he explained to me exactly when and where the emperor could be assassinated and how simple it would be.”

John looked around at the bodyguards. They gave no evidence of listening but had doubtless taken interest in the entire conversation. How might they feel about serving an emperor rather than a general?

“He hated Theodora even more,” Germanus continued. “He hated them both. Murdering her would be a blow against Justinian. It would weaken him.”

“People with grievances like to talk about revenge, even when they know they can’t take it.”

“In Libya, Artabanes personally stabbed a tyrant in the tyrant’s own banqueting hall. He’s a courageous man.”