Dedi had concocted the magickal substance by burning Tychon’s woven belt, stolen at the baths, and combining the ashes with several ingredients. The ingredients, it was true, could be purchased at any number of shops along the Mese, but one needed to know the precise amounts and combinations and the guttural words of the incantation had never before been heard in Constantinople.
At least by human ears.
When he was finished Dedi stood and scuffed at the pattern, obliterating merely its physical presence, then moved silently into the house. There was no sign of anyone, so he continued to cast spells in each doorway he came to until his pot was empty.
Laughter shrilled from around a corner of the corridor.
Dedi tucked the pot back into his garment and skittered off, unheard and unseen.
Now he only needed to wait. As soon as Tychon passed through one of the doorways, the spell would encircle him as surely as the belt had encircled his waist and the demon would be in thrall to the diminutive Egyptian.
Dedi found a well-concealed spot beneath a huge clump of rose bushes, lay down on the soft earth, and dozed.
Chapter Thirty-four
Felix lay flat on his back, gazing upward.
His bed was a ship caught in a maelstrom. The fluffy clouds on the ceiling whirled madly, the pretty painted birds circled like vultures. His stomach heaved but there was nothing left to eject. He gagged and choked.
Anastasia, perched on the edge of the bed, mopped his burning forehead with a damp cloth. She picked up a green glass bottle from the table beside her. “Here’s one of the potions Antonina supplied.”
She slid her free hand behind Felix’s head, pushing it up as she lowered the bottle toward his mouth.
He flailed his arm weakly. “No. It’s her poisons did this to me. I won’t take any more of them.”
“Silly bear! It’s those kicks to your head. You shouldn’t have been running all over the city so soon afterwards. Now take this.”
He opened his mouth to protest again and she poured the contents of the bottle between his lips. He spluttered. Some dribbled out over his beard. She dabbed it up with her forefinger, then thrust the finger into his mouth. “Let’s not waste any.”
She released his head and he settled back, defeated. “What do you know about getting kicked in the head anyway?”
“You gave me a pretty good kick in the head the other night when we were-”
“True, but I wasn’t wearing boots at the time.”
Anastasia placed the bottle back with several companions. “You need to stay in bed for a day or two.”
“Impossible. I have to find that relic. No one has come after it yet?”
“No.”
“You should leave, Anastasia. If you’re here when they finally show up, you’ll be in as much danger as I am.”
“Which is to say, no danger at all. Why would Porphyrius kill you if he really thinks you have the relic hidden? Then he’d never be able to get his hands on it, would he?”
“Tell that to the fellow they hanged.”
“They didn’t hang you, did they?”
Felix closed his eyes to blot out the careening ceiling. He had to get back to work. Unfortunately to do so meant he would have to stand up first, and to stand up, sad to say, he had to manage to sit up. It was all so complicated. “I can’t just lie here and wait for a knock at the door.”
“You’re not capable of anything else right now. That potion will have you on your feet soon enough. Rest.”
“I wish I could. Now I’ve made an enemy of Germanus too.”
“Nonsense. He needs the captain of the excubitors on his side. He just enjoys bullying people.”
“How is it you know General Germanus?”
Anastasia shoved a pillow under Felix’s shoulders. “Try to sit up.”
To his surprise he managed to lever himself up slightly and risked opening his eyes a slit. The room looked a bit more stable. “Ah. Good.”
Anastasia handed him a silver chain from which was suspended an engraved carnelian. “Hang this around your neck. The symbols on the stone are magickal.”
Felix slipped the chain over his head, alongside his cross. He tapped at the chain bearing the latter. “Will that charm get along with-”
“Antonina knows what she’s doing. Ask all the men she’s bewitched.”
“They don’t necessarily know they’re bewitched, though, do they?”
“Oh, my. Are you thinking about that time-”
“Isn’t that what you were referring to? But let’s forget it.” He couldn’t help recalling his own long ago encounter with Belisarius’ wanton wife, which Anastasia seemed to have guessed. The last thing he needed in his state was an argument.
Anastasia giggled suddenly.
He looked at her as sharply. “What’s so funny? You’re not picturing me and-”
“You do feel guilty, don’t you? This talk about potions reminded me. Antonina said her servants had been stealing wine. So she added a little something that would cause the thief to reveal himself, and teach him never to do it again.” She covered her mouth to stifle further giggles.
“I wouldn’t care to work in that house! But how do you come to know Antonina so well? She was great friends with Theodora. Is that it? Is Antonina acquainted with all of Theodora’s attendants?”
Anastasia stopped giggling and looked at him in a way he’d never seen before. Totally perplexed. “You great oaf! You really don’t know, do you? And I thought you simply wanted it left unsaid.”
Felix stared at her in bewilderment. The room was no longer spinning but he felt even more disoriented. “Don’t know what? Didn’t want anything said about what?”
She bent over and playfully kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m not a lady-in-waiting or any kind of attendant. I’m Theodora’s sister.”
Chapter Thirty-five
“Why are you looking so shocked, Felix? You know that Theodora had sisters.”
“Anastasia is such a common name. Anyone could make the same mistake. I’ve seen Comita at the palace from time to time but-”
“I avoid the court and in particular public ceremonies, They are both so terribly boring.” Anastasia dropped onto the bed next to Felix. The bed’s motion sent a shot of pain through his side. “I’m still the same woman.”
Felix tried to avoid wincing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew and did not want it mentioned. As I said.”
Her tone didn’t sound convincing. Felix was about to say as much when she grabbed his beard, pulled his face toward her, and gave him a lengthy kiss.
“There. Do my kisses taste different?”
“No,” he admitted.
But now he was afraid the honey concealed a bitter poison.
“You’re worried it isn’t safe to be involved with Theodora’s sister, even if the empress is dead. That’s it, isn’t it?”
As always she seemed to read his thoughts. Felix ran his tongue nervously over his lips and said nothing.
“Remember, you aren’t a common soldier. You’re the commander of the excubitors, the imperial guard.”
“Was the commander, you mean.”
Anastasia waved her hand dismissively. “The trouble with you is you don’t have the courage of your ambitions. You’re too loyal.”
“Justinian prizes loyalty.”
“And where has it got you?”
Felix grunted. “Right now I’m not concerned about getting anywhere. Just remaining out of the dungeons is enough.”
“As soon as you’re rested and healed, you’ll be longing for the battlefields of Italy again.”
“A few hours ago I was sure I’d be dead by now, or if not, wishing I were.” A chill went down his back as he thought again of passing through the room full of torture instruments.
“If you don’t stop getting your humors deranged you’ll kill yourself without any help from Justinian or Porphyrius. You don’t look well at all. Just look at the backs of your hands.’
“Yes, I know, Anatolius pointed out the same thing. What am I supposed to do? I’m in grave danger, and so are you. We must proceed with great caution.”