Four for a Boy

by Mary Reed

“You have sharp eyes. Let’s hope we can get to him before he escapes too.”

  Felix’s pessimism was unfounded. The observer suddenly emerged, and briskly greeted them.

  “I am Theophylaktos, sirs. I happened to notice your fruitless pounding on my neighbor’s door. I would be most pleased to assist if I can.”

  At closer range the man still had the look of a shadow cast by a guttering flame. He was bundled up in an overly bulky cloak and as he talked he continuously bobbed his head, first at Felix, then John, while rubbing his hands briskly together. His features never seemed entirely to emerge from shadow.

  “We seek to interview Viator and his son,” Felix said grimly.

  “Indeed?” Theophylaktos drifted to the edge of the seawall and looked down over it. John and Felix followed.

  “This is much the same view as from my windows, sirs. This afternoon one of my servants was wasting time staring down at the docks. ‘What is so interesting that you’re neglecting your duties?’ I asked him. Then I saw Victor being chased into his father’s warehouse and thought to myself, ahah, that boy is in real trouble now. And so after you left I kept watch just to see what happened next.”

  “I can understand your curiosity,” Felix remarked.

  “We get all sorts of ne’er-do-wells around here, being right next to the docks,” their informant replied. “It’s a good location for me, though, since I’m a ship owner. My vessel casts off for Egypt at dawn tomorrow. May the Lord send good weather.”

  “Your cargo on that particular ship wouldn’t happen to include Viator and his son would it?”

  The question sent Theophylaktos into a frenzy of hand wringing. “Certainly not,” he said faintly.

  “Do you have any information concerning the two men we’re seeking?” John put in.

  “I was getting to that. I apologize for rambling. Wasting your time, I know, sirs. That won’t do. Time is short whenever official business is concerned. Even the candles burn faster. Yes, Viator and I are good friends.”

  “Have you seen either of them since late this afternoon?”

  “Oh, yes! Indeed I have. That’s what I was going to tell you. I happened to be looking out of my window at the very instant they came out of their house. They were carrying a couple of small bags. It was so soon after you departed, I’m surprised they didn’t trip over your boot heels.”

  “They could have been going to buy something at the market,” Felix suggested artfully.

  “But what are servants for if not to go to the market? No, I believe they were going off on a trip. They were definitely dressed for travel.”

  “In addition to being observant, you are a man of logic,” Felix said. “I couldn’t argue with your reasoning, even if it were possible for me get a word in.”

  “Viator would not agree, I fear. He had no faith at all in anything I said, despite my own modest success in business. For example, I tried to warn him when he showed me a contract some while ago. It was with a senator, but I noticed it wasn’t properly signed. I told him I thought this might raise problems later. He wouldn’t listen. Said it was a favor for a friend. Then just as I predicted, an argument arose about the quality of the goods he supplied. The last I heard there was talk about a law suit.”

  John and Felix exchanged glances as the garrulous ship owner rattled on. “Now, I happen to know Viator is in financial straits right now. Taxes, for one thing. Then there was that shipment of marble that sank only last month. Some said it was no accident, yet how can a storm be conjured up at will? Then, too, he was worried about his son running wild. Very sad.”

  As Theophylaktos spoke his gaze wandered, from John to Felix, then to the warehouse below, from it to his ship. Even once or twice up toward the night sky.

  “You say you’re a friend of Viator’s?” Felix asked

  “Yes, and friends watch out for their friends. Especially given the current state of affairs. This reminds me, Viator told me he thought he was being followed around. I advised him that there are always hordes of people surging about the docks. He was uneasy. I think Hypatius’ death was very much on his mind.”

  “Did he know Hypatius?” John asked with interest.

  Theophylaktos rubbed his hands together so vigorously John could hear the palms rasp against each other. It reminded him of the rustling of dry leaves blown down a lane as summer died.

