“I don’t know what you’re talking about, John. I’m not privy to all the ins and outs of your investigations. You’re thinking out loud.”
“You may be right, Felix. But you haven’t answered my question. When I first spoke to her, Isis told me you had often sought out Kuria. Then we decided she must have been mistaken, that she must have been thinking of Berta, the girl you visited there long ago. Perhaps Isis was right, after all. Perhaps it had been you seeing Kuria, just as she recalled. And if so, you might have been seeing her while she was a lady-in-waiting, with access to the empress. A young woman who could have poisoned Theodora at your behest.”
Felix raised his gaze to meet John’s. The dark circles around his eyes were so pronounced they might have been purple bruises. “No, John. I swear it. This cross is from a friend. A woman, yes. You are right there. Someone you don’t know. It didn’t work out, anyway. Surely you believe me?”
Chapter Forty-seven
John’s sleep was brief and troubled. He was repeatedly awakened by confused nightmares that drained away like cloudy wine from a cracked cup before he could recall what they had been about. For all he knew they might contain the solution to Theodora’s murder. Most likely they were a meaningless jumble. It was commonly said dreams were messages from the gods. If so, the gods must all be insane.
When it began to get light outside, John was happy to flee his bed, despite feeling more tired than when he lay down. As he went along the hall it came to him that Cornelia had appeared in some of the nightmares.
Surely today she would send word? If not, he would have to…what? If it were not for his investigation he would have ridden immediately to Zeno’s estate, but Justinian would not take kindly to his Lord Chamberlain deserting his duties.
“How is Peter?” John asked Hypatia as she served him his usual boiled eggs.
“Almost his old self, master. He’s still asleep this morning.”
“I told you he was a tough old boot,” John said. His nightmares had left a black film over his thoughts, like residue from smoke. Perhaps that explained why he couldn’t help thinking how the ill and aged so often rallied a day or so before they died. It was almost as if they knew the end was near and summoned up their final resources to take one last clear look at the world from which they were about to depart.
He chided himself for entertaining such gloomy ideas. Might the thought give rise to the reality? Then he chided himself even more harshly for entertaining a superstition.
John took a bite from a boiled egg. It wasn’t cooked enough. He preferred his eggs what most would consider overcooked. Peter knew that. He wondered, had Theodora rallied, given Justinian a glimmer of false hope before the end? There was no knowing, not that it mattered.
Poison, unlike illness, would never grant the dying person one final day to say farewell.
He took a gulp of water to wash down the egg. “Hypatia, you said Vesta picked foxglove leaves and took them to Antonina. Would they have some use other than in making poison? In love potions, for example?”
“Recipes for potions tend to contain a little bit of everything you can imagine,” she said, refilling his water cup from an earthenware jug. “I don’t know how they work, or whether they would still be effective if you leave anything out.”
“You knew Vesta by sight. Did you ever speak with her?”
“A few times. Once, while I was working in an herb bed, she stopped and asked what could be used as a painkiller for a woman’s complaint. Everybody at court asks me questions. I must be interrupted six times a day. I sometimes think I supply more medical advice than Gaius.”
John realized he did not know what herbs had been discovered in Vesta’s room. He had never taken a great interest in plants. They were stalks with leaves. “There are many herb beds in the palace grounds and all are available to anyone with access to the gardens,” he mused.
“Yes, master. Also Gaius has a garden of medicinal plants for his own use but someone could easily steal from it. There are herbs in the garden inside Theodora’s quarters too, but you can only get into it from the imperial quarters.”
“Is there anything unusual growing there?”
“I don’t think so. I wasn’t called on to tend it very often.”
John hadn’t expected Hypatia to know much of use although he had hoped she would.
The last few days had worn him out. He would have been pleased to learn what he needed to know by staying at home.
Unfortunately that was not possible.
Chapter Forty-eight
As John walked to Joannina’s rooms his breakfast sat at the bottom of his stomach like a stone thrown into the Marmara.
The young woman greeted him grimly. “Please try not to upset Vesta further, Lord Chamberlain. She’s devastated at being accused of murder.”
“Is her room in your quarters?”
“Anastasius’ and mine, you mean. No, she lives in the wing with the other ladies-in-waiting. They aren’t simply servants. Their accommodations are appropriate to their status.” Her bright blue eyes widened in alarm. “Why, if Vesta did live here someone would have had to creep secretly through my rooms to hide those herbs they found in hers. I don’t like to think about that.”
“Would it have been easier to enter a particular room in the wing the ladies-in-waiting occupy?”
“Relatively. One would still need access to the empress’ section of the palace.” She paused. “Excubitors would be able to march straight in and place incriminating evidence there.”
John asked her why she had suggested such a possibility.
Joannina shook her head and a strand of pale hair fell across her eyes. She brushed it aside. “To find a scapegoat to satisfy the emperor. Then too, it might suit you, Lord Chamberlain, if there was a murderer you could point out.”
“If I were responsible for those herbs, Vesta would have been left with the torturers.”
“Then perhaps it was someone who wished to distress me. I am fonder of Vesta than I should be.”
“I understand that Vesta idolizes you. She considers you and Anastasius the ideal romantic couple.”
Joannina’s eyes flashed. “Let me assure you she would not commit murder for me. Besides, Theodora’s death was the last thing I wanted. The empress championed my marriage to Anastasius. Now my mother will have free rein to put a halt to it. Vesta knows that.”
John wondered if Vesta might perhaps fantasize that she might take Joannina’s place in the handsome Anastasius’ affections if his marriage to Joannina was foiled.
Young people were prone to foolish ideas, John thought, as Joannina led him to the interior garden. It was as if by a certain age people were physically adults but had not managed to free themselves entirely from the phantasmal world of childhood. Outrageous actions might appear perfectly sensible. Then again, it was just as well young people did not yet see reality clearly. If they saw the world as it was they would never dare venture out into it but rather stay in bed with the covers pulled over their heads.
Vesta, looking very much like a child cowering beneath the covers, sat on the bench shaded by the awning beneath which he’d first spoken with her. She had twisted her thin legs around each other and wrapped her arms around herself.
She managed to untangle her limbs, none too gracefully, as John sat down.
“I–I want to thank you, Lord Chamberlain.” She gave him a fleeting smile. revealing a chip missing from the corner of one of her prominent front teeth. John did not inquire whether the injury had been deliberately inflicted or occurred by accident during her rough handling. Aside from that, and a few bruises on her face, she looked well enough.