“Yes. I suppose that’s what he thinks.” Gaius’ pouched eyes narrowed and his broad face reddened to match the color of his bulbous nose. “Unless he suddenly concludes I used the wrong formula, forgot the rhubarb or acacia juice, or didn’t prescribe enough, or did so at the wrong intervals. In which case, Mithra help me.”
“You said she might have taken medications prepared by someone other than yourself?”
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t. Antonina used to make cosmetics for Theodora. I think she had resumed as a gesture of friendship. Not that Theodora had any use for cosmetics in her state. She may have prepared and sent painkillers. The ladies-in-waiting used to bring gifts for the empress from various people. It wasn’t any business of mine.”
Gaius took another gulp of wine. He licked his lips nervously.
“You couldn’t dictate what was brought into Theodora’s room, Gaius. No one would expect it of you. Others spent much more time with her than you did.”
“Yes, I hope Justinian sees it that way. It’s very foolish accepting preparations from people not trained as physicians. Mistakes are easy to make and beyond that, how do they know the person preparing something to be taken or applied hasn’t been bribed to poison it? Anyone can obtain poison. It’s possible to grow deadly plants anywhere. I have a few in my herb garden here on the palace grounds. I grow them to supply material for the preparations I prescribe. Some plants are like Janus, two-faced. The same ones can be used for good or ill, to kill or cure.”
“Indeed.”
“Take belladonna, for example. A tiny amount will bring about death, yet it’s useful for treating headaches and women’s problems. Or how about henbane? A very good painkiller if used in appropriate fashion, but otherwise a person taking too much will soon be beyond the reach of bodily pangs. By all means imbibe a quantity of hemlock if you want to leave the world, yet I also prescribe it to treat disorders of the skin.”
“Your garden is accessible to anyone who cared to visit at night to gather certain plants in secret,” John observed.
“Yes, it is. Hypatia tends to it. She occasionally makes herbal preparations for me, so she too may well come under suspicion. It’s probably best she’s under your protection, so far as any of us can protect anyone or ourselves.”
John had not considered Hypatia might also be in danger. Was there anyone in the city who was not, one way or another? He scanned the room. “A poisoner wouldn’t necessarily have to be an herbalist,” he pointed out. “He could steal whatever he needed from your shelves “
“True,” Gaius set down his jar. His hand trembled uncontrollably. “And just about everything here could be fatal given in the wrong amount.”
“Including your cure for anxiety about the fate of the empire,” John tapped Gaius’ empty jar.
“Quite right, John. But can you blame me?”
There was a shouted order from the hallway.
“This way!”
Gaius leapt up at the loud thumping of what could only be several men wearing military boots running down the corridor.
An excubitor appeared in the doorway.
He continued past, followed by five others in a hurry.
As their footsteps receded John’s gaze turned to Gaius, and to the shelf upon which the physician’s hand rested. Gaius’ fingertips were almost touching a tiny green glass bottle.
John gave his friend a questioning look.
“For pain,” Gaius said.
“It’s poison, isn’t it?”
“To avoid the pain that can be inflicted by the imperial torturers. I am only too familiar with the unspeakable agony a human body can be made to feel. A devilish hand assisted in creating our flesh. No decent entity would have made it capable of experiencing such pain.”
Gaius sat down at the table. “Do you know the terror I’ve been going through? Remember, I had the knowledge and the opportunity to kill Theodora. I sit here and wait for excubitors to appear and pray they put a sword through me cleanly rather than dragging me down to the torturers. I keep my pain medication near me at all times. A very powerful poison. If they arrested me in this room it would be a corpse they’d be dragging outside.”
He reached for his jar of wine but John pushed it out of his reach.
“Try to stay calm, Gaius, and for Mithra’s sake, stay away from the wine. You need your wits. Excubitors are always racing about. You can’t be going into a panic every time you see an armed man coming in your direction. It’s the wine that takes your reason away.”
“But I am an obvious suspect and obvious suspects are being-”
“You had no reason to wish Theodora dead and every reason to want to keep her alive. How many years have you treated both the emperor and empress? You could have murdered either long ago. Justinian would have no reason to suspect you.”
“What reason did the emperor have to order the silversmith’s delivery boy thrown off the seawall this morning? Just because the poor child somehow blundered into the imperial quarters by accident.”
John got up as Gaius stood. The physician swayed slightly. His color had changed from red to chalky white. “You’ve started me thinking, John. All this talk about poisons, and who might have got poison into Theodora’s hands. I had not given it enough consideration. But clearly, Antonina has the skill, the personal connection. If Justinian wants a murderer I’d advise him to look in Antonina’s direction. She can concoct a poison as well as I can. Expose her as quickly as you can, John, before it’s too late for me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Manuel, cook for Empress Theodora, locked the storeroom in which were secured victuals and spices for dishes destined for the imperial couple. He nodded a goodnight to the guard stationed at the iron-banded door and went out through the series of long basement vaults that served as the palace kitchens. A skeleton night staff moved through the red shadows cast by the scattered braziers in operation at this late hour. From some distant chamber came a monotonous echoing thump as a servant chopped vegetables-parsnips perhaps-for a soup to be simmered through the night. No, onions. Manuel could distinguish the smell of freshly chopped onion, recognizable even in an atmosphere redolent of banquets past. The sooty whitewashed walls exuded the odor of meats broiled over the years and expensive spices few tongues in this part of the world would ever taste.
The cook was swarthy complexioned or else the smoke through which he moved day after day had soaked into his pores. He was as emaciated as a man who never came within sight of a square meal. When asked how that could be, Manuel joked that in the constant heat from dozens of massive braziers, he continually sweated off the morsels he sampled.
He stopped to speak to Petrus, who took charge during the night. His second-in-command was covered in loose feathers from the chicken he was plucking. One of the slaves should have done the job but Petrus enjoyed plucking and gutting chickens.
“That new assistant hasn’t been back?” Manuel asked.
Petrus shook his head. “Just as well. He insisted he knew all about cooking. Always had his nose in one of the pots. I had to keep explaining that he hadn’t been hired to cook but to clean and haul supplies off the delivery carts.”
“He was good at that. I’d thought he was a bit old for hard physical labor, but you saw the size of him. A powerful fellow.”
Petrus blew drifting chicken feathers away from his mouth. “A hard man, I’d say. Not your typical help. I put him down for one of the Praetorian Prefect’s men.”
“My guess was he actually worked directly for Justinian. I was given to understand he could be trusted because he had worked for highly placed officials.”
“A spy?”
Both men knew that the emperor had the kitchens kept under constant surveillance. Some of the guards were known to the staff, others were not. Generally there was a man who reported to the Master of Offices and another employed by the Praetorian Prefect. They kept an eye on both the staff and each other. Usually the emperor had his own spy there to watch everything and everybody else. The watchers were constantly being replaced, making it difficult for them to discover each other and collude. It all made little difference to the functioning of the kitchens, considering the virtual army employed there.