  “Indeed he did! That was another example of his lack of business acumen. Hypatius was a very good friend of his. Or was, until he cheated Viator out of a great deal of money even though Hypatius knew Viator’s finances were stretched. I’m not certain of the details. Now I suppose it will never be resolved.”

  He drew a breath and looked back toward his house, down at the roof of the warehouse, and then finally at John and Felix.

  “So I suppose it was natural he got it into his head that he was suspected of Hypatius’ murder. When you arrived this afternoon, well, you can see he would prefer to make himself scarce. That explains why his son has disappeared too. In the circumstances, you wouldn’t want to leave any of your family behind either.”

  It was with some difficulty that John and Felix managed to separate themselves from the verbal clutches of the excessively helpful ship owner. The men recruited to apprehend the vanished fugitives lounged on the other side of the street, their impatience poorly concealed.

  “I’m afraid Viator’s neighbor is confused. It’s the son who’s suspected of murder, not the father,” Felix remarked to John in an undertone.

  “Unless Viator incited his son to do it. If the son really is the culprit.”

  “Either way, unfortunately, we have to return to the Gourd with empty hands.”

  “I must say I am not looking forward to that.”

  Felix laughed mirthlessly. “Then I suggest that you contemplate instead the wine which we will doubtless require to revive ourselves immediately afterward.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You know you’re welcome here, Felix, no matter what the hour! However, since you’ll be venturing back onto dark streets I insist you partake a little bit less of my hospitality than you did last time.”

  Isis gave the excubitor a stern look. Nevertheless she refilled his wine cup. Turning to John, seated on a low stool by her couch, she continued. “Felix has a good heart. He once saved one of my girls from—”

  “We don’t need to talk about that, Isis,” Felix interrupted. “Your kindness since, and the kindness of your girls, has more than repaid me!” Isis said no more, but gave Felix a fond pat on his knee.

  “There’s something going on that we don’t know about,” Felix complained. “But what?”

  “Is that why you’re here? To discuss business?” Isis began to pare an apple with a dainty silver knife.

  “Actually, yes, Isis. I certainly don’t want to discuss this in the barracks. The streets are far too cold and the prospect of sitting whispering in a corner of a tavern doesn’t appeal to me.”

  Isis lowered kohl-blackened eyelids thoughtfully. “There’s a service I hadn’t considered selling before. Offering gentlemen a discreet meeting place to discuss delicate matters.” She popped a sliver of apple into her mouth. “In this city there’s a market for everything. Why, a fellow approached me today wanting to supply my establishment with young boys. A lucrative trade, no doubt, but one I refuse to engage in.”

  The single lamp on the ivory inlaid table between the couches on which Isis and Felix reclined cast a pool of light that glinted off a silver bowl, gold embroidery on a pillow, and the varnished panther feet of the couches.

  “You have done very well for yourself, without resorting to such things,” remarked John.

  Isis smiled. “Constantinople is a city where even the humblest can rise to great glory. “

  “That’s true,” said Felix. “Look at Justin for a start.”

  “And Theodora,” Isis reminded him. “From actress to empress.”

 
“She’s not empress quite yet and there are those who seek to prevent it happening,” Felix pointed out. “A common whore, they call her. Not fit to be Justinian’s wife.”

  Isis looked offended. “I’ve heard that as well. It’s an ignorant opinion. Theodora was never a common whore. She was an actress and a mime. She didn’t cavort among the audience. She performed on stage. Her favors weren’t for sale to the common rabble, but only by special arrangement with men of refinement.” She waved her silver fruit knife for emphasis. “Now take Euphemia, or rather Lupicina. There’s a whore’s name if I ever heard one. She was one of those untalented little girls who work sweaty crowds. Why do you think she hated Theodora so much?”

  “Constantinople is certainly a city of endless opportunity,” said John. “One day you’re fighting with a mongrel in the gutter for a bone, the next you’re supping on peacock with the Patriarch.”

  “Not when you fail at even a simple task such as we have been set,” replied Felix dolefully.

