In addition, the man who attacked Hypatia had been unusually quick and strong for a beggar.
“Are you certain you weren’t observed by anyone at Antonina’s house?” John asked Hypatia.
“I didn’t see any guards posted outside,” she said.
That she hadn’t noticed any guards didn’t mean no one was watching. Or she could have been followed, even as she was following Vesta. Unaccompanied women were frequently assaulted in the streets. It struck John as strange Hypatia should just happen to be attacked after seeing Vesta visit Antonina. He thought of how Germanus had sent one of his guards to subtly threaten John after being questioned.
Yet he could see no way that Antonina could have ordered such an attack, so quickly, even if someone had spotted Hypatia lingering outside the house.
No, John decided, there had probably been no connection. He was trying so hard to find connections where there were none-to find a link between Theodora’s death and someone at court-that he was beginning to see them where nothing existed.
He left Hypatia at his house.
As much as he would have liked to visit Peter, and have a bite to eat and a rest, he had other business to attend to first.
Chapter Thirty-two
Vesta greeted him at Joannina’s rooms in the womens’ quarters.
She must have left Antonina’s house shortly after Hypatia had turned around and headed back home.
“Lord Chamberlain! I shall fetch my mistress at once.”
“After I speak with you, Vesta. I am told you picked foxglove leaves from the palace gardens and took them to Antonina.”
The attendant looked at him like a frightened child. Again he noted the mousy brown hair, the overly long nose, the protrudent front teeth. John found it hard to imagine Anatolius carrying on an affair with this homely, half-formed adolescent despite the apparent evidence.
“It’s true that I delivered them to Lady Antonina. She uses foxglove in her herbal preparations.”
“What sort of preparations?”
“All kinds. It’s a common ingredient. It’s often used for love potions.” She blushed.
“Your mistress and her mother are estranged. She doesn’t approve of your mistress’ liaison with Anastasius.”
“Oh, excellency. It’s more than an affair. Empress Theodora intended them to marry and they will marry unless-”
“Unless Antonina prevents it. So how is it you are permitted to assist Antonina and go back and forth between the two households?”
“My mistress is trying to mend things between them.”
Not to mention using you to spy on Antonina, John thought.
Vesta bit her lip. “It’s been tiring. So many extra chores. And sometimes it’s been terrifying. I have to be out in the city at night, unattended. Because, you see, the ladies don’t want anyone to know they are availing themselves of Lady Antonina’s services.”
“Services such as love potions?”
“Yes. I suppose that might be it. Lady Antonina never reveals to me what the ladies have ordered.”
John, thinking of Hypatia’s recent observations, accepted the truth of this part at least of Vesta’s statements. “Did Antonina have you take anything to Theodora during her illness?”
Vesta looked distressed. “She gave me packages for the empress. I don’t know what was in them.”
“Did Theodora instruct you to ask Antonina for potions?”
Vesta shook her head. “No. I have delivered notes back and forth.”
“You have been kept busy, Vesta. And in addition to everything else, you continue to seek out legal advice at odd hours?”
Vesta flushed. “Yes.”
“Nothing else? You didn’t deliver potions or packages to Anatolius? Gray heads sometimes need them, although a girl your age might not realize that.”
Vesta’s face reddened further.
John looked around as he heard quiet footsteps.
Joannina appeared in the atrium. “You may go now, Vesta,” she said and then turning to John went on, “I take it you have established my lady-in-waiting has an acceptable reason to be visiting my mother?”
John smothered his irritation as Vesta hastened away.
“I heard part of your conversation, Lord Chamberlain,” Joannina said. “My mother did concoct potions and cosmetics for Theodora at one time or another. After she returned to Constantinople, I believe she resumed the practice. For a very short time. If mother wanted to poison the empress, she had opportunities. But she and Theodora were very close friends.”
Joannina was smiling, but her blue eyes looked as hard as glittering gems. “My mother and I have our differences, but, based on Vesta’s reports, my impression is lately mother’s main interest was persuading the empress to advise Justinian to send more aid to my father. Not in thwarting Theodora concerning my marriage.”
“Indeed,” John replied. He noted Joannina did not bother to protest that her mother was incapable of murder.
Joannina’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Now the empress is no longer able to insist Anastasius marries me, what will happen to us?”
Her air of confidence evaporated. She resembled the young girl she was. A girl who was afraid.
“Is Anastasius here?”
Joannina paused. “No. He’s gone out. Why? Why do you ask?”
“I wish to talk to him. He has an interest in the situation.”
“Yes, the same interest as mine, Lord Chamberlain. But bear in mind he surely wouldn’t have killed his own grandmother, even if she were opposed to us marrying. Her death was a double loss for him. I have no idea where he went and I can’t imagine what he could tell you that would be of any assistance.”
John took his leave. No one was telling him the entire truth. Of that he was certain. But to what extent they were lying, and about what, or what exactly they might not be telling him, he could not fathom.
He needed to take a different approach.
Chapter Thirty-three
Anastasius left his carriage and guards waiting conspicuously outside Artabane’s house and stalked to its door, doing his best to project an air of menace.
A gray-haired servant looked him up and down, projecting an irritating lack of respect, let alone fear. “Your name?”
“Anastasius”
The servant looked unimpressed. “For whom are you calling?”
“Artabanes of course!”
“You are on the wrong side then, sir, please step this way.” The servant inexplicably gestured to the left of a line of black marble running down the middle of the atrium. Anastasius stamped through the door, stepping on the black marble.
“Please, sir.” The servant inclined his head and nodded at the offending foot. “That is enemy territory.”
The old man must be losing his wits, thought Anastasius. He moved his foot and followed the man along the left side of the black strip, into the garden, and down a path beside a knee-high hedge.
Artabanes was sharing a bench with a collection of wine jugs and cups. He pushed himself up from his seat, swaying and blinking.
“Anastasius wishes to speak with you,” announced the servant before bowing slightly and departing with a faint sniff of disdain.
During the short ride from the palace Anastasius had been stoking a blaze of anger. He had vowed to Joannina that he would take revenge on the man whose actions had thwarted their marriage, or else see to it that Artabanes atoned for it by aiding the young couple. However, as soon as he was out of sight of Joannina, the idea of confronting a powerful elder terrified him.
Truthfully, he feared confrontations. To face them he had to work himself into a blinding fury, but the sight of this skinny little man, badly shaven and utterly inebriated, quickly quenched the flames. Anastasius had envisioned himself shouting demands and threats. Now he could barely remember what he intended to say.
Artabanes peered foggily at him. “Anastasius? You are Theodora’s grandson, aren’t you? My commiserations. That is to say, on your grandmother. Your grandmother’s…uh…passing…”