Mary Reed - Eight for Eternity

“I wouldn’t put my money on a few lines of gibberish scratched on a piece of rolled-up lead. I’ll wager on a driver with skill and brains. I was going to wager on this new man to win next time out but I hear he had an accident?”

“That’s right. A bad accident. Some Greens caught him a couple of nights ago and broke his legs. Those kinds of accidents are happening all the time. Last week someone tried to poison Porphyrius.”

“I’d like to meet one of your charioteers.”

The chubby worker looked dubious. “It might be arranged….” His dirty fingers closed over the coins John handed him. “Yes, you’ll want to talk to Junius. He’s checking chariots to make certain nobody has tampered with them. If you hurry, you’ll just catch him. You never know but what some Green has managed to bribe someone to do a little damage.”

John found Junius, a tall, lean man with sinewy arms, in a cavernous storage room filled with chariots. He and a short companion were examining the underside of a quadriga propped up against one of the many pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling. John paused for a moment, half concealed by another pillar.

“Axle and pins in place, pole well seated,” Junius said. “Perhaps that shadowy figure Porphyrius saw last night was a shade of the wine jug rather than the human sort.”

“And perhaps not.” The shorter man spun the left wheel. “Three spokes are partly sawn through from the inside. How long do you think the wheel would stay on once the race began?”

Junius uttered an oath. “Have it repaired and don’t let it out of your sight while you do. Isn’t there anything Porphyrius doesn’t see?”

The other shook his head. “He’s not human. Imagine anyone needing to sabotage the chariot of a graybeard like Porphyrius. He’s too old to be driving chariots, let alone winning.”

John stepped forward. “Junius?”

The charioteer didn’t appear surprised by the interruption, just annoyed. “What of it?”

“I wish to talk to you. In private.”

Junius laughed. “And a blade in the ribs in private too? You Greens must be desperate to think I’d fall for that.”

“I’m not from either faction. I’m here on behalf of the emperor.”

The wheel examiner guffawed. “A nomisma says otherwise, if I had a nomisma to wager!”

Junius stared at John for a heartbeat. “I’ll talk with this man,” he told his companion. “Leave us alone.”

“You look familiar,” Junius said, when his assistant had departed. “Haven’t I seen you in the imperial box at the races?”

“You have a keen eye. There are always a lot of people in the kathisma.”

“Few as tall. And you have the bearing of a military man. Very noticeable among all those perfumed flowers trying to brush up against Justinian’s robes. What do you want to know?”

“First, one of those perfumed flowers is a prominent courtier who owns horses in which the Blues may be interested. I can put you in touch with him. If the races continue. Justinian is considering closing them down forever.” He paused to let the statement sink in. “The emperor is not pleased with the factions. He’s been told that there’s talk of replacing him with one of Anastasius’ heirs.”

Junius pulled a rag from his belt and wiped grime off his hands. “You’ve been sent to deliver a warning.”

“No. I’m looking for information. What about this seditious talk?”

“Nothing specific. There’s always some malcontent ready to stir up the factions. Even a one-eyed fool can see the riots aren’t always connected with who won the latest race. Some fight for the love of fighting. Some skulk round the edges looking for a chance to loot. Others brawl to defend the honor of their team.”

“Indeed. I didn’t need to venture into the depths of the Hippodrome to learn that. Tell me about those two who escaped execution.”

“Nobody seems to know where they are. It’s being whispered if they are not brought forward and pardoned there will be another riot. But then you must be aware of that too.”

“So the rumors are true. What are the men’s names?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know every member of the factions personally. Everyone who attends the races is a faction member.”

“Yes, but few of them are singled out for execution by the emperor. I would have expected word to spread quickly. Someone must know their names.”

“No one around here knows the names of the emperor’s enemies.”

“No one would want to risk seeming connected to such men, you mean. How serious is all this talk? The usual grumbling or something more?”

Junius tossed the rag he had been using to the concrete floor. “I’m a charioteer, not a politician. I concern myself with chariots and horses, not plots. If you want to know more, ask Porphyrius. He’s a palace favorite and I’ve noticed lately he seems uneasy.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He’s got a mansion in the city but the past few weeks he’s been sleeping at the Hippodrome, on a bed of straw. Says there’s evil abroad and he’s staying here to help guard against it. I don’t believe him. He can afford any number of watchmen and he’s always boasted he’s not superstitious.”

“What is your explanation?”

Junius did not hesitate before replying. “I’ve thought about that. Of course the Greens are just as alert and have their own men here day and night. But consider, there are plenty of unused, out-of-the-way rooms and passageways down here. It’s a perfect place to meet people unobserved, isn’t it? Yes, I would certainly interview Porphyrius, but don’t expect him to be as straightforward with you as I’ve been.”

John found himself wandering through the Hippodrome stables, undecided about whether he should seek out Porphyrius. The great charioteer knew the factions as well as he knew the turning posts of the racetrack. After all, he had raced for both the Greens and Blues during his long career and both had erected monuments to him on the narrow raised platform of the spina forming a barrier between the two arms of the U-shaped racetrack. If the factions were plotting together, Porphyrius would know. But if he had such knowledge why hadn’t he brought it to the emperor’s attention? Did John want to alert Porphyrius to his investigation? How long before he found out that John had been asking questions?

Besides, how did one interrogate a man who was immortalized in bronze? Although John’s duties brought him increasingly into contact with the rich and powerful of the capital, he was still not entirely used to it.

The sound of John’s name interrupted his debate with himself. He saw the grinning, beaked face of his old friend Haik.

“John! What are you up to here? Never mind. My business is done. It’s getting late. Time for a cup of wine, I’d say.”

“Perhaps it is,” John replied without hesitation, happy to have his decision made for him. “There’s a tavern I know not far from the Baths of Zeuxippus, on the way to my house. It’s usually quiet.”

“Quiet? Compared to your house?”

“You can’t believe the number of servants that came with the house.”

“Yes. I think I see what you mean. The last time we spoke we were probably sitting outside a tent, or maybe inside a tavern.”

They made their way out of the Hippodrome. The colonnades along the street funneled a biting wind. Bits of straw swirled around their ankles. John recalled the fire he had seen near the Church of Saint Laurentius. One did not wish for wind when the factions became restive.

As they went by the entrance to the baths shrill shouts from a group of street urchins caught their attention. The urchins stood in the middle of the square in front of the baths and at first John thought they were playing. Then one of the boys charged at the other three with such ferocity, and was caught, thrown to the ground, and pummeled so unmercifully that it was apparent no game was involved.