Mary Reed: Ten for Dying

Felix read the message and grimaced. He looked up, groaned, and threw his sheet across Anastasia’s inviting nakedness. “A relic’s been stolen from the Church of the Holy Apostles. Must be important. The excubitors are ordered to look into it along with the urban watch. There’s no time for honey when the emperor calls.”

Felix clumped disconsolately past the excubitor barracks and across the cobbled square fronting the brick-walled house where his friend John, Lord Chamberlain to Emperor Justinian, lived. His head throbbed from too much wine and not enough sleep and he could still smell Anastasia’s perfume in his beard.

Two months ago Justinian would have summoned his Lord Chamberlain to order him to look into the theft of an important relic. John would have been receiving orders in the emperor’s chilly reception hall and Felix would still be in Anastasia’s warm arms. But since Theodora’s passing, things had changed in Constantinople. John’s investigation of her death had resulted in his dismissal.

It was one of Justinian’s transitory whims, no doubt. No successor to the post had been appointed. In the meantime, Felix hoped John would help him even if he was temporarily in disfavor.

He was surprised to see a laden ox cart outside the house.

“Peter! Is your master at home?”

The old servant looked up from the crate he was tying to the back of the cart. “The master will be out shortly, but I fear he has no time for visitors.”

“Why the gloomy look, Peter? Isn’t your new marriage agreeing with you?”

Felix’s jocular tone failed to brighten the wrinkled visage. “Life’s joys are always accompanied by sorrow, sir. Our lot is to run with patience the race that is set before us, as the holy book says.”

Felix thought a man of Peter’s years should be happy to run the race with a new bride half his age. He reflected that it must be a platonic relationship as a tawny-skinned and raven-haired Egyptian woman emerged from the house. In Felix’s opinion she more resembled the parchment-skinned man’s daughter or granddaughter than his wife.

Then he saw with a shock that Hypatia cradled a swaddled figure. Before he could say a word, she lifted a corner of the blanket.

A shriveled head with enormous whiskers stared up glassy-eyed.

“Cheops, our poor little mummified cat,” Hypatia explained. “A souvenir of Peter’s travels with the master.”

“Ah…well…congratulations to you and Peter. On your marriage, I mean. But what’s all this about?” Felix gestured toward the cart.

“You must know that the master has been exiled, sir. The whole city knows.”

“This is home no longer, Captain Felix.” Peter added.

“Yes, I know the emperor was displeased, but Justinian always comes to his senses before-”

“Not this time, my friend.” As John stepped out of the house into the sunlight Felix couldn’t help noticing his face looked more gaunt than usual and there was, hard to believe, a hint of a stoop in the tall frame. Cornelia emerged and stood beside her husband. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

“You aren’t really going away?” Felix blurted.

“Our ship leaves for Greece this morning,” John replied. “I hoped to have a chance to talk with you before we departed.”

Felix realized the quartet-master, mistress, and servants alike-all wore rough traveling cloaks. “I would have come to see you, John, but I never imagined…and I’ve been…well…very busy…important business.”

Cornelia walked over to the cart. Her nostrils flared. “Busy, indeed! That’s an expensive scent you’re wearing! Everyone at the palace knows about your important business, even those of us in disfavor.”

Felix felt his face flush.

Cornelia glared at him. “Anatolius has been exceptionally busy in his legal endeavors lately, what with all the uncertainties everyone faces with Theodora gone, but he managed to tear himself away from the charms of the magistrates to pay his respects. Even Isis visited and cried the whole time.”

“Isis left the refuge?” He was surprised the brothel owner, now head of a sanctuary for reformed prostitutes, would have dared to visit a disgraced Lord Chamberlain.

“Why not? She’s known John for years. She had several girls in tow. To protect her reputation I suppose. Very proper they look now in their plain garments. Quite a contrast to the old days.”

“As usual Isis wanted to reminisce about when we knew each other in Egypt although in reality our paths never crossed there. Not that I recall.” John pulled the heavy nail-studded wooden door shut and locked it. “However, speaking of Egypt, there’s still an ample stock of Egyptian wine left in the house.” He handed the key to Felix. “Help yourself to anything else left behind before the emperor does.”

The key was a massive weight in Felix’s hand. “Why didn’t you warn me you were about to go?”

The former Lord Chamberlain answered only with a faint smile.

“I realize you don’t like farewells, John, but-”

“And you didn’t come to say farewell. What is it then?”

Felix’s head seemed to be filled with cobwebs. Perhaps he wasn’t as sober as he had imagined after the night’s excesses. “A relic’s been stolen,” he said, realizing that he shouldn’t be burdening John under the circumstances, but too befuddled to change course. He pulled the emperor’s message from his cloak. “It’s all explained here. Very strange. I was hoping you’d accompany me to the Church of the Holy Apostles.”

Cornelia’s eyes gleamed, resembling the edge of a newly honed sword. “Felix, you know very well Justinian made it plain nothing happening in Constantinople is of interest to John any longer. Not to mention our ship sails in an hour or two.”

John put his hand on her arm. “We’ll take a couple of the excubitors’ horses. You and the others go on to the docks. I’ll be there before the cart’s unloaded.”

“Master, if I may ask, could we leave now?” Peter put in. “That big man lounging against the barracks has been taking quite an interest in us ever since we came outside.”

“No wonder. It’s not often you see a former high-ranking official being sent away in disgrace,” Cornelia snapped. “He’s no doubt one of Justinian’s spies, making certain the emperor’s orders are obeyed.”

“John’s fortunate,” Felix pointed out. “Usually those who fall from favor disappear permanently.”

The glare Cornelia gave him made Felix wish he could vanish. She climbed up onto the seat of the cart beside her two servants. “Are you certain you aren’t going to get John involved in anything dangerous?”

Felix shook his head. “Hardly, unless you consider frogs dangerous.”

“Frogs?”

Felix opened the scroll and glanced at it. “So it says. The new mausoleum at the back of the church was overrun with frogs.”

Hypatia suddenly leaned around Peter, who had taken up the reins. “Are you certain, sir?”

“At least thirty of them.”

Peter glanced at Hypatia. “You look distressed, my dear. What is it?”

Hypatia bit her lip.

“There is something you wish to say?” John asked.

“If I may, master,” Hypatia replied hesitantly, “in Egypt frogs are sacred to the goddess associated with resurrection. That so many appeared overnight in a place of the dead seems a great wonder. Where could they all have come from?”

Felix ran a hand through his beard. “Strange you should mention Egypt. A carved scarab was left behind.”

John looked thoughtful. “Frogs and a scarab are an unusually suggestive pairing. Was someone trying to raise the dead?”

Felix didn’t answer immediately. He hoped John was joking. But his friend didn’t smile. “It could be,” Felix finally said, reluctantly. The implications of John’s observation made him shudder. “The scarab was found lying on top of Theodora’s sarcophagus.”