by Mary Reed
He pulled his cloak around himself more tightly. Chilly air still managed to get in and nestle next to his ribs.
The boys almost collided with a man emerging from a shop. Obviously a servant, he struggled to carry a huge covered basket. His face registered alarm. He must have thought he was about to be robbed. He sidestepped his supposed attackers too hastily. Suddenly he was down on his back, along with his basket. The portico was immediately bestrewn with hundreds of olives of every conceivable shape and shade of green, as well as light brown and dull black. They went spinning and rolling in all directions. More than one beggar materialized and began scooping up the unexpected bounty.
The servant struggled to his feet and shouted virulent abuse after the boys, who were heedlessly kicking their leather ball across the Mese. One of them turned and made a rude gesture, narrowly avoiding being knocked down by a curtained litter borne by four slaves. He made the same gesture at the slaves, who shouted even worse sentiments back at him.
Anna sighed. “It’s remarkable that children like that live long enough to become adults. Where are their parents? Although I suppose people cannot always keep an eye on their offspring.”
Recalling the young Anatolius’ near fatal adventure, John agreed. He watched the boys as they picked up their ball and disappeared, squabbling noisily, between two buildings.
When he looked back at Anna he was shocked to see she had picked up a large black olive. She wiped it clean on her cloak and popped it into her mouth.
The servant, on his knees hopelessly trying to sweep up the ruined olives, gaped up at her.
“Oh, I do apologize,” Anna told him. “That must have belonged to you. Here, allow me to pay for it.” She produced enough coins to refill the basket twice and handed them to the stunned man.
John and Anna continued on for a short distance, past shops where John and Felix had conducted fruitless interviews. Several beggars, having observed her generosity, now proffered their own stolen olives for sale, but at a glance from John did not press the matter.
The pair walked until they reached the entrance to the Augustaion.
“Perhaps we should return home now, Lady Anna. I’m pleased your father relented and allowed you this little excursion. Might it be best not to worry him by being away too long?”
“Don’t fret about father, John. He’ll never know I was out of the house. In fact, I have a small errand to run. A friend is soon to be married and I’ve given her gift a great deal of thought. I’ve decided to give her a perfume flask engraved with a portrait of Venus. I shall have it filled with rose water.”
“That sounds most appropriate.”
They continued on and before long the incongruously sweet odor of flower gardens filled the cold air. Perfumers were welcome shopkeepers here in the Augustaion. When the wind was in the right quarter, their fragrances would drift into the grounds of the Great Palace.
“Tell me, John, did you ever buy perfume for a woman?”
“No, she was not very fond of perfume.” He stopped abruptly. He had been taken by surprise and answered without thought.
“So there was a woman then?”
John nodded silently.
“I doubt I will ever marry.” Anna sounded more determined than wistful at the prospect, not to mention seemingly unperturbed that she was overstepping the proper boundaries between slave and mistress. “I try to avoid mentioning the subject since the prospect disappoints and distresses my father.”
“Naturally he wishes your happiness.”
“He sometimes appears to think I have no more sense than those unruly boys playing in the street. Dominica visited again yesterday and lectured me on how to conduct myself. She pretended we were having a conversation about art, but it kept returning to her business affairs. Not that she handles details since she employs a steward. But, as she pointed out, one must keep an eye on one’s employees. On the other hand, she kept telling me I wouldn’t need to face these problems because a good husband looks after such tiresome matters, leaving his wife free to pursue her learning and artistic interests.”
Anna’s lips tightened. “More than anything, father seems to fear that if he should die and leave me alone in the world I would be lost. Perhaps it’s because he feels lost without mother. Do you think I would be lost, John?”
“No, Lady Anna,” John replied uncomfortably.
“He insisted I attend a dinner party the other night with Trenico. That is intolerable, wouldn’t you say?”
“It is not for me to venture an opinion.”
Anna laid her hand on his arm. “Wait! Before we go into the perfumer’s shop there’s something I must tell you. The street is one of the few places we won’t run the risk of being overheard.”
She had moved close enough to speak in a whisper. John’s mouth felt suddenly dry and heat rose in his face.
“I heard certain conversations about Justinian during that dinner party,” Anna began. “Some claimed that not all the senators support him, as is commonly believed. What distresses me is that father’s name was mentioned as one of those in opposition. I’m certain it was because he championed Vitalian, but then so did Justinian and the emperor.
I have never heard father utter an ill word against Justinian and despite the wagging tongues, he doesn’t hold secret meetings at home. The only thing he’s plotting is my marriage.” “I am sure you don’t have to worry about your father. He is a man of experience and will take the right course.”
Anna drew away. “You’re right, but it worries me to hear such slanders bandied about. There’s always the chance they’ll reach the wrong ears. But now we’re here, let’s choose that gift.”
Filled with many clashing scents, the perfumer’s shop reminded John of Isis’ house more than a flower garden. Tall cupboards, their doors ajar, displayed alabastrons of assorted sizes, delicate glass flasks, and large bottles of perfume.
An immaculately dressed man with smooth cheeks and a faint hint of lilies about him greeted them in a soft voice.
