As Porphyrius completed his circuit of the track and came even with the kathisma, the herald stepped up onto the low platform at the front of the box and raised the scepter. The masses, focussed on Porphyrius noticed the movement in the imperial box. Silence fell. Was the emperor about to make an offering to them? But what did he have to offer to cool their anger?
Accompanied by several guards Justinian, Narses at his heels, brushed past John and Felix.
“Romans, your emperor greets you.” The herald’s trained voice rang out, audible to every ear in the eerily quiet stadium. “Now, as we all rejoice in this great hour of victory, know that our beloved emperor Justinian, merciful and just, has heard your plea. Content yourselves that in his benevolence and wisdom, he chooses to serve his people and his God. To protect the empire and its citizens from those who would do it harm the emperor decrees that the two faction members be kept in safety until they can be released without danger. Now let us offer our praise to both the emperor and our glorious champion, Porphyrius.”
John thought the herald rushed the final sentence a bit. The big man practically fell over his dragging toga as he hastened off the speaking platform and out of the imperial box.
The dignitaries looked at each other and the suddenly empty throne in confusion. The throng remained silent. Stunned. They had expected their demands to be met or, perhaps, rejected. Justinian had done neither.
Standing in his chariot on the track, facing away from the kathisma toward the stands where the Greens were seated, Porphyrius raised both arms high above his head.
The Greens exploded. If the previous uproar had been the low rumble of an earthquake this one was a thunderclap. A thunderclap that went on and on.
As Porphyrius pivoted to face the Blues, John saw the reason. The great charioteer wore no colors. He was dressed in dull brown. But his upraised palms had been painted-one blue, the other green.
***
The outcry carried to the seashore where the ragged man who had claimed he would walk into the palace and take the demon emperor to task sat with his feet in the seawater, devouring a raw fish. He looked up at the wheeling cloud of gulls overhead and smiled.
“Doves of the sea, it will not be long….”
And then on the malodorous wind came an even louder cry, torn from thousands of angry throats: “Long live the Blues and Greens! Long live the mercy of the Greens and Blues!”
The man eating a fish smiled again. “Old enemies are uniting, my feathered friends,” he said, throwing fish bones into the water. “Soon they will receive good tidings….”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’ll appreciate that I don’t have time to spare. We’ve had more reports of trouble in the streets.” The Urban Prefect Eudaemon did not move as if he were in a hurry as he led John slowly down a corridor at the Praetorium. He was a big, soft, wide-hipped man with dull eyes and a thick lipped mouth. Dressed like a soldier in a cuirass, his tunic cinched at the middle with a wide leather belt, leather boots reaching to his knees, he reminded John of the cow that had originally worn the leather.
The prefect would not have needed reports of unrest had he glanced out the Praetorium’s entrance. A noisy gang surrounded the building, flooding the Mese back to the archway into the Forum Constantine.
The sounds did not penetrate to Eudaemon’s office. The standard cross on the wall was accompanied by a bust of Justinian on a table. Codices were strewn across a marble-topped desk.
Eudaemon stood by the desk. “When I was informed you were here to see me I was inclined to refuse. Then I was told you are on the emperor’s business. Even so….” He sighed. He was dressed for battle but gave the impression that fighting was the last thing he wanted to do.
“The Green and the Blue who survived their hangings. Who were they?”
“As to the Blue, I can’t say. No one came forward to identify him. The Green, I learned after the hearing, was named Hippolytus. An unfortunate name for a patron of the racing teams. Charioteers are such a superstitious lot you’d think they would want nothing to do with a man whose name meant undone by horses. Still, gold smooths many a rough patch and stills fears in a remarkable fashion.”
“You hang men without knowing who they are?”
“Why do I need to know a man’s name when I know his crime? Under the laws of our great emperor we hang men for their crimes not for their names. Hippolytus was a wealthy man. The Green no doubt a worthless ruffian. A baker’s son perhaps. There’s justice in all her beauty. A rich man and a baker’s son hanging side by side.”
“Nevertheless, I would expect a magistrate to inquire into a man’s name before condemning him.”
“I acted as magistrate. Should I beat a man’s name out of him if he won’t cooperate? I admit the hearing was conducted in haste. There’s been no time to waste lately and the emperor’s orders were plain. The executions were meant to serve as an example to the populace. To show that the emperor sides with neither faction. He allies himself only with the law. Even handed justice is what was wanted.”
“Everyone is trying to be even handed lately,” John remarked, thinking of Porphyrius’ recent demonstration at the Hippodrome. “When did you find out about Hippolytus?”
“Shortly after those meddling monks carted him off to Saint Laurentius several miscreants showed up here to petition for his release.”
“You sent them away?”
“Justinian’s orders were to execute the criminals. It wasn’t for me to contradict the emperor.”
“How politically active was Hippolytus?”
“Active enough to get himself hung.”
“What were his crimes, exactly?”
Eudaemon pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Exactly? Well…that’s hard to say. I’m sure a lawyer could find the appropriate offenses, given more time than was available. Hippolytus instigated a riot against the emperor the night before the execution. He and his friends went on a rampage, all the while calling for the emperor’s head. To be precise, they broke into a butcher’s, stole the carcass of a swine, dressed it in a purple robe, and decapitated it in front of the Praetorium. Do you doubt there’s a law against that?”
“I’m not a lawyer.”
“And, you are…what? I’m not sure you mentioned your position.”
“I’m a chamberlain to the emperor.”
The prefect’s face reddened slightly. “Yes, I see. My apologies. I am trying to be helpful. It’s just that I’ve been rushed off my feet.”
“I understand the gallows had to be constructed in a hurry.”
“It’s true I had short notice.”
“Could that account for the failure of the ropes?”
“I can’t see how. We keep our equipment in the storerooms next to the prison. There’s quite a collection of devices. The empress in particular often has whims. The ropes were simply not up to the task. It happens. Whoever sold them to us will suffer for it, when I have time to go over my accounts and determine who that was.”
“I was thinking that someone could have tampered with the ropes. There must have been a lot of confusion in the rush.”
“It was the usual crew. Of course, these Blues and Greens insinuate themselves everywhere. There’s always bribery. But that would mean the ropes had been cut and they weren’t. Not according the reports I received.”
“Your executioner, Kosmas, doesn’t think they were cut. You met Hippolytus. Do you have any opinions? Is it possible who he was had anything to do with his escape or his murder?”
“In what way? I can’t think of anything.”
John had held off questioning Eudaemon about the guards who had been dispatched to the Church of Saint Laurentius and had failed so miserably in their task. Since it seemed he could learn nothing more about the executions, he mentioned their failure.