Mary Reed: Nine for the Devil

“Unfortunately she was dismissed from the palace following her mistress’ death. However, she will be quickly found to pay for her part in the monstrous crime.”

“She is accused of conspiracy with Anatolius?” John asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Narses said. “It’s plain from her possession of this handwritten poem that she knows Anatolius. Given the man’s well-known proclivities, it seems certain they were having an affair. It is obvious he must have given her the poison, knowing she had access to the empress.”

Justinian lowered his voice to an icy hiss. “Theodora took that vile creature, a former prostitute, and elevated her to a position of trust as one of her own ladies-in-waiting. And see how she was repaid for her kindness, for her faith in humanity.”

“Shall I seek the girl out?”

“Do nothing further in this matter, Lord Chamberlain,” Justinian’s voice was cold as death. “I set you the task of finding a murderer. Was it so difficult to find that the culprit was Theodora’s lady-in-waiting, the one person who saw Theodora most often while she was ill? Leave me, Lord Chamberlain. If I require your services, I will summon you.”

John was hardly aware of leaving the reception hall. His feet carried him out to the dark palace grounds while his thoughts leapt this way and that.

Dismissed by the emperor, surely he was free to go after Cornelia?

He could gallop off to Zeno’s estate.

And yet why should she disappear? The only reason he could think of was because of something transpiring in the city.

Something connected with Theodora’s death and John’s futile investigations.

Besides which, by the time John reached the estate, Anatolius would have become another victim of Justinian’s unfocused rage, as dead as Theodora’s cook, the guards outside the room where Theodora had died, her physician Gaius…

Before he realized it John had strode through the Chalke Gate and was on his way to Anatolius’ house.

He fixed his mind on his friend’s peril. A disinterested magistrate might indeed find Anatolius guilty of arranging Theodora’s death. Judging from the poem found in Kuria’s room, he had been secretly involved with one of those nearest to the empress, a trusted lady-in-waiting who could have easily administered poison. He had also advised the Cappadocian, who gave every indication of plotting with General Germanus. What reward might a lawyer expect upon Germanus’ accession to power, now or later? He might well be appointed Quaestor-the emperor’s legal advisor-or be elevated to some other position in the consistory.

Lord Chamberlain, perhaps.

Wasn’t this the very sort of connection John had been seeking? A person with much to gain who could reach Theodora through one of those close to her?

Yet facts and logic could not instantly overcome years of close friendship.

Bits of colored glass could be put together one way to form a picture of a demon, whereas in a different combination they might show an angel instead.

Excubitors stood guard at the narrow way leading to Anatolius’ house and at its gate. The few passers-by who hurried through the torch-lit darkness took little notice of the situation and in many cases quickened their steps, anxious to leave the area before they became unwillingly involved in the trouble obviously roosting on the house roof.

John was admitted to the courtyard. A group of frightened servants huddled together outside the house. As John arrived, Felix stepped from the doorway. His fierce scowl deepened on seeing John.

With a slight warning nod toward the guards he drew John through the gate out their earshot and growled, “You’re too late to warn him, my friend. He’s gone.”

“Thank Mithra for that! He wasn’t at home when you arrived?”

“He was, but unfortunately my men were not exactly discreet as they approached.” Felix gave a brief smile. “He must have heard us coming and managed to escape from the back.”

It occurred to John that Felix was equally involved with Germanus and the Cappadocian, so he had every reason to allow Anatolius-possibly a co-conspirator-to slip away, quite apart from their friendship.

“No guards were posted at the back of the house?”

“An oversight, I am afraid, Lord Chamberlain,” Felix replied with a wink. “We’ll find him before too long.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I’ll arrange search parties, but first I must question the servants.”

“Your procrastination will cause you trouble later on, Felix.”

Felix shrugged. “Personally, I don’t believe Anatolius has anything to do with your investigation. Any more than I do. In fact, I-”

He bit off his words as a man dressed in clothing announcing his trade to be that of a laborer approached them.

“Yes?” Felix barked at the new arrival.

“I saw a man running away from here, sirs. I work in the Copper Quarter and I was passing behind the back of the house on my way to-”

“Never mind your life story! What about this man you say you saw?” Felix interrupted.

“He was in such a hurry I thought perhaps he had been caught thieving. Then I realized he was well-dressed and the well-dressed never run about, do they, sirs? They always have servants to do that for them. Anyhow, it looked so strange I followed him to see where he was going, so I could come back to tell the owner of the house. But seeing the guards I thought it best to report to you first.”

“Well?” Felix demanded.

“He ran into the Great Church. Is there a reward for telling you where he is, sirs?”

Entering the light-filled building, John stood under a many-pillared gallery and glanced around the huge space under the soaring, many-windowed dome. Light from lamps suspended from the ceiling, set in wall niches, and on tripods, touched the silver seats used by priests and the gold and gem encrusted altar set with richly-decorated sacred vessels. Columns of polished green and white and purple marble pointed colorful fingers to glowing mosaics overhead.

John did not see Anatolius.

Those who sought sanctuary-which surely was Anatolius’ intention-often placed themselves beside the baptismal font.

He returned to the narthex and strode quickly along a wide corridor, his boots slapping noisily on the floor’s enormous polished marble slabs. At the end of the corridor he passed through the Vestibule of the Warriors, where guards were stationed when the emperor was in attendance inside the church. Felix had positioned a number of his excubitors there to prevent Anatolius from slipping away into the night.

The baptistery sat just beyond the vestibule’s exit.

John stepped into the high-domed octagonal room. Lamplight sparkled on jeweled crosses adorning the outer sides of the font. Waist high and the length of two men, it had been carved from a solid block of marble.

John spotted Anatolius sitting halfway down the steps descending into the basin. He hunkered down at the top of the steps. “Is this what we’ve come to, Anatolius? A Mithran seeking Christian sanctuary?”

“What could I do, rush to the palace and hide in the mithraeum? I doubt I’ll be safe here for long.”

“Felix has the church surrounded but he won’t drag you out. He takes his orders from Justinian, and the emperor respects the sanctity of churches.” He didn’t add Felix was even more likely to respect Anatolius’ taking refuge at the font, since the excubitor captain might himself be baptized in it before long.

The thought reminded John of Peter’s plea that he accept the Christian god. He could not imagine immersing himself in the enormous font, as if he were stepping into a bath at the Zeuxippos. What a pathetic way to acknowledge allegiance to a god.