He passed a street he’d visited earlier. Movement caught his eye as a thin shape slunk into an alley. The starving cat from the bakery, carrying something in its mouth.
John sighed. “I’m glad the day has brought someone good fortune, my feline friend.”
***
Gaius perched his bulk uncomfortably on a stool in John’s kitchen. Hypatia shifted a bronze pot to the back of the brazier, added water, and stirred the mixture in an attempt to tame the wildly bubbling concoction. Nose-stinging smoke hung in the air. Evidently some of the pot’s contents had boiled over when Hypatia went downstairs to admit Gaius to the house.
“I’m sorry to have made you wait, sir. Peter’s usually prompt to answer the door. He isn’t himself right now.”
“Of course. He will be mourning his friend. And what are you preparing, Hypatia?”
“This is a mixture to fortify the body against afflictions. It is commonly used in Egypt.”
“What I could actually use to fortify myself is a cup of wine.”
Hypatia set jug and cup on the table. Gaius emptied the cup at one gulp and poured himself a second libation.
Hypatia gave the pot another stir and pushed a strand of black hair away from her tawny forehead. She had very striking eyes, Gaius thought. He shifted and the stool creaked alarmingly under his weight. He needed to visit the gymnasium more often, he told himself, lifting the wine jug to pour again.
“Are there any potions I could prepare for you to use at the hospice, sir? If there was only some cure…”
Gaius shook his head. “The only cure seems to be good fortune. Do you happen to have a recipe for that?”
“No, but I’ve made a number of charms to protect us all.” Hypatia waved her ladle toward the baked clay scorpion crouched on the table. “You can take that one with you if you wish, sir. The house is well guarded by others.”
“What I need is more something with hands. Hands is what we’re short of. To bathe the sick, calm the humors, administer pain-killing mixtures, that sort of thing.”
“That’s all you can do for your patients?”
“I’ve tried lancing the swellings. When they burst spontaneously the patients tend to live, but in those cases I’ve attempted it, I generally find carbuncles inside and they die anyway.”
Hypatia wrinkled her nose. “Peter says it’s judgment from heaven to punish the sinful.”
“I couldn’t tell you which among them are sinners. Sin doesn’t seem to have symptoms. I do know most die with the name of their god on their lips.” Gaius drained his cup for the third time. One would expect a Lord Chamberlain to own decent sized goblets, he thought irritably.
“You mentioned Peter’s friend?”
Gaius stared thoughtfully into his cup. At least he hadn’t been presented with that cracked specimen John insisted on using, a cup not fit for a beggar in his opinion.
“Yes,” he finally said, “Gregory. I cannot stay too long, so I wish you to convey to your master that it occurred to me to do a complete examination of his body. There hadn’t been any reason hitherto since the cause of his death was obvious enough. But seeing John’s great interest in the man…well, anyway, tell your master my advice is not to waste any more time looking for his murderer. Gregory had swellings in the groin so it is more than likely he would’ve been dead in a few days anyway. Whatever scoundrel slid a blade between his ribs did him a favor.”
Chapter Five
“If you ask me, Gaius was right. There must be hundreds in this city praying right now for the quick end Gregory had.” Felix swirled the last of his wine, peering down into its dregs as if he were seeking information on his future. “You’ve had to put a mortally wounded comrade out of his misery on the battlefield more than once, I’ll wager.”
John scowled at the burly, bearded excubitor captain seated by the study window. “Once, yes. He begged me to do so. It was a merciful act. However, I must find the culprit for Peter’s sake, not for Gregory’s.”
“These things happen all the time, John, like cart accidents or being struck by lightning, except a lot more frequently. From what you’ve told me I see no reason to think his death was anything more than the result of robbery.”
“No, there’s no logical reason to suppose otherwise,” John admitted. “Only Peter’s vision.”
“The angel? Well, if his god went to the trouble of sending a heavenly messenger, why not reveal the name of the culprit as well? Why push the job on to you, an unbeliever?”
“You remind me of Anatolius in his wittier mode.”
Felix tugged at his beard. “Yes, well…I suppose I shouldn’t be so flippant. I’m about to depart the city for a while, which is what I came to tell you. I’ve been ordered to take some of my men and escort Justinian and Theodora to their Blachernae estate.”
“I hadn’t heard they were leaving the palace. Then again, it’s been some days since Justinian summoned me and, thankfully, even longer since I was ordered to attend an audience with Theodora.”
“A thousand people are dying every day and the bodies can’t be cleared from the streets fast enough for the carts to get through. It’s best for our emperor and his wife to be away from the contagion, if only a short distance. It suits me, too. I don’t think Fortuna cares much for excubitors. We’ve been particularly hard hit, and for every guard who’s fallen ill another has decided to flee the city. I have so few men left, we’re keeping entrances locked rather than guarding them. I don’t think the palace has ever been less secure.”
Felix fell silent for a moment. “Still,” he finally said, “the imperial couple being absent from the palace at a time of great crisis and Peter missing from his kitchen…Perhaps the end is truly at hand.”
“Peter would agree with you on that. Still, I imagine the rest of the court will hasten to their own estates now Justinian and Theodora are leaving. As long as they remained at the palace nobody dared to suggest the possibility.” John refilled his cup and passed the wine jug to Felix. “Before you ask, I’m staying here.”
“I wasn’t going to bother inquiring.” Felix looked into the jug and frowned fiercely at its lowered level. “You know, John, I’m beginning to develop a taste for this foul Egyptian wine you persist in offering your guests.”
A thin smile quirked John’s lips. “You and Gaius both, according to what Hypatia tells me.”
“Seeking treatment from the physician Bacchus again, is he? Not that I can blame him.” Felix paused. “It’s not just courtiers being freed from the confines of the palace, by the way. I’ve also received personal orders from Theodora to arrange transport for that bear she keeps in the imperial menagerie. She’s taking it with her. I gather she’s suddenly got the notion to set it free in a forest.”
“Better than setting it free on the streets, which is more the sort of thing you’d expect from Theodora.” John’s tone was mild.
“True enough. Perhaps that explains my surprise. An act of kindness by her is more shocking than any villainy she might concoct.”
“Possibly she still has a soft spot for bears, having been born a bearkeeper’s daughter?”
Felix guffawed. “I don’t think Theodora has any soft spots and I’m never going near enough to find out if I can help it. I was rather glad to get the task, to be honest. I don’t worship the bear goddess as many in Germania still do, yet I will admit Theodora’s is a magnificent specimen. And that reminds me, the last time I saw the bear a rather curious thing happened. Hektor was there.”
“The court page? What was he doing?”
“Tormenting the poor beast, of course, and I suspect not for the first time. I’ve patrolled past the menagerie numerous times and noticed the bear had a bloody muzzle more than once. Anyhow, there was Hektor in his usual finery. Green robes this time, no less, and fine blue boots, although he seemed to have lost that ridiculous hat with the peacock feather. He was pitchforking dirty straw out of the bear’s cage, but not being too careful where the tines went while he was doing it.”