Felix strolled around the base of the marble Christ, shaking his head. “No, this is not to my taste at all. When I first arrived in Constantinople, it made me uncomfortable, having the eyes of this man upon me everywhere. Hanging on every wall, looming over me as I came and went from the palace.”
Palamos emerged into the vestibule. A fond pat from his pudgy hand sent the boy who had found him back to work.
Felix watched the child race away. “You’ve got more urchins in here than there are on the street.”
“The church is a safer place for them. We try to employ as many as possible. It brings tears to my eyes to see all the beautiful little boys living off scraps, shivering in rags, freezing to death in corners.”
Felix stated their business.
Palamos’ pallid features tightened into a frown. “There were two other patrons who, unlike Hypatius, wished to remain anonymous. Please don’t misunderstand. I am not faulting Hypatius for proclaiming his generosity. There are those who take undue pride in humility. But you can understand my difficulty.”
Felix produced a handful of coins. “Perhaps there are boys here who need new shoes?”
Palamos accepted the donation without hesitation. “How gratifying to see a military man concerned with things other than killing! I suppose I can tell you, in the strictest confidence, that one of the other patrons was Fortunatus. Another great philanthropist. He recently gave all his wealth to the church and retired to the monastery next door.”
“And the second?” John inquired. “A pious widow named Dominica.” Palamos noticed the surprise on John’s face. “You’re acquainted with Dominica?”
“She is an acquaintance of an employer.” Palamos told them where Dominica lived. “If you’re still interested in why so many oppose Theodora, ask Dominica. She can certainly tell you tales. I’ve heard a few myself. Did you know that Theodora’s old actress friends, common whores the lot of them, are welcome at the Hormisdas at any hour? She arranges abortions for them. It’s something upon which she is an authority, having had considerable experience of them herself. If Justinian expects a successor out of that one, he will be sadly disappointed. She’s as worn out as a crone.”
Palamos stopped abruptly and glanced around. “I should not be talking about such things with small ears around. The Lord willing, our boys will avoid these filthy entanglements. That would be a blessing indeed.”
Felix gave a curt nod and thanked Palamos. Outside, he growled to John, “I think Palamos is much too fond of his boys. Where should we go now? There’s the monastery, practically in front of us. I suppose we should speak to this Fortunatus first.”
“If you don’t mind, let’s seek out Dominica. I find walking a useful aid in the contemplation of problems.”
Felix said nothing, but accompanied John across the Augustaion. He came to a halt suddenly, jerked his head around and scanned the square. John followed his gaze, but saw only the usual array of citizens hurrying to shops or churches or homes.
Felix resumed walking. “I keep feeling eyes on my back.”
“After being ambushed I’m not-”
“No. I’m not imagining things. Someone’s watching us, following us.”
As if to confirm his words, as the two men turned to enter the Mese, a young man in a bright red cloak, hardly suitable for street wear, came running toward them. Felix’s hand went to his sword and then dropped away when he saw the youngster’s heavily powdered and painted face. It was one of the pages who served as palace decorations, or in other capacities required by members of the court.
“They said you’d probably be lurking around here,” gasped the page, thoroughly out of breath from his burst of exertion.
“You were almost right,” John remarked to his companion. “Someone was looking for us.”
The page looked from John to Felix. “What a pair! A soldier and a eunuch! You, excubitor. The emperor wants to see you. Immediately. Follow me.”
“If Justin orders it, I shall attend,” replied Felix. “However, I can find my own way to the palace.” The black glare he directed at the page sent the youngster off at a trot.
“Trouble?” John wondered.
“We’ll see. I’d go back to the palace if I were you, John. I’m certain we were being followed.” “I don’t want to delay visiting these patrons,” John replied reluctantly.
“Be careful then. At least I now know you can handle yourself in a fight!”
John watched as Felix turned back toward the palace, and then resumed walking. Now he felt as if someone were watching him. He cursed Felix for putting the idea into his head.
Chapter Twenty-Six
John’s unease dogged him, abating only as he neared Dominica’s house. His shadower, if there indeed was one, remained as invisible as John’s fears.
The approach to the house he sought might have been just another narrow way cutting between brick boxes, apartment buildings which housed many of the administrative ant-like army that marched into palace offices every morning only to march back out each afternoon, the problems of the empire still largely unconquered.
The mansion was an eccentric affair, a two-story hexagonal structure with a series of porches. Hardly in keeping with the practical, unimaginative personality Anna had described. On the other hand, it had almost certainly been built by Dominica’s deceased husband.
John was halfway across the courtyard when a shout sounded from behind.
“You! Stop!”
He whirled. Several men rushed at him, brandishing weapons.
Dominica’s guards.
“I am here to see your mistress,” he called out hastily, fumbling for the Gourd’s letter of introduction. Further conversation was halted by the arrival of a curtained litter borne by six sturdy servants outfitted in matching red and yellow tunics. The litter was painted red and fitted with yellow curtains. Doubtless it had been accompanied by the guards who had just challenged him.
At a muffled command from within, the bearers set the litter down gently a few paces away. One of the guards snatched the letter from John’s hand and pushed it between the curtains.
John ruefully watched the official talisman vanish inside. He wondered if the Gourd’s magick charms were more efficacious than his seal. So far, the letter of introduction, while having the power to make aristocratic lips move, could not compel them to reveal anything useful.
As he waited, he studied the garishly painted carvings on the litter. Rows of crosses ran around the top, and a large cross was affixed to the front of the litter, tilted forward, pointing the way like the prow of a ship. Upon each yellow curtain had been painted an image of Christ and beneath it a short Biblical verse in Greek.
Before John could finish reading them, there was another murmur from within the litter and the guard drew its curtain partly open.
John stooped to see into the interior. Even in the suffused golden light seeping through the curtains, the widowed Dominica was a woman of stern visage. No makeup softened her wrinkles and her gray hair had been pulled back into a tightly coiled bun.
She gave John a keen look. “If the Prefect wants me to answer your questions, I will have to do so.”
“If you would be so kind,” John responded with a bow.
The interior of the litter was half-filled with blankets and pillows. Its front wall bore a shelf holding a trio of miniature busts of aristocratic mien. John recalled hearing that Dominica had survived three husbands.
“Are you going to question me or just stand there gaping? Senator Opimius told me about your grilling his colleague Aurelius. I think he rather enjoyed the spectacle. I never thought that I would be next on the skewer, especially since Opimius tells me you have been dismissed from tutoring his daughter.”
“A regrettable matter, but I assure you-”