“Is that all? I hope so. Nevertheless, I want to know if he’s been approached by anyone from the factions. He’s a highly respected man and very influential, when he wants to be.”
Haik stared at the guttering flame of the lamp. “John, if you’re going to be asking Porphyrius about his visitors, I know of one he will probably mention. Myself.”
John looked at his friend in surprise.
“You traveled here to see Porphyrius?”
Haik shook his head. “No. Not at all. I have business in the city, as I said. But Porphyrius spent years racing in Antioch. I knew him in passing. I just wanted to pay my respects.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, I hardly spoke to him. We were interrupted by a visitor.”
“You did speak, however.”
“Yes. I’m thinking of expanding my business. I won’t bore you with the details. Nothing was settled anyway. I didn’t think to visit him until the day before those botched executions. You know the state the city’s been in since then. He hasn’t been able to see me again.”
“You say the meeting was about business.”
“It’s a new venture. And, Porphyrius is respected in Antioch too. I thought he might put in a good word for me. I see you disapprove. You’re thinking your old military friend has turned into just another conniving businessman. What can I say? Once a mercenary, always a mercenary.”
Chapter Nineteen
The woman peered over the low brick parapet. From the tenement roof she could see into the Augustaion. Tongues of fire outlined the Great Church. The leaping, flickering red light revealed dozens of men and women howling and dancing in obscene drunken delight. Shrill screams resounded across the square, littered with broken and spoilt goods from nearby shops which had been forced open and pillaged.
She had seen thieves dart into the burning church and emerge, coughing and retching, clutching treasures which flashed in the firelight. They vanished into the warren of alleys beyond, to whatever life gold and silver would buy in a world that seemed to be coming to an end.
The woman behind the parapet was more interested in the group of men clustered in the alley below. They had pursued her. She had managed to escape their forceful attentions, but for how much longer?
As if in reply came a hoarse shout from above. She looked up toward the roof of the adjoining building which leaned crazily over her temporary sanctuary, nearly touching the timbers she stood on. She saw the dark outline of a figure against the night sky.
“They will not harm any green thing!” cried the figure.
The woman wept with fear and crouched lower, shrinking into the shadow of the parapet.
The hoarse-voiced man continued to shout over the background noise-screams of pain, and the dull roar of men drunk on stolen wine and violence.
“I tell you they won’t harm any of them! Success is assured! Why are not the armies of the righteous storming the gates of the palace?”
There was a brief pause and then a lower pitched voice, still strong enough to carry to the woman, replied. “Greens, Blues, what does it matter who they are? They just need a strong leader. Someone not afraid to confront the demon emperor!”
She could not see the other man.
“I am here to do that! And I see-” The first speaker moved suddenly. The woman flinched. She thought he was leaping down toward her. Instead he lurched sideways, landed at the very corner of the building and tottered on the edge. “I see necklaces of fire cleansing the city of its filth! Hear the sinners scream!”
“Is it as foretold?” asked the other.
The reply was uttered in a weary tone. “No. The horsemen, the four horsemen are overdue. Ah, but did you ever see Porphyrius race? Now there’s a man who’s won me many a wager. How the women love him! I’ve often wished I were a charioteer.”
Fearful as she was, the woman continued to stare upwards, intrigued. Who were these men, conversing as if they were at a social gathering while the city burnt round them?
Now they appeared to be discussing horses.
“The Greens raced several chestnut horses last week,” one observed. “Red horses…it was an omen of peace departing. I said so at the time. Porphyrius just laughed, the great fool. There’s always strife, he said, and especially when we Greens are winning. Why, he even said I should contribute a bag of silver coins toward his expenses, as if I hadn’t contributed more than most of the faction to ensure the team’s victory!”
A quieter voice answered, pointing out that a greater victory hung in the balance.
“The horsemen are late! Where is the black horse carrying the man with the scales?” The speaker’s voice rose into a shriek. “Where is death, riding a pale horse with hell following? Hell is here already! Where-”
A hand fastened on the woman’s shoulder. She screamed.
One of the men in the alley must have guessed where she had gone and made his way up the tenement’s staircase while her attention was diverted.
She jerked away with the strength of desperation, raking the leering face with her nails. She jumped to her feet, ran across the timbers, and clambered up onto the overhanging roof where the two men had been talking.
She had no way of knowing if they were different than the men who pursued her. They couldn’t be worse.
The ragged figure perched at the corner of the building took no notice of her. She stumbled and scrambled over to him on her hands and knees. She saw her assailant pulling himself up onto the roof.
She clutched the ragged man’s leg and begged him for protection.
“A scarlet woman! An abomination!” the invisible speaker proclaimed.
“Away with her!” shouted the man whose leg she was holding.
The woman had time to realize there had been but one person on the roof before the bloody, ragged man grasped her by the waist and threw her over the edge.
Chapter Twenty
January 14, 532
The dull red ember of the mid-morning sun glowed through the smoky haze as John hurried through the gardens to meet the emperor. A light snow of ash fell continuously out of the thick overcast. It had been falling all night. Ash partially covered the marble walkway. Bands of men ran back and forth hauling buckets of water from ornamental ponds and fountain basins, dousing small fires smoldering in the bushes.
A grim faced silentiary ushered John through a series of antechambers leading into a private meeting room above the Augusteus. John tried to brush ashes from his cloak. His fingers made grey streaks across the dark blue fabric. The imperial couple stood at a high narrow window, the shutters of which had been partially opened despite the cold. Seeing Theodora, John prostrated himself in accordance with court protocol, as enforced by the empress.
Justinian ordered him to stand, sounding irritated by the necessity of doing so. “Report on my guests.”
“All three are under guard at my house, Caesar.”
“We are glad to hear it,” Theodora put in. “Your personal safety depends upon keeping them unharmed.”
“They have had no visitors?” Justinian asked.
“No. Do you wish me to bar visitors?”
“It would be more useful if you reported any immediately,” Justinian said. “We need to find out who, exactly, is behind all this.”
John followed the direction of the emperor’s gaze. What he saw through the window shocked him. Of the Baths of Zeuxippus, only a single charred wall remained. Where the Chalke gate should have been were mountainous piles of rubble. Chunks of masonry lay scattered like enormous boulders. In places smoke and flames issued from the bleak landscape. Beyond the remains of the Chalke, across the open space of the Augustaion, the timber roof of the Great Church blazed. The walls of the long rectangular building remained standing, but John realized this was a temporary condition. One of the portico’s supporting columns already lay shattered across the square.