  “I’m certain even Justinian has failed at something, some time or other,” Isis observed.

  “And whether we’ve truly failed depends on what we’re really meant to accomplish.” John hesitated, uncertain whether he should discuss such matters in front of an Egyptian madam he had met only on one previous occasion.

  “Go on,” Felix told him. “Isis is absolutely trustworthy. You can rely on her discretion.”

  “I should think so,” Isis retorted. “It’s vital in my profession!”

  “Very well,” John said. “In short, a one-eyed man can see we’ve been planted as spies in the Gourd’s office. Deliberately obvious spies.”

  “That’s right!” Felix responded. “What use are our investigations? Why should these powerful men we’ve been interviewing tell us anything? They deny anything inconvenient and meantime must be finding it very humorous to send us off to bark at some rival or other. Doubtless they think it’s a wonderful jest. No, what I’m certain our masters really want is for us to keep an eye on the Gourd.”

  “And they want the Gourd to be aware we’re keeping an eye on him. Not only that, since we had specific instructions to continue our usual duties, in my case tutoring Lady Anna, I expect to be grilled about the senator’s household in due course.”

  “Not to mention we are also supposed to be keeping an eye on each other.” Felix grinned.

  Isis dropped her knife onto the table and made a show of throwing up her plump hands. “I’m glad I’m not in your business. At least I have a pretty good notion of what my patrons are after! Your suspicions are probably correct, though. Justinian has always been fond of informers. It was an informer of his who introduced him to Theodora. Macedonia, a dancer for the Blues. Normally Macedonia would pass on to Justinian names of those who might pose a threat to him. Remarkable how loose men’s tongues can be when they’re seeking to impress a woman. She met Theodora in Antioch, or so the story goes.”

  “Why would this Macedonia have introduced Theodora to Justinian?” Felix wondered.

  “Perhaps Macedonia thought Theodora would make a good informer herself. Or maybe it was because Theodora was such a strong supporter of the Blues, like Justinian. Or maybe it was because of that dream Theodora had.”

  “What dream is that, Isis? Excubitors don’t hear all the gossip you do.”

  “Theodora told Macedonia she dreamt she journeyed to Constantinople. There she met the Lord of the Demons who took her to his bed and subsequently showered her with endless wealth.”

  “I see.” Felix frowned. “I never have these portentous dreams, myself.”

  Isis chuckled. “Maybe you’re not destined for greatness. What sort of dreams do you have, John?”

  “None that I remember when I awake, Isis.”

  Felix stared down into his wine cup. “At any rate, I can’t say we’re doing very well as informers. We’ve learned nothing useful about the Gourd. He doesn’t seem to be taking much warning from our presence, either. Look at that magick business the other night.”

  Isis leaned forward, her eyes glittering with interest. “That little act of his has certainly been much talked about. One of my girls entertained a gentleman who was present at that dinner party. He was so amazed, he took longer to relate the tale than he did to conduct his business.”

  Felix looked uneasy. “I didn’t see it myself, you understand, but John here has a keen eye for detail, I’ll say that. What he described would certainly convince many that the Gourd is an adept. Doubtless they’d wonder what else he can do. Conjure up demons? Spirit men away in a whorl of mist? He’d like you to think he has eyes everywhere. It’s excellent strategy, I admit. You can’t fight that sort of fear.”

  “True enough,” John said, “but I can tell you exactly how he worked his little trick.”

  Felix looked at him in amazement. “How would you know about magick?”

  “Not magick,” John corrected him. “A trick. I know because for a while I traveled with a group of entertainers and sometimes we worked with other adepts.”

  “You have some talent, then?” Isis asked.

  John shook his head. “No, but travelers like that often band together. Passing through Egypt we were joined for a time by a man who went by the name of Baba. He would set up a table and do magick tricks before we put on our show. There were always a number of coins tossed his way. I don’t know if people were paying for his entertainment or because they feared him. One of Baba’s most spectacular feats was to plunge his arm into a vat of boiling pitch.”