“May I offer you a sample of our latest import? Our best violet perfume, very refreshing and a delicate scent most suitable for a lovely young woman like yourself. Made with the lightest grade of oil, needless to say. We use only the finest materials for our wares. Or perhaps you might care to try the lily water? It’s very popular with certain ladies at the court.”
Lady Anna declined politely and described her quest.
“A flask engraved with Venus filled with perfume made from her sacred flower? What a charming notion. As it happens, we have just received a shipment of beautiful blue glass flasks.”
The flasks were exquisite, as Anna remarked.
The perfumer looked gratified. “Being situated so close to court we are patronized by many of high birth and we offer only the finest wares. We’re well known, if I may say so, for just that reason.”
“Business must flourish then?” Anna responded politely.
“Indeed it does, and that despite the riots and the new perfumery that’s just opened a few doors down. Owned by a grocer, it seems.” The man sniffed. “What would a grocer know about perfume? I wouldn’t want to wear a scent bought from a seller of cooking oil!”
Anna tactfully agreed. After inspecting a fine array of flasks, she chose one that was elegantly tapered and gave instructions on its engraving. Then the proprietor bowed them out of his emporium with a promise to deliver her purchase as soon as it was engraved. “Filled with the finest rose perfume in the empire, that you can depend upon.” ***
The air outside was invigorating after the heavy atmosphere of the perfumer’s shop. Too long in such a place, John thought, and his reason would begin to reel.
“We need to clear our heads!” Anna said with a slight smile. “Let’s stroll up to the Strategion before we return home and let the sea breezes refresh us.”
Little sign remained of the horrific spectacle
John had recently witnessed
at that location, only a scorched area on the base of the obelisk. The open air market, so recently a slaughterhouse, displayed its usual crowds. The visitors did not seem to linger as long as usual, haggling over their purchases, preferring rather to complete the transaction as soon as possible. Doubtless this was met with favor by those whose tables and stalls held colorful piles of merchandise, since their customers were by and large willing to pay the asking price. John and Anna paused beside the Baths of Actaeon. Its side, facing away from the windswept seawall above the Golden Horn, sheltered several small stalls.
“Buy a beautiful chicken for your evening meal tonight,” a rotund, fresh-faced woman coaxed as
Anna looked at her pile of plump, dimple-skinned fowl. “Fresh from the country this very morning. Killed so recently, if they hadn’t been plucked, they’d fly into your cooking pot! I can tell your lady wife would make a most tasty dish for you and afterward, who knows…?” She gave a knowing smile, holding up a particularly large bird enticingly. Anna blushed. Ignoring the chicken seller’s loud complaints about parsimonious husbands, they moved hastily away and escaped around the corner of the building.
The sight of the baths reminded Anna of her father’s as yet unrepaired bath house. “It is very inconvenient, John. I fear I’m not used to patronizing the public baths and now going there requires three or four bodyguards besides. But the worst aspect of the difficulty is Trenico. He seems to spend half his life at the Baths of Zeuxippos and so insists on constantly giving me advice. Which shops are best, the most interesting lectures, a particular statue of amazing workmanship I must be sure to see, that sort of thing. And all the while staring at me as if he’s seeing me in the baths clothed with nothing more than steam. It’s all most improper.”
But not nearly as improper as a lady addressing a slave in such a manner, John thought.
At the seawall they looked down over the docks where ships sat at anchor, each vessel attached to an inverted twin beneath it.
“Do you ever long to sail away and never return to Constantinople?” Anna suddenly asked. “If you could, I mean. The city must hold some very bad memories for you.”
“Other places hold worse.” John feared this was a prelude to another inappropriate conversation.
Instead, Anna asked, “Can chickens fly?”
John could do nothing but look at her in silence.
“The woman back there said the chickens might fly into our cooking pot, but I can’t imagine a chicken would be much of a flier from what I’ve seen of their wings. That’s after the cook has finished preparing them, I’ll admit.”
“They can fly a few wing-flaps if necessary. In order to escape a predator, for example.”
“So they take to the air only from necessity?” Anna’s tone was thoughtful. “Well, they are merely chickens, after all. And speaking of birds, I’ve just realized we’re not far from the home of my friend Avis. He’s the inventor I may have mentioned now and then. We’ll go and visit him now. The wings he’s working on strike me as vastly superior to any chicken’s wings.”
Shouting broke out on the docks below.
Intrigued, Anna leaned alarmingly out over the wall and stared down. “It’s some of the Gourd’s men. They’re dragging someone by his legs along the dock.” She was indignant. “Poor thing, I wonder what he did to incur their wrath? Nothing at all probably.”
John stared down at the growing knot of dock workers who had abandoned their labors to stand around and gape at the scene.
Two men were hauling the unfortunate man over the back of a waiting mule. He hung limply, hands and feet brushing the ground. As the Prefect’s men urged the animal toward the nearest stairway, it passed directly below John and Anna and John got a clear view of their captive.
It was Viator. At least he would not have to face the Gourd’s wrath. He was dead.
***
Lady Anna arrived home to find Trenico waiting in the atrium.
“Let me help you with your cloak, Anna,” he said.
