Six for Gold (21 page)

Chapter Forty-three

“I told Senator Symacchus I had a lot of experience when it came to relics,” Thomas grumbled, “and didn’t I end up with Nehushtan almost in my grasp? If only the senator had believed me—”

“There are safer ways to make a living than chasing after such things,” Europa interrupted. She gave her husband’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

She and Thomas were seated in John’s study in Constantinople, along with John, Anatolius, and Cornelia. The clang of pots accompanied by a hymn drifted down the hallway. Peter was reclaiming his kitchen.

They had talked for a long time, trying to piece together what they had learned separately.

“So really you were pursuing an investigation for the emperor, John.” Anatolius’ tone betrayed his irritation. “At least you returned from Mehenopolis more rapidly than you arrived there. I was afraid that before you got back Crispin would summon me to a meeting, and then what would I say?”

“I’m certain you’d have invented a reasonable story,” John said.

“Luckily I didn’t have to! Now, let’s see if we agree on what happened. Bishop Crispin learned of the existence of the relic in the maze from Senator Symacchus, who’d been trying to convert him to orthodoxy. Symacchus, who came to sympathize with the monophysites, had been told about it by his Egyptian guest, Melios.”

“I’ll ask Peter to show you the pilgrim flask Hapymen presented to him before we left,” John said. “It’s identical to one you described in the senator’s collection. According to Hapymen, the wavy line you thought was a river was intended to represent Mehen. No doubt the senator’s matching flask was given to him by Melios when he visited Constantinople.”

“So the monophysites, having learned of the relic, realized bringing the brazen serpent of Moses to Constantinople would demonstrate clearly to everyone that the Christian god was on their side of the theological dispute.”

Thomas guffawed. “Which, since they already had Theodora as their champion, would’ve forced Justinian to change his beliefs!”

“Almost certainly,” Anatolius agreed. “And then who would have held the real power in the empire? Fortunately for Justinian, Crispin and whatever other clerics were involved were good at plotting, but reluctant to set events in motion. That changed when Hektor arrived on the scene. He isn’t one to hesitate.”

John nodded. “I’d guess that Hektor originally got in touch with Senator Symacchus because he’d briefly been his reader and Hektor was attempting to establish himself as a pious Christian for his own purposes. When he realized the opportunity he’d stumbled over he must have been jubilant!”

“Doubtless they intended to use Apollo’s services to smuggle the relic out of Egypt?” Europa asked.

“I believe so. Melios admitted Apollo had performed similar services for him. I believe that Zebulon also had a hand in the same trade. He probably still has contacts in the religious community in Antioch. More importantly, the relic is not much taller than a man. It would fit into a large enough hive or could be cut in half and placed in two.”

Thomas gave a snort. “I would’ve just put it in a crate and shipped it.”

“Caution and secrecy are always the best policies when plotting against the emperor,” John said. “Even Hektor was cautious, in his own way. He had to remove Symacchus and his servant Achilles, to make certain their indiscreet chatter didn’t cause further trouble. He also arranged that the meddlesome adventurer who’d appeared on the scene was to be found in circumstances where he would be held responsible for the senator’s murder. That he turned out to be Thomas, with myself on his heels, was just a stroke of unexpected good fortune.”

Anatolius frowned. “I suppose Hektor and his accomplices came to the senator’s house that evening in order to take Achilles and dispose of him. I’ve given it some thought. It wasn’t just the matter of what he revealed at Isis’ house that condemned him. Remember, Achilles was sent to alert Felix because Achilles was expendable, and furthermore wouldn’t be recognized as a known associate of Hektor’s.”

Thomas leaned over to John’s desk and plucked up the small enameled artifact which had been the cause of so much misery. “So it turned out this is not a broken cross as we all supposed, but a copy of Nehushtan with the snake removed?”

“Indeed. The original would be a particularly impressive relic to bring into the city with the plague still raging,” John observed. “Consider. It cured the sick centuries ago and is still believed to be as powerful now as it was then.”

Thomas laughed. “You’re thinking about the crippled beggar, the one Peter kept telling me had been healed after going into the maze? It seems more likely Dedi arranged for one of the villagers to pretend to be lame, so he could point to him as an example of a so-called miraculous cure.”

“That might be so,” John admitted.

