He sought the next opening.
And found a door.
He pushed it open and could see again.
Ahead lay a long, narrow hallway with light at the far end.
Several strides took him around a corner, under an archway, and into a chamber whose fitful lamplight had spilt out into the corridor.
He had arrived at a circular room.
Clay lamps, arrayed on the floor along the foot of its uneven walls, cast shadows into a dome crudely chiseled from the native rock. Light danced on a tall pole topped by a horizontal cross piece displayed on a low wooden pedestal set against the wall opposite the archway.
A serpent, thicker than John’s leg, climbed around the pole, its glittering coils moving ceaselessly.
John realized the reptile’s apparent motion was an illusion created by the flickering lamps, for the upper part of the snake’s body and its head rested on the horizontal bar and their position remained unchanged.
Now he saw the truth of it.
The artifact Thomas had been given in Constantinople was not a cross with the top and the figure of the Christian’s gentle god broken from it.
Clearly it was a reproduction of this effigy-one from which the serpent had been detached.
This then must be the thing Justinian’s enemies sought.
A representation of an ancient god.
Dedi claimed to derive power from it, but he was a charlatan, wasn’t he? The cures the pilgrims sought were empty promises, weren’t they?
John looked up at the serpent.
It had been fashioned of copper. The black pits of its eyes fastened on him.
John suddenly felt cold. There was some quality beyond mere darkness in the shadows of those eyes. It was as if a hole had been punched through the brightly frescoed wall of reality to reveal a void beyond the world.
He reached up and touched the snake’s glittering coils.
There was a faint crackle and the tip of his forefinger felt as if it had been stung by one of Apollo’s bees.
It must have been his imagination.
He laid his hand against the serpent.
It felt warm.
No doubt warmth from the lamps had heated the metal from which it was constructed.
There was no doubt if any pilgrims reached this circular sanctum they would be suitably impressed and overawed, yet how could the strange artifact triumph against imperial troops or aid a plot against Justinian?
John looked behind the pedestal on which the idol stood and found what he had expected.
A wooden trapdoor.
No doubt the tunnel below led back to Dedi’s dwelling.
The lamps guttered and smoke swirled. A figure stepped into the chamber.
It was Peter.
“Master! I…I made my way through the maze by faith, it seems…”
Peter’s words trailed off as he saw the effigy. He fell to his knees, sketching a cross with a trembling hand.
His eyes glistened as he looked at John. His voice was a ragged whisper. “It is Nehushtan.”
“Nehushtan?”
“The brazen serpent, master. When the chosen people wandered in the wilderness the Lord sent fiery serpents among them. Moses prayed to Him and was commanded to make a serpent and display it upon a pole, so that whoever beheld the image would be healed. But when it came to be worshipped as an idol in the days of Hezekiah, it was destroyed. Except it was not destroyed, master, for here before us is Nehushtan itself.”
Chapter Forty-three
“I told Senator Symacchus I had a lot of experience when it came to relics,” Thomas grumbled, “and didn’t I end up with Nehushtan almost in my grasp? If only the senator had believed me-”
“There are safer ways to make a living than chasing after such things,” Europa interrupted. She gave her husband’s arm an affectionate squeeze.
She and Thomas were seated in John’s study in Constantinople, along with John, Anatolius, and Cornelia. The clang of pots accompanied by a hymn drifted down the hallway. Peter was reclaiming his kitchen.
They had talked for a long time, trying to piece together what they had learned separately.
“So really you were pursuing an investigation for the emperor, John.” Anatolius’ tone betrayed his irritation. “At least you returned from Mehenopolis more rapidly than you arrived there. I was afraid that before you got back Crispin would summon me to a meeting, and then what would I say?”
“I’m certain you’d have invented a reasonable story,” John said.
“Luckily I didn’t have to! Now, let’s see if we agree on what happened. Bishop Crispin learned of the existence of the relic in the maze from Senator Symacchus, who’d been trying to convert him to orthodoxy. Symacchus, who came to sympathize with the monophysites, had been told about it by his Egyptian guest, Melios.”
“I’ll ask Peter to show you the pilgrim flask Hapymen presented to him before we left,” John said. “It’s identical to one you described in the senator’s collection. According to Hapymen, the wavy line you thought was a river was intended to represent Mehen. No doubt the senator’s matching flask was given to him by Melios when he visited Constantinople.”
“So the monophysites, having learned of the relic, realized bringing the brazen serpent of Moses to Constantinople would demonstrate clearly to everyone that the Christian god was on their side of the theological dispute.”
Thomas guffawed. “Which, since they already had Theodora as their champion, would’ve forced Justinian to change his beliefs!”
“Almost certainly,” Anatolius agreed. “And then who would have held the real power in the empire? Fortunately for Justinian, Crispin and whatever other clerics were involved were good at plotting, but reluctant to set events in motion. That changed when Hektor arrived on the scene. He isn’t one to hesitate.”
John nodded. “I’d guess that Hektor originally got in touch with Senator Symacchus because he’d briefly been his reader and Hektor was attempting to establish himself as a pious Christian for his own purposes. When he realized the opportunity he’d stumbled over he must have been jubilant!”
“Doubtless they intended to use Apollo’s services to smuggle the relic out of Egypt?” Europa asked.
“I believe so. Melios admitted Apollo had performed similar services for him. I believe that Zebulon also had a hand in the same trade. He probably still has contacts in the religious community in Antioch. More importantly, the relic is not much taller than a man. It would fit into a large enough hive or could be cut in half and placed in two.”
Thomas gave a snort. “I would’ve just put it in a crate and shipped it.”
“Caution and secrecy are always the best policies when plotting against the emperor,” John said. “Even Hektor was cautious, in his own way. He had to remove Symacchus and his servant Achilles, to make certain their indiscreet chatter didn’t cause further trouble. He also arranged that the meddlesome adventurer who’d appeared on the scene was to be found in circumstances where he would be held responsible for the senator’s murder. That he turned out to be Thomas, with myself on his heels, was just a stroke of unexpected good fortune.”
Anatolius frowned. “I suppose Hektor and his accomplices came to the senator’s house that evening in order to take Achilles and dispose of him. I’ve given it some thought. It wasn’t just the matter of what he revealed at Isis’ house that condemned him. Remember, Achilles was sent to alert Felix because Achilles was expendable, and furthermore wouldn’t be recognized as a known associate of Hektor’s.”
Thomas leaned over to John’s desk and plucked up the small enameled artifact which had been the cause of so much misery. “So it turned out this is not a broken cross as we all supposed, but a copy of Nehushtan with the snake removed?”
“Indeed. The original would be a particularly impressive relic to bring into the city with the plague still raging,” John observed. “Consider. It cured the sick centuries ago and is still believed to be as powerful now as it was then.”