John continued on, finally arriving at a narrow chamber where a metal grate not unlike those used to protect shops in Constantinople was set in the floor.
He bent and shone torchlight through the grate.
A grotesque visage stared back.
Glassy eyes glinted from folds of shriveled flesh, and bloodless lips drew away from black gums to reveal uneven teeth.
It was the false head of Dedi’s reptilian oracle.
John moved the torch further down and saw the snake itself, coiled up beneath the grate.
The creature didn’t move. It appeared to be asleep.
Did Hapymen make a potion to keep it docile?
Beyond, John could see a dark archway opening into a shadowy ascending tunnel.
He pulled at the grate. It opened slowly upwards, making an alarming racket.
He began to step down, over the somnolent snake.
Then a shadow flickered on the wall beside him and before John could decipher the meaning of it his breath was cut off.
John’s torch hit the floor in an explosion of sparks.
Reflexively he grabbed at the cord around his neck.
Someone had taken advantage of the noise of the grate opening to creep up behind him.
He managed to get his fingers under the cord. His attacker was not skilled in garroting and had not tightened it immediately.
Patches of darkness flashed across John’s vision.
He allowed himself to relax and slump forward, then twisted convulsively, slammed his assailant into the wall.
His ears rang. He lurched out of the attacker’s grasp.
Something hit him hard in the stomach and he crumpled.
“You fool! You’ve killed him!”
It was Dedi.
“No! He’s just unconscious! I hit him with the end of the spear, not the point.”
That was Hapymen.
John kept his eyes closed.
“And you…why are you here, Porphyrios?”
“I followed him from Melios’ estate. I realized the Lord Chamberlain had guessed the truth, Dedi. He as much as told me he thought Scrofa’s accident was too convenient.”
“It wasn’t an accident?”
“Of course not. Why shouldn’t I have drowned him? And you as well?”
“Don’t move,” Dedi said, “or Hapymen will put his spear through you as quick as he’d gut a fish. Consider this. If you murder the Lord Chamberlain you’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, and it probably won’t be a long span at that.”
“Doubtless you’re wagering your own on surviving long enough to tell the authorities I was responsible for Scrofa’s death?” Porphyrios sneered.
“Are you ready to bet yours on how fast you can disarm Hapymen? It’s one thing to kill a sheep. I’m not a murderer. Then again, I know why you came to Mehenopolis. I’d be doing Melios a service if I allowed Hapymen to kill you.”
“How could that be?”
“More than one person overheard you threatening the headman, including Hapymen here. I have no notion how much Melios owes your employer, but for a start, that stretch of land he and I have been arguing about for years is going to be mine. I’m not letting it be taken to pay Melios’ creditors. It would hardly be fair. I wasn’t the one gambling at the Hippodrome, was I?”
“Very well,” Porphyrios replied. “Your logic persuades me to spare John’s life-for now.”
The conversation continued, but blackness washed the corners of John’s mind. He couldn’t make sense of the words. He felt himself being rolled over.
“Tie him up, Hapymen,” Dedi was saying.
“Was it wise to let Porphyrios go?” Hapymen sounded worried.
“Another corpse would be difficult to explain, but more importantly Mehen has arranged for us to capture the Lord Chamberlain.”
“But you can’t kill him, master, for the same reason you gave Porphyrios!”
“Just make certain the knots are as tight as possible,” was the curt reply.
John felt rope coiling around his body, pinning his arms to his sides. A foot was placed on the small of his back and the bonds tightened.
“I’ll tell Melios the Lord Chamberlain’s disappearance is Mehen’s doing,” Dedi explained, “but that I can placate the snake god and get his guest back. For a price, that is, and the cost will be the strip of land I want. How can he refuse? John is his guest and Justinian will hold him personally responsible for his safety. Naturally Melios will agree to any terms.”
John was dragged across the uneven floor.
“And I’m happy for the opportunity to teach the great Lord Chamberlain a lesson in humility as well,” Dedi added.
The dark waters lapping at the edge of John’s thoughts welled up abruptly, and this time he could not hold them back.
Chapter Forty-two
A loud thump from a bedroom sent Peter rushing down the hallway.
“Master? Is that you?”
He found Thomas picking Cheops up off the floor. “Sorry, Peter. The door was open and when I saw it, I couldn’t resist looking closer at the famous cat mummy.”
Thomas laid Cheops back on the pallet. The whiskered face glared at him with fixed, eternal, feline fury.
The sun was high enough to send a brilliant shaft of light through the window slit high in the plastered wall. John had been gone all night and now half the morning. Peter briefly clasped his blistered hands together and muttered a prayer for protection of his master.
“It makes me nervous waiting around, even for divine intervention,” Thomas said. “John wouldn’t be talking to Dedi about whatever’s in that accursed maze for this long. It’s time for action.”
He slapped the pommel of his sword just as Cornelia stepped into the bedroom.
She shook her head. “No, Thomas, you’d better stay right here.”
“Mistress,” Peter ventured. “I believe Thomas is right. Something dreadful must have happened.”
“I should’ve insisted on going with him!” Thomas muttered. “Nothing speaks more persuasively to a rogue like Dedi than a sharp blade!”
He stepped forward, but Cornelia blocked the doorway. “You intend to venture out after your reception last evening? It would be better to remain indoors until John decides the best course of action. We won’t know what it is until he gets back.”
Thomas grumbled, but accepted the wisdom of her words.
“If Dedi’s up to further trickery there’s no point confronting him. He’d be expecting it and doubtless have some story or other prepared,” Cornelia continued.
“But mistress-”
“Don’t worry, Peter! John may well have had a sudden notion of other paths to explore and decided to pursue his investigations further, the middle of the night or not. You and Thomas stay here, in case he returns while I’m gone.”
She pivoted and vanished down the hallway.
Thomas looked glum. “Cornelia’s right. Everyone is so excitable here, and you never know what might happen. Even so, all this skulking about is getting tiresome. Ever since that night in the Hippodrome I might just as well have been locked in one of Justinian’s dungeons.”
Peter suggested Thomas might feel better after he’d had something to eat. A hearty meal was his solution to many problems of a worldly nature. He retreated to the kitchen and began to sort through vegetables.
His thoughts returned to John. Something terrible had befallen the master. Peter was as certain of it as if he had been granted a vision.
Perhaps heaven had spoken to him?
Would a vision come from outside? Could one’s thoughts be mistaken such a visitation? Might it appear to him as a phantom or a disembodied voice?
John had gone to question Dedi about whatever was in the maze.
What could be hidden there? Most likely some blasphemous artifact. Hadn’t the place been a pagan shrine?
Yet a fragment of weathered wood might still be a piece of the True Cross even though sold by a charlatan.
Peter had witnessed the crippled pilgrim cured. The man was carried into the shrine and walked out.