Cornelia looked away from gazing out the window. “What do you mean, John? You’re not suggesting the relic is anything but a forgery, are you? Remember, the beggar wasn’t in the maze for very long, yet it took you hours to find your way to the center and out again. The people carrying him should have stayed inside an hour or two at least. That speedy cure was a bad slip on Dedi’s part, I’d say.”

John agreed it was so. “Still, you have not seen Nehushtan as Peter and I did.”

Cornelia smiled. “You sound so solemn, I could almost suspect you believe in the power of this relic!”

“I’m not certain what I think about it. Religion defies proof, unlike murder. I’ve already explained why I believe Scrofa was sent out to kill me.”

Anatolius looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. If it was Porphyrios who tried—“

“He obviously didn’t know how to use the weapon very well. He must have taken the cord from Scrofa’s body after he killed him. Maybe he thought he’d hide his tracks by using it. I’m convinced the plotters ordered Scrofa to kill Symacchus and Achilles as well. They were killed the same way.”

“That makes sense. But if Porphyrios murdered Scrofa, why didn’t you bring him back in chains?”

“He was gone by the time I got out of the maze. Not only had he admitted to at least one murder, but he’d also tried to kill a Lord Chamberlain. Then there’s the question of his employers’ money. He hadn’t been able to get it, but I have no doubt that once they hear he’s run off, they’ll be convinced he absconded with it. He’ll spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder until someone catches up to him.”

“So everything has been neatly solved,” said Thomas.

“Except for the most important matter,” John pointed out. “There remains the real reason I went to Egypt. The plotters have not been exposed. For that, I will need your assistance, Anatolius.”

Anatolius looked at John in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You mentioned you’ve gained Crispin’s confidence?”

“Temporarily at least. He’s half-convinced I know something about this relic, which is probably the only reason I’m still alive.”

“Then you must arrange matters with him. He wanted to present Nehushtan to the emperor, and so he shall.”

Chapter Forty-four

The audience gathered in front of the ivory double throne occupied by Justinian and Theodora could not have been more unlike the crowd atop the Rock of the Snake, except that they had assembled for similar reasons.

Glancing around, John recognized senators, aristocrats, and assorted palace officials. Shielded by lesser clergy, the Patriarch—whether by design or accident—stood as far from Crispin as was possible. Hektor had, John noted, stationed himself mid way between the bishop and Theodora. Armed excubitors flanking the imperial couple and stationed around the walls outnumbered the distinguished guests. Felix stood beside the throne.

Work on the hall had been completed in John’s absence, and now that night had fallen, light from hundreds of lamps set on ornate silver stands or hanging by ceiling chains gilded the panes of the high windows. John glanced upward at the enormous cross that glittered through the mist of smoke. Although it was rendered in nothing more than gold and gems, he had the uneasy feeling it was on the verge of crashing down on the assembly.

He stepped toward the throne.

Justinian nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging John’s low bow, while Theodora gazed down at him with the fixed, incomprehensible stare of an ancient statue.

“My dear Lord Chamberlain,” the emperor began in thin tones John doubted were audible to most of the gathering. “We are pleased to extend our gracious thanks for your unceasing labors on our behalf. We were much relieved to hear the sheep which concerned us was not in fact suicidal, but merely the victim of a cruel trickster.”

He leaned forward and continued. “Furthermore, Lord Chamberlain, you have intrigued us with the information that this strange man concealed a far more important secret.”

“Yes, Caesar. The magician Dedi is the guardian of an astonishing relic.”

“We understand Bishop Crispin knows something of this?” Justinian turned his bland, bucolic countenance toward the bearded monophysite.

Crispin bowed. “That is so, excellency. It has pleased the Lord to deliver unto His followers a sacred artifact as irrefutable proof our understanding of His true nature is correct, and one which I venture to suggest will not disappoint your expectations. The man who brought it to the city awaits without.”

John glanced around. Theodora’s expression remained unchanged, while a smirk of satisfaction crossed Hektor’s ruined face.

“Very well,” Justinian replied. “Then it is our wish to observe and examine it.”

As the emperor uttered the words he cast a quick sidelong glance toward the impassive empress.

John signaled to the excubitors guarding the bronze doors at the other end of the hall, which immediately swung open to reveal the diminutive figure of Dedi.

The magician was dressed in plain white garments appropriate for the solemn task before him. He approached the throne slowly, almost hesitantly. An hour before he had appeared supremely unconcerned about attending an audience with Justinian, but, John supposed, coming face to face with the man who held the power of life and death over everyone in the empire was enough to give even a boastful Egyptian charlatan pause.

