Mary Reed: Ten for Dying

He shut the dome with a click. Felix well knew the only point that mattered to him right now was that the emperor valued this peculiar old scrap of cloth more than the head of his excubitor captain. If Felix didn’t find the relic he would soon be joining John in exile, or a worse fate, given Justinian’s apparent derangement since Theodora’s death. But how was he supposed to accomplish that? To believers, the shroud was holier than the Great Church. The Great Church, however, could not be folded up like a child’s tunic for hiding.

There was no use pondering the problem now. He forced his attention to the matter of Theodora’s tomb. “You’d better show me where the frogs were,” he told Basilius.

The mausoleum’s elderly doorkeeper was half dozing on a stool by an outside entrance. A stout stick leaning across the inside of the door frame provided an attempt at a barrier. As Basilius, Felix, and John approached, he blinked and grabbed the stick, and attempted to stand.

“Remain seated,” Basilius told him.

Felix was dumbfounded. “This ancient is who you have guarding the mausoleum?”

“Timothy is perfectly dependable, sir.”

The sight of the stick caused Felix to raise his eyebrows. “You mean he’s too crippled to want to stroll about during the night?”

Timothy turned a watery gaze on Felix. “There’s not a soul in the city wants to go creeping around a tomb in the middle of the night, sir. Especially Theodora’s tomb. It makes my hairs prickle just sitting in the doorway. More than once I’ve felt the hand of the empress this close to the back of my neck.” He showed Felix his thumb and forefinger, the space between them the thickness of a coin. He looked toward the priest. “It’s then I mutter a prayer, and she goes back where she came from.”

“You shouldn’t speak of our blessed empress that way,” chided Basilius.

“Last night someone wanted to creep around and did,” Felix reminded the doorkeeper.

“Not men. Demons.”

“So you saw these demons, too?”

“That’s right. Two of them. They came running out of the church.”

“I have already questioned Timothy,” Basilius put in. “He confirmed everything Mada and Peteiros said about them.”

“And in which direction did they run?” Felix supposed Timothy had not been able to pursue them further than the seat of his stool.

The old man must have guessed his thoughts because he planted his stick on the ground and pulled himself upright. “There was no way to pursue them, sir. I leapt to my feet, just as I did now. But as I was about to give chase they vanished!”

Felix stared around the courtyard behind the church. There were several fountains and shrines, along with a few small trees. “Vanished? Behind what?”

“Into the air, sir. Into the darkness. It was as if Satan opened his mouth and gulped them down.”

***

“I wonder if Satan had as bad a bellyache as I do,” Felix complained.

He and John were riding slowly to the docks as their horses picked their way around pedestrians, carriages, and litters crowding the streets between the colonnades.

“What’s made your stomach hurt?”

“You, John. I hoped you’d assist me.”

“When there’s nothing to say, it is better to say nothing. Besides, you’d better get used to undertaking investigations like this. It may be that Justinian is going to turn to you now that I’m leaving.”

The suggestion horrified Felix. “I hope not!”

“He can count on you, can’t he?”

“You need to ask?”

“I’m not certain. Do I?”

Felix wondered whether John knew something of his recent activities. Not that it mattered now. He could see the waters of the Golden Horn glistening beyond the seawall on the other side of the open square where the descending street ended. John’s ship would be there, Cornelia, Peter, and Hypatia awaiting him.

“But at least tell me what you make of it all, John. What about the frogs?”

“Just frogs, judging by the bloodstains left by those that were trodden on. Not to mention the leftover legs. I saw nothing that supported these claims of malignant fiends running about.”

“You mean Timothy imagined or dreamed of seeing them and it improved in the telling?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps? You have no opinion? You didn’t ask any questions, John. I can’t understand why you weren’t paying attention.”

“Mada and her husband were from somewhere around the Euxine Sea. They had lost much of their accents, so I suspect they probably came to Constantinople when they were young.”

“All right, so you were paying attention after all, my friend. But didn’t you learn anything of use to me now?”

“I don’t know yet.” John dismounted, handed the reins to Felix, and with a quiet “Mithra guard you” walked quickly toward one of the archways giving access to the docks.

Felix let him go. As he watched John’s receding back, now as straight as if he had thrown off a burden, he wondered why John hadn’t mentioned the stolen relic.

It was the relic that worried Felix the most.

“When they told me to be ready to receive a valuable item I never guessed they meant a relic as important as the Virgin’s shroud!”

Felix had been pacing the bedroom, pouring out his worries to Anastasia who sat on the bed. She had put back on the blue silk gown she wore when she arrived the night before. It was crumpled and she hadn’t finished applying her makeup. Her powdered cheeks belonged to a girl. Her untouched eyes looked older.

Felix dropped down beside her, cursing under his breath.

“So you have been using your office for financial gain?” Anastasia stared at him. He tried to read her expression. Condemnation? Admiration? Fear? Anger? He could not fathom what she was thinking.

“Using my office…that’s not a very pleasant way to put it.”

“And how else can I put it? You receive goods and then order excubitors to transport them safely under imperial seal.”

“But neither I nor my men have any idea what we’re delivering.”

“Which makes it better?”

“I’ve seen enough to have a notion of what’s going on. It’s miraculous how saints’ bones resemble those of the unsaintly. It’s nothing but forgeries. What’s the harm?”

“Indeed. Forgers are being taxed for delivery of their fraudulent goods and those hoping to buy real relics illegally are penalized by being cheated. You’re practically doing the empire a service!”

“Did I say I was proud of myself? I’ve already explained my difficulties.”

“But how can you be in debt? You’re the captain of the excubitors. Don’t tell me Justinian doesn’t reward you handsomely.”

“He does but-”

“He’d better. Your men could pull him off the throne as easily as guard him.”

Felix raised his hand, gesturing her to be silent. “Please don’t say such a thing, even in a whisper, even in private.”

“I see you looking at the door. Do you think that impertinent servant of yours is eavesdropping?”

“No. Well, I don’t know. Any of the household could be passing by.”

Anastasia briefly pressed her lips together in annoyance before speaking. “How large can these debts be? You must own a fair amount of property.”

“Certainly I have properties. They cost me more than they bring in.”

“What kind of useless properties are these?”

“Vineyards, farms. I can hardly keep track. The only thing that seems to grow on them is debt. It’s amazing how well debt thrives in rocky soil.”

“Are you certain?”

“Do I look like a farmer? I only know what my stewards tell me. Last month a hailstorm destroyed most of my grapes.”