“Stay here, highness, and I fear you’ll be buried in purple,” Narses observed.
“Purple makes the best shroud.” Theodora put her hand on Justinian’s arm. “If the empire’s existence depends upon the safety of our beloved ruler, then by all means let him leave, and leave now. But I wish to remain.”
“I cannot allow that,” Justinian replied. “Let us go. We can discuss our next actions once we are safely at sea.”
***
A covered walkway connecting a series of stairways between the terraces on which the palace gardens were built led to the imperial docks. John accompanied the emperor and empress, along with several silentiaries recruited in the halls. As the small party started down the first stairway Justinian gave John instructions. “Once we’re safely on board, return and assist Narses. I want as many ships as possible loaded with our belongings. Don’t forget the imperial plate.”
John noted that neither he nor Narses, ordered to remain in the Daphne Palace to make final arrangements, were invited to flee with them. “And Belisarius and Mundus?” he asked.
“They are to leave for Heraclea as soon as possible. The contingents they brought with them are not large enough to subdue the city. In Heraclea the generals will be able to take control of both armies and return to put down the riots. Once on board, I will issue written orders for you to take to them.”
“I am not a soldier,” said Theodora. “I am barred by my sex from that profession. Yet it seems to this woman that a thousand trained men should be able to crush any number of rabble, if they are ordered to do so.”
“And how can you be certain my generals wouldn’t be as likely to cut my throat as follow my order?” Justinian replied mildly.
Were Justinian’s fears well founded, John wondered.
As he descended the stairs he felt he was once again in the strange dream garden where he had met Haik’s shade. The stairways felt unfamiliar now that they were leading not just to the docks, but to another world. A world where Justinian no longer occupied the palace. Where would that leave John?
The thought occurred to him that his investigation was finished. He would never discover what had happened to the mysterious adoption document Haik brought to the city. It was hardly worth mulling over at this point, but John couldn’t help thinking about the document. Was it the reason he was helping usher Justinian into exile? Had it, in some manner, sealed the emperor’s fate? Had it convinced Porphyrius to rally the populace to Hypatius? Why not? Porphyrius once rallied the crowds to Hypatius’ uncle, Emperor Anastasius. It might not have taken much to convince the charioteer to side with the family again. He changed racing colors like rich men changed tunics.
Had the document also, perhaps, convinced Belisarius to abandon Justinian, or given him a pretext to do so? How much pretext would an ambitious man need? Who could argue that conspiring to make a Persian heir to the Empire was not traitorous? Porphyrius might have approached Belisarius with the damning agreement and offered his own support at the same time.
It was all speculation and would remain so now.
The party reached the next terrace, another step down toward exile. Behind them loomed a high masonry wall, overhung with greenery and lined at its base with trees and shrubbery. The gardens narrowed here and before long they could see the waist high parapet marking the edge of the terrace.
The path to the stairway led through an arbor surrounded by ornamental bushes and shrouded by thick ropes of leafless vines.
As they passed into the semi-shadow John thought he heard a rustling sound. He turned his head. There was no one following them aside from the trailing guard.
He heard a sort of crunch nearby. John peered over the shoulders of the imperial couple. The path ahead was as clear as that behind.
A tiny bit of bark drifted down onto his sleeve. John looked up. The thickly entwined vines overhead were trembling almost imperceptibly.
Someone was moving stealthily along the top of the arbor.
Justinian and Theodora had reached the end of the arbor.
There was no time for a warning. John sprang forward, past the imperial couple, and as he did so, the toe of a boot appeared at the edge of roof. John leapt, caught the intruder’s foot, and brought him crashing to the ground.
The intruder rolled and sprang to his feet. John saw a dark, hunched creature in rags. The demon he had pursued along the spina in the Hippodrome.
“I crave an audience!” cried the demon.
John drew his blade. Justinian laughed and waved him and the guards back. “How could I refuse such an ingenious petitioner?” He smiled at his unexpected visitor. “Speak before you are put to death.”
The demon took a few lurching steps. The rags it wore appeared to be half burnt and ashes speckled its wild hair. It carried with it the sharp odor of smoke. “I have already conquered death and I shall do so again, and therefore I have no fear of dying! But you, my emperor, I see have a great fear of death. Surely you realize that wherever you go, no matter how far across the seas, you will find death waiting.”
“True enough, but your death is much closer at hand. Why do you desire an audience?”
“To tell you how you may be saved.”
An expression of interest crossed Justinian’s face. “Are you here on behalf of your fellow rioters?”
“I bring a message from heaven.”
Theodora laughed contemptuously. “From heaven? You’re the first angel I’ve ever encountered who smells like he’s been smoldering in hell!”
“Not so!” responded the visitor. “For I have seen demons roaming the streets of Constantinople! They are leading loyal subjects astray, whispering lies about our rulers! Encouraging them to kill the old and crown the new!”
John thought it strange that such a demonic creature should be speaking against demons. Yet, peering closely, he could almost make out the features of the young man the thing had once been.
The creature turned its bloodshot gaze to Justinian. “Peace will return, excellency, but to achieve that you must banish the demons.”
“Do you mean by magick?” Theodora asked with obvious interest.
“Not just common magick. Magick far more powerful!” The creature reached into the tattered fabric at its chest and drew out a length of splintered wood with a ribbon dangling from it. “This is a piece of the True Cross! What miracles can be wrought with such a relic! It will banish evil and heal the sick and raise the dead! Am I not a living example?”
Justinian regarded him with an even gaze. “You say you’ve been dead?”
“Oh yes. I was foully murdered. But in heaven we forgive our enemies, so I bring you this….” The creature bent, laid the splintered piece of wood at Justinian’s red boots, and backed slowly away.
Justinian gestured to John to pick up the object. It was cylindrical, with a piece of shredded ribbon from which hung an embossed lead disk.
“A broken spoke from a wheel, probably a chariot wheel,” John said, turning the object around. “And there’s an imperial seal attached to it.”
Theodora leaned over to examine the seal. “Anastasius!” she cried. “It’s one of Anastasius’ seals!” She glared at the ragged creature now slowly creeping backwards. “You’re from the conspirators! You’re one of the traitors!”
Justinian had taken the peculiar talisman from John and was regarding it pensively. “The Lord is free to send whatever sort of messenger he wants. What could be more persuasive than a message authenticated with an imperial seal? In simpler times a burning bush might have sufficed. It may be this is what a miracle looks like in our present age. A spoke from a wheel…or perhaps a piece of the True Cross? Is not our empire being crucified on a cross made by the racing factions? Clearly, the Lord has spoken. We shall stay. Victory will not be given to the mob. It will be ours!”