When Dedi reached the imperial couple he bowed clumsily.

“And this is the rogue who was responsible for the death of the sheep?” Justinian asked.

“Yes, Caesar. However, Dedi now brings two gifts and begs for the favor of performing for your imperial highnesses, possibly thereby earning your gracious pardon.”

Theodora gave a vicious smile. “Perhaps this little man believes he can mislead our beloved emperor and myself as easily and conveniently as he did ignorant peasants?”

Justinian waved his hand. “Indeed, indeed. The tale you have told intrigues me, Lord Chamberlain. We shall not rush to hasty judgement. Bishop Crispin, you assured me I would not be disappointed. We shall see. However, it seems this man has brought two gifts. What then is the second?”

Crispin looked startled, but quickly recovered his wits. “I believe Dedi wishes to present it personally.”

An excubitor appeared with a lidded basket which he placed at Dedi’s sandals.

Dedi drew himself up. “Here is a wonder to behold, most gracious one. A rare and fine example of a beast many have sought but few have found! That semi-mythical beast, the radish-colored cat.”

There were a few nervous laughs from the onlookers.

“There’s no such thing,” someone remarked too loudly.

“Pliny would surely be amazed,” another voice added.

Crispin directed a furious scowl toward Hektor.

Dedi waited for the murmuring to die down, then opened the basket and extracted a small kitten.

Theodora’s caw of laughter rang out. “You fool! It’s gray!”

Dedi bowed yet again. “But highness, do not radishes turn gray as they age and mould?”

Justinian chuckled as Theodora allowed herself an admiring smile at the magician’s impudence. “You may be lacking in stature, Dedi of Egypt, but you have a lion’s courage!”

Dedi handed the squirming feline to an excubitor.

“A clever gift, and one for which we extend our gracious thanks,” Justinian told Dedi. “And now, as regards the other matter…” His gaze flickered toward Bishop Crispin.

“That was my personal gift to you, excellency,” Dedi replied with another bow. He favored the royal couple with a crooked-toothed smile.

“Then now let us see this artifact of which we have heard so much,” Theodora said firmly. “We trust we will not be disappointed.”

“No true believer will be disappointed,” Dedi replied. “First, however, we must take precautions, for there are wonders that would blind if seen in the light.”

As he spoke attendants began dousing lamps until there remained lit only those suspended from the ceiling. In the smoky haze they glowed dimly, tiny suns glimpsed through fog.

The excubitors stationed near the emperor and empress moved closer, wary of the increased darkness. Felix peered around, alert for trouble.

Two servants hauled a crate to the foot of the throne.

Justinian gestured in Crispin’s direction. “Come forward now and tell us what we are about to witness.”

The bishop made his way with obvious reluctance to Dedi’s side. He looked down at the closed crate with an uncertain expression.

When he spoke his voice trembled, as if with some powerful emotion. “Caesar, my followers and I are blessed to present to you, heaven’s representative on earth, the brazen serpent Moses raised up in the wilderness. Nehushtan!”

With a flourish Dedi slid aside the top of the crate, reached inside, and pulled out a shadowy form.

Fitful light glimmered on loose coils and caught an eye in a withered human visage.

Gasps of awe and terror erupted from the audience.

They fell quickly silent as it became apparent that what the magician held was a stout stick around which coiled a somnolent snake fitted with a blatantly counterfeit human head.

Bishop Crispin turned pale as a few muffled oaths of a decidedly unecclesiastical nature were heard.

Dedi moved the stick back and forth, imparting a semblance of life to the comatose reptile. He grasped the snake under its false head and made it bow to the imperial couple.

Justinian roared with laughter before glancing at Theodora. “We haven’t seen anything so entertaining since that dwarf mime of yours disappeared!”

Theodora rose from her seat. “Who is responsible for this insult?” Her venomous gaze fell on Hektor.

The former court page turned toward Justinian. “Caesar, as you can see, the information I gave you was accurate. There was indeed a threat from Egypt, only it has come to nothing. This Nehushtan is of no use to anyone.”

Justinian, still seated, glanced briefly at Theodora. Then his gaze passed over Hektor as if he were not there and came to rest, instead, on Felix.

“Captain. Execute Hektor immediately.”