I’d seen him in this mood only once before. That was when he’d eaten too many honeyed figs. I’d only stopped things from ending badly by sending Martin into his room to take back the scourge I’d neglected to throw away on taking possession of the palace. Martin had prayed with the boy for the better part of Christmas Day and slowly brought him to his senses. But Martin was on Lesbos and the visions of lust Theodore had welcomed into his mind, and their brutal disabusing, weren’t in the same class as an attack of indigestion. If I’d had anyone to send out of the room, I’d have called for Father Macarius. He was a disgusting, smelly creature, whose only worthwhile feature was his ability to keep out of my sight. If there was anyone, though, who could stop the gathering descent into lunacy I was watching, it had to be the chaplain.
But Antonia was on her feet. ‘Alaric,’ she said in a voice that wasn’t to be resisted, ‘please leave the room.’ I shook my head and nodded towards Theodore. She came closer. ‘Go and see if the baths are ready,’ she added, not turning in my direction. ‘There are things we need to discuss alone.’
For the first time, I was looking at the cup in daylight. Rather, I was pretending to look at it. Whatever the light, whatever my interest, there was nothing more to be learned from an inscription in an unknown and probably dead language and a picture as crude in its own way as anything I’d seen in Egypt.
‘What did you tell him?’ I asked without looking up.
Antonia closed the office door and came over to my desk. She sat down opposite me. ‘I told him the truth,’ she said. ‘Because I am the only one who can possibly be blamed for what has happened, it was my duty to tell him the complete truth. You’ll agree that was the least he deserved.’
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.
Chapter 40
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.’