She shrugged away his outstretched hand. Whenever Trenico was near those perfectly manicured hands hovered around her constantly, returning no matter how many times she brushed them off, as insistently annoying as a pair of flies.
“It’s all right, Trenico, thank you.”
“I can tell you’ve been to a perfumer’s. The scents cling to your hair. The perfumes I gave you don’t please?” He displayed a theatrical frown.
“I was choosing a gift for a friend.” She remained in the atrium, hoping Trenico would leave and go about his business yet knowing he would not since she was his real business. “You’re here to see father?”
“And you. Yes, I just arrived. So, who is this friend of yours? A mutual acquaintance? What is the occasion?”
“You don’t know her, Trenico. She’s getting married soon. That’s something I will never do, as I was just telling John. He’s just gone back to the palace now I am safely home.”
“Your tutor? I would hope you had more of an escort than that, Anna, considering what almost happened to your father the other day.”
“To hear the way people go on about that, you would think it was father who died rather than poor Dorotheus,” Anna snapped.
“I just don’t like to think of you out on those dangerous streets with only a eunuch for protection. Your father told me he had forbidden you to go out unless you had at least three servants to guard you. I would have been happy to do so too if you wished.” A hand alit for an instant on her arm then departed. “It’s fortunate you didn’t run into difficulties.”
“We only saw a dead man.”
“You’re jesting?” He looked at her, seeking confirmation.
“No, Trenico. John and I observed a corpse being carried off the docks by the Gourd’s men.”
“The docks? You were at the docks? A lady, and without a proper bodyguard?” Trenico looked shocked.
“In fact, we observed from the seawall so we were not actually on the docks. As to the other matter, John is quite capable of protecting me and I feel perfectly safe with him, Trenico.”
“Anna, I must disagree. Your attitude toward this slave is quite improper. He’s become your pet, I realize that, but still…I’ll buy you a dove. That would be much more suitable as a companion. Or if you want—”
Trenico broke off. Opimius had emerged from his office.
“Trenico,” Opimius said. “There you are. I thought you were late for our discussion. I see you’ve just been detained by my daughter.”
His fond smile at them made Anna feel resentful.
“Why don’t you both join me in my office?” Opimius suggested. “I’ll have some refreshments brought, something warming.” He beamed.
Anna began to unclasp her cloak. “No, thank you, father. I’m sure you have business to transact.” She fixed Trenico in her gaze. “Besides, I would prefer other company right now.”
Chapter Twenty
John appeared at Senator Opimius’ house next morning, prepared to continue with Lady Anna’s instruction. She surprised him by hurrying out of the servants’ entrance before he could rap on the door.
“John. There’s someone I want you to meet. We’ll go immediately.” She was shrouded in a heavy cloak.
“At this early hour, Lady Anna?”
“Who knows when we’ll have another chance? Now, you recall the man I mentioned yesterday, Avis? The inventor? I had intended for us to visit him then, but of course we were distracted by that poor, dead man on the docks. Avis is the person we’re going to see.”
When John queried her about the reason for the unexpected excursion, Anna grew mysterious. He finally had to remind himself that it was not a slave’s place to question orders given by his mistress, however flighty her apparent whim.
Anna did however expound on Avis’ eccentric living arrangements as she led the way north along a wide thoroughfare that opened into a plaza near the Prosphorion harbor. It was th
e time of morning when the stark cries of circling seabirds had not yet been overcome by the rush and roar of humanity.
A path, so narrow that it could not be called an alley, ran between two warehouses facing the plaza. It led to the dwelling of Avis.
The brick sides of the four-story, octagonal tower were blank for the first three levels. A row of enormous windows circled the final floor. When lamps were lit inside at night the conical-roofed structure resembled a lighthouse. Constantinople-born mariners, noting a more earthy resemblance, had given the tower an obscene nickname which Lady Anna thought best not to mention to her companion.
She repeated, instead, its less scurrilous name. “They call this Avis’ lantern,” she smiled. “It’s said that local sailors do not consider themselves truly home unless they can see its light from their ships.”
John observed that its owner must have an inexhaustible supply of lamp oil.
“I don’t know about that, but Avis is a night bird. He tends to work until dawn, so his lamps are lit almost as dependably as those of a real lighthouse.”
“Then surely he won’t be up this early?”
Lady Anna smiled. “I am hoping we’ll catch him before he retires for the day.”
From the base of the tower a staircase snaked up and around its sides to a platform perched in front of a door. The sound of birds singing and whistling reached their ears.
“A tower seems a strange place to keep an aviary,” John observed as they climbed the creaking, splintered, wooden stairs. An updraft of wind from the docks below the seawall carried his words away into the leaden sky.
“At first glance, perhaps.” Anna rapped at the door, which was opened almost immediately by the owner of the tower and provider of illumination to mariners.
“My dear lady! Such a pleasant surprise! How delightful! If you could just get inside quickly.” Avis waved a hand, gently shooing back a sparrow heading toward freedom.
John and Anna stepped quickly into a whitewashed room and Avis closed the door against the wind and smell of the sea.
“Who is your handsome friend. Lady Anna?” Avis asked. “A man with some taste and imagination, no doubt.”
