Richard Blake - The Curse of Babylon

I nodded. I put the cup down and turned to Antonia. The maids had done her proud in yellow silk. There could be no doubt of her sex. ‘Did he cry much?’ I asked. She nodded. That may have been a good sign, I thought. Tears had always so far meant that Theodore was getting over his cause of grief.

‘He told me he was going to pray in the chapel,’ she said. ‘He believes it was a temptation from the Devil but that God intervened to save him.’ I stared again at the cup. It was grossly ugly. If I chose not to give to Heraclius, the world of art wouldn’t suffer a jot if I sent it off for minting into more of my new coins. So Theodore was blaming the powers of darkness. A night in the dark with one of my dancing boys would have done him more good. But I was now at least sharing the blame.

Antonia changed the subject. ‘So this is it?’ she asked, nodding at the cup. ‘This is the Horn of Babylon that Daddy wants so he can give it to Shahin?’

‘Yes,’ I said briskly. Antonia had brought Theodore back to what few senses he had. I was glad of that, but didn’t wish to dwell on the force of personality this had taken. The cup was much easier to discuss. ‘I’ve been wondering if the wording is some elaborate modern code. Apart from recent cleaning, though, it’s unquestionably ancient.’ I put it down before her. ‘I’ve cleaned it again,’ I explained. ‘It had none of the usual signs of poison. It’s quite safe to touch.’

She frowned and sat back. ‘Do you really think that,’ she asked. She ignored the impatient face I pulled. ‘I heard what Eunapius explained last night. Don’t forget too that I was there when your eunuchs set hands on it. Neither was killed by poison. Perhaps they temporarily drained its power. Perhaps it likes you. But can’t you at least see how evil it looks?’

Time to show who was the master, I decided. ‘Antonia,’ I said, ‘this is a piece of metal shaped by men whose bodies had crumbled to dust before the Jews built Jerusalem. Whatever harm it can do is purely in the mind of anyone who believes in it.’

‘Oh, believe what you will,’ she said quickly. ‘But lock it away. You mustn’t let Daddy or the Persians take it from you.’ We could agree on that. I lifted the cup and saw how it glittered in the sunlight. When enough people share them, imaginary terrors become real. We couldn’t have this carried into battle against us. Our armies were demoralised as it was. I went back to my earlier thoughts of mint value. Assuming five pounds of reasonably pure metal, the cup would make about four hundred of the new coins. That would put an end to all this nonsense. The cash would certainly come in handy. I wiped off my fingerprints with a napkin and put the thing back into its box. I put the lid on roughly where it had been levered away by the Master of the Timings. But that gave the whole thing a tatty appearance. I took the lid off again and dropped it into one of the trays on my desk.

I changed the subject. ‘You did know that your father had promised you to Eunapius?’ I asked. She thought, then nodded. That explained the risk she’d run in getting me to take her along to the recital. She wanted a look at her intended one. If he’d been younger or less nauseous to look at, would she have sided so decisively with me? I put the thought aside. Unlike her father, Antonia knew when to keep her options open and when to stand by her choices.

She was looking at the cup again. On its bed of silk padding, it was beginning to remind me of a body in an unsealed coffin. I picked up the box and locked it away in the secret cupboard. I glanced out of the window. It would be a late dinner. ‘Get Theodore from the chapel,’ I said. ‘He’ll take you to the dining room. I’ll join you there with a full explanation of the past few days. Before then, there are one or two matters that need my attention.’ The excuse I gave for this was a look at the five baskets of documents the clerks had dumped beside my desk.

Hands behind my back, I stared down at Priscus. ‘You swore blind you wouldn’t shit on me again,’ I shouted. I dropped my voice. We were a long way from the inhabited areas of the palace and the walls were thick, but I brought my voice under control. ‘I was a fool to believe you.’

Priscus twisted again on his filthy mattress and laughed into his pillow. ‘But Alaric, my dearest young stunner,’ he croaked, half triumphant, half desperate not to give way to open, mocking laughter, ‘it was a harmless deception — and do try to see how well it’s turning out. I watched you earlier in loving mood with your intended. Just think what joys I’ve brought into your life, even if they were unintended.’

Not moving, I hardened my face. ‘I could have been killed a dozen times over,’ I said. I realised too late how pompous I must be looking. I shut my eyes and let out a long breath. ‘You could have let me in on your plot,’ I said. Too late again, I realised how feeble that sounded.

He rolled over on his back. ‘Don’t be silly, Alaric!’ he laughed. ‘I knew you could deal with poor Shahin. You hardly stayed on his ship long enough to digest your dinner. As for last night, I did intend warning you but I decided at the last moment to trust in your unfailing luck. The girl overheard enough. No need for Uncle Priscus to join in the fun. And you did have the cup on your side.’

Breathing heavily, I glowered at the grinning skeleton before me. ‘I see you now admit to knowing all about the cup,’ I said darkly. ‘So let’s try for a little frankness. You heard about the Eunapius conspiracy on one of your night walks through the City. Instead of bringing word of it to me, you went and stole the cup. You stuffed it inside the main gate, then let word get back to Simon that I had it. I suppose I should thank you for getting word to Shahin to come and save me from Simon.’

Priscus sat up and reached for a mirror. He rubbed at the lines on his face. ‘You must believe me for once,’ he said with an earnest turn, ‘that I do have your welfare in mind. Can we speak frankly about the cup? It really is what everyone says it is. It’s not supposed to do anything nasty for seven days. But you have been touching it with your bare hands. No one outside the initiated has ever done that before. God knows what you’ve set in motion.’

I fished about in a pile of clothes for the baggy tunic he wore when there was no chance he’d leave the palace. How could he make these rooms so untidy? No — how could he make them so dirty ? I had five trusted slaves dancing attendance on him. Doubtless, he liked to keep these attic quarters in much the same state as the whole palace had been when I first moved in. But he might have had some regard for the poor bloody slaves I’d given him. I checked myself. Talk about regard. .

He staggered to his feet and took the tunic from my outstretched hand. ‘Will your face go any redder if I continue talking about the supernatural?’ he asked with a turn to the serious. I said nothing. ‘You will have it your way, Alaric,’ he sighed. ‘Be a love, then, and tell me if you can see a bottle of green fluid. Until you can find us a new compounder, I plan to be more economical than I’ve become.’ Turning, he nearly kicked over a full chamber pot.

I sat down on the one chair that wasn’t heaped with soiled undergarments. ‘It was you who killed the man I found in the side street,’ I said. ‘And, since you knew what he was looking for, why did you treat that intruder so cruelly?’

He shrugged and pulled the seal off a small ceramic wine vat. He looked at the dark fluid. He took a swig from it and smacked his lips. ‘This is good stuff,’ he said. ‘I hope you can find more of it.’ He passed it to me. It was good wine. And I’d been privately blaming Samo for depleting my stock of it. ‘The man in the street had been trying to kill me and was able to tell me something useful before he died. The man I put under your bed was your freedman. He had certain duties to you that a few gold coins didn’t abolish. You’ll be a proper fool if you weep for him.’