Thomas laughed. “You’re thinking about the crippled beggar, the one Peter kept telling me had been healed after going into the maze? It seems more likely Dedi arranged for one of the villagers to pretend to be lame, so he could point to him as an example of a so-called miraculous cure.”
“That might be so,” John admitted.
Cornelia looked away from gazing out the window. “What do you mean, John? You’re not suggesting the relic is anything but a forgery, are you? Remember, the beggar wasn’t in the maze for very long, yet it took you hours to find your way to the center and out again. The people carrying him should have stayed inside an hour or two at least. That speedy cure was a bad slip on Dedi’s part, I’d say.”
John agreed it was so. “Still, you have not seen Nehushtan as Peter and I did.”
Cornelia smiled. “You sound so solemn, I could almost suspect you believe in the power of this relic!”
“I’m not certain what I think about it. Religion defies proof, unlike murder. I’ve already explained why I believe Scrofa was sent out to kill me.”
Anatolius looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. If it was Porphyrios who tried-“
“He obviously didn’t know how to use the weapon very well. He must have taken the cord from Scrofa’s body after he killed him. Maybe he thought he’d hide his tracks by using it. I’m convinced the plotters ordered Scrofa to kill Symacchus and Achilles as well. They were killed the same way.”
“That makes sense. But if Porphyrios murdered Scrofa, why didn’t you bring him back in chains?”
“He was gone by the time I got out of the maze. Not only had he admitted to at least one murder, but he’d also tried to kill a Lord Chamberlain. Then there’s the question of his employers’ money. He hadn’t been able to get it, but I have no doubt that once they hear he’s run off, they’ll be convinced he absconded with it. He’ll spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder until someone catches up to him.”
“So everything has been neatly solved,” said Thomas.
“Except for the most important matter,” John pointed out. “There remains the real reason I went to Egypt. The plotters have not been exposed. For that, I will need your assistance, Anatolius.”
Anatolius looked at John in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You mentioned you’ve gained Crispin’s confidence?”
“Temporarily at least. He’s half-convinced I know something about this relic, which is probably the only reason I’m still alive.”
“Then you must arrange matters with him. He wanted to present Nehushtan to the emperor, and so he shall.”
Chapter Forty-four
The audience gathered in front of the ivory double throne occupied by Justinian and Theodora could not have been more unlike the crowd atop the Rock of the Snake, except that they had assembled for similar reasons.
Glancing around, John recognized senators, aristocrats, and assorted palace officials. Shielded by lesser clergy, the Patriarch-whether by design or accident-stood as far from Crispin as was possible. Hektor had, John noted, stationed himself mid way between the bishop and Theodora. Armed excubitors flanking the imperial couple and stationed around the walls outnumbered the distinguished guests. Felix stood beside the throne.
Work on the hall had been completed in John’s absence, and now that night had fallen, light from hundreds of lamps set on ornate silver stands or hanging by ceiling chains gilded the panes of the high windows. John glanced upward at the enormous cross that glittered through the mist of smoke. Although it was rendered in nothing more than gold and gems, he had the uneasy feeling it was on the verge of crashing down on the assembly.
He stepped toward the throne.
Justinian nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging John’s low bow, while Theodora gazed down at him with the fixed, incomprehensible stare of an ancient statue.
“My dear Lord Chamberlain,” the emperor began in thin tones John doubted were audible to most of the gathering. “We are pleased to extend our gracious thanks for your unceasing labors on our behalf. We were much relieved to hear the sheep which concerned us was not in fact suicidal, but merely the victim of a cruel trickster.”
He leaned forward and continued. “Furthermore, Lord Chamberlain, you have intrigued us with the information that this strange man concealed a far more important secret.”
“Yes, Caesar. The magician Dedi is the guardian of an astonishing relic.”
“We understand Bishop Crispin knows something of this?” Justinian turned his bland, bucolic countenance toward the bearded monophysite.
Crispin bowed. “That is so, excellency. It has pleased the Lord to deliver unto His followers a sacred artifact as irrefutable proof our understanding of His true nature is correct, and one which I venture to suggest will not disappoint your expectations. The man who brought it to the city awaits without.”
John glanced around. Theodora’s expression remained unchanged, while a smirk of satisfaction crossed Hektor’s ruined face.
“Very well,” Justinian replied. “Then it is our wish to observe and examine it.”
As the emperor uttered the words he cast a quick sidelong glance toward the impassive empress.
John signaled to the excubitors guarding the bronze doors at the other end of the hall, which immediately swung open to reveal the diminutive figure of Dedi.
The magician was dressed in plain white garments appropriate for the solemn task before him. He approached the throne slowly, almost hesitantly. An hour before he had appeared supremely unconcerned about attending an audience with Justinian, but, John supposed, coming face to face with the man who held the power of life and death over everyone in the empire was enough to give even a boastful Egyptian charlatan pause.
When Dedi reached the imperial couple he bowed clumsily.
“And this is the rogue who was responsible for the death of the sheep?” Justinian asked.
“Yes, Caesar. However, Dedi now brings two gifts and begs for the favor of performing for your imperial highnesses, possibly thereby earning your gracious pardon.”
Theodora gave a vicious smile. “Perhaps this little man believes he can mislead our beloved emperor and myself as easily and conveniently as he did ignorant peasants?”
Justinian waved his hand. “Indeed, indeed. The tale you have told intrigues me, Lord Chamberlain. We shall not rush to hasty judgement. Bishop Crispin, you assured me I would not be disappointed. We shall see. However, it seems this man has brought two gifts. What then is the second?”
Crispin looked startled, but quickly recovered his wits. “I believe Dedi wishes to present it personally.”
An excubitor appeared with a lidded basket which he placed at Dedi’s sandals.
Dedi drew himself up. “Here is a wonder to behold, most gracious one. A rare and fine example of a beast many have sought but few have found! That semi-mythical beast, the radish-colored cat.”
There were a few nervous laughs from the onlookers.
“There’s no such thing,” someone remarked too loudly.
“Pliny would surely be amazed,” another voice added.
Crispin directed a furious scowl toward Hektor.
Dedi waited for the murmuring to die down, then opened the basket and extracted a small kitten.
Theodora’s caw of laughter rang out. “You fool! It’s gray!”
Dedi bowed yet again. “But highness, do not radishes turn gray as they age and mould?”
Justinian chuckled as Theodora allowed herself an admiring smile at the magician’s impudence. “You may be lacking in stature, Dedi of Egypt, but you have a lion’s courage!”
Dedi handed the squirming feline to an excubitor.
“A clever gift, and one for which we extend our gracious thanks,” Justinian told Dedi. “And now, as regards the other matter…” His gaze flickered toward Bishop Crispin.