  “Just like the Gourd did!” Felix exclaimed.

  “Exactly. But the trick is that the pitch isn’t actually boiling. Baba added vinegar and a particular type of soda. The mixture bubbles when it’s warmed so it looks as if it’s scalding hot. I am sure that’s exactly how the Gourd fooled his aristocratic audience.”

  Felix looked at John in disbelief. “That’s all it was? A handful or two of common ingredients has the whole city cowering?”

  “For the time being perhaps. The Gourd may yet overreach himself, just as Baba did. He wasn’t content with coins, you understand. He wanted to see people terrified, prostrating themselves in the dust. There’s bronze coins to be had from boiling pitch, but there’s gold in terror, he would say. So one night he decided to conjure up a fiery, airborne demon. It was really a bird soaked in a flammable mixture, set on fire and released by a troupe member he had bribed. The poor creature flew straight into a pile of straw and nearly burnt the village to the ground. So I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the Gourd releases his own fiery demon in the wrong direction sooner or later.”

  Felix stood up. John was relieved to see the excubitor would be able to return to the barracks unaided.

  “A fascinating story indeed, John,” Felix said. “And I say let’s hope Gourd sets fire to his own roof before he burns down the city.”

  ***

  Theodotus peered over Theodora’s shoulder toward the alcove at the rear of the smoky room and raised his voice. “I am Prefect of this city! By what authority do you prevent me from speaking to Justinian?”

  “By what authority do you seek to impose on him?”

  “The emperor suggested—”

  “Justinian cannot entertain visitors this morning. He is too ill. But you know that, don’t you?” In contrast to the Prefect’s loud tones, Theodora’s voice was soft. No louder than the whisper of a blade slipping from its scabbard.

  “I must discuss the matter of this eunuch he’s saddled me with! I’ve already complained to the emperor about his man, the German excubitor. The pair of them are interfering with my duties. Justin ordered me to talk to Justinian.”

  “Was it Justin who ordered you, or the quaestor Proclus?”

  Theodotus clenched his fists. In the dimly illuminated room, he might have been a deformed demon, every bit the horror that more than one potential malefactor feared meeting in a dark alley.

  Theodora took a step fo
rward. “What is it you managed to slip to Justinian? How have you accomplished this filthy deed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is that the real purpose of your visit? Did you hope for an opportunity to administer a new dose of poison?”

  “Poison? Ridiculous! When could I have possibly poisoned Justinian?”

  “A magician is capable of many things. Perhaps the poison was borne here on a spell. You showed yourself as quite an adept the other evening.”

  Theodotus shifted his feet. He had to restrain himself from pushing past the woman. “I thought you enjoyed my little display, Theodora.”

  “I did. It delighted me to see how convincing you were. It was a very nice act indeed.”

  “You should know about acting!”

  Theodora gave a throaty laugh. “I do. I have a professional’s keen eye and skepticism. However, you certainly convinced the rest of your guests, which is the important thing. You see, what you obviously overlooked in giving that little demonstration of yours is that they’ll all be convinced that a man with such powers would have no trouble at all in poisoning a future emperor, no

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sky was so clear it might have been blown glass, but the cold still kept most city residents off the streets. Those who lived on them, beggars huddled in sheltered corners along the Mese, didn’t even extend grimy hands toward John and Anna as they passed.

  Perhaps, John thought, the cold numbing their ill-clothed bodies also froze their spirits. When every day was much like another and each had to be devoted to struggling to survive, it made men old before their time. After a time, old men lost interest in life.

  Perhaps Dorotheus had been right in his dismissal of freedom.

  John glanced at two boys playing kick ball in a portico. Perhaps because they had not matured enough to realize what lay ahead, such children lived only for the day. With each sunrise came the renewed hope that they might be given a crust of bread, or find a largely unrotted cabbage in the gutter or contrive to steal a fish from a shop. John envied them their hope.