to well frequented places. I don’t wander down muddy alleyways. Or did you find some foul swamp to wade through?” She wrinkled her nose.
“I should have left my boots downstairs,” John admitted.
“Yes. Peter will be upset. But don’t worry about my safety. I’ve taken care of myself in Alexandria and—”
“Yes, but in all the other places you lived, you weren’t a member of the Lord Chamberlain’s household, as I have said before. Men in my position have enemies. Many enemies.”
Cornelia sat down on the bed beside him. John was aware of her perfume, faint as a memory of their days in Egypt, and the warmth where her hip touched his.
“I know you have enemies, John, but I find it hard to understand. It’s not as if you’re an ambitious man.”
John laughed. Odd as it sounded, she was right. “What further ambition could I possibly have?”
“You could crave still more power and more wealth. The empire isn’t enough for Justinian. He wants Italy back. He never has enough churches either. He keeps building more. Everyone has ambitions. And consider Anatolius. He aspires to write poetry for future generations.”
“That’s Crinagoras. Anatolius has turned his thoughts entirely toward the law.”
“You don’t believe that, do you? And consider Captain Felix. As high as his position is, wouldn’t he prefer to be leading an army on the battlefield?”
“Probably. When he joined the excubitors they were led by Justinian’s uncle Justin, a military man. Felix has always admired Justin. It’s true, though, my office came to me, rather than my seeking it out. However, whether I am ambitious or not, there are those who fear my power, or resent it, and have reason to do so.”
John patted the mattress beside him. “May I invite you to lie down?”
Cornelia settled into the curve of his arm. “No doubt,” he went on, “I am a threat to many at court. It’s no good looking at me like that. In serving the emperor I have harmed people, sometimes without realizing it. Others may believe I have deliberately harmed them, or might simply resent me for reasons known only to themselves. And any of these people might try to hurt me by hurting my family. Which is why you should have a guard when you go out. I will have to look into finding one.”
“But John, I was the one chiding you just now for going about unguarded. You see, we think alike. Who wants a guard underfoot all the time? As I was saying the other day, I’d like to see your private bath restored. Then I wouldn’t have to go out so often, would I?”
John smiled. “As it happens, I’ve traced the artisan responsible for the mosaics. Considering how lewd they are, they may require some modification in addition to repair.”
“I think not. They’re finely crafted and nothing is shown that would embarrass either of us. Peter could be instructed to avoid the room if it is offensive to him. I can clean it myself. And the hypocaust doesn’t function any more, except as a good place for rats to nest.”
“I will engage for someone to look at that also.” John brushed an errant gray hair away from Cornelia’s face. “Is there anything else you’d like?”
Chapter Sixteen
John wished to talk to Opilio, the sausage maker Alba had mentioned, but he decided to talk to Figulus first.
Although he had spoken with the mosaic maker about the repairs he desired, he had not made final arrangements and it seemed to John that investigations would be better served by giving Cornelia something pleasant to contemplate, rather than brooding on the possible dangers posed to him by looking into a murder. Then too, he supposed the refurbishment might serve as an apology to Cornelia for the obvious distress his investigations were causing her.
A servant asked John to wait in the doorway of the workshop. After a while Figulus’ wife appeared. John had not seen her during his initial visit. She was stout and her prematurely gray hair made her look too
“I should have left my boots downstairs,” John admitted.
“Yes. Peter will be upset. But don’t worry about my safety. I’ve taken care of myself in Alexandria and—”
“Yes, but in all the other places you lived, you weren’t a member of the Lord Chamberlain’s household, as I have said before. Men in my position have enemies. Many enemies.”
Cornelia sat down on the bed beside him. John was aware of her perfume, faint as a memory of their days in Egypt, and the warmth where her hip touched his.
“I know you have enemies, John, but I find it hard to understand. It’s not as if you’re an ambitious man.”
John laughed. Odd as it sounded, she was right. “What further ambition could I possibly have?”
“You could crave still more power and more wealth. The empire isn’t enough for Justinian. He wants Italy back. He never has enough churches either. He keeps building more. Everyone has ambitions. And consider Anatolius. He aspires to write poetry for future generations.”
“That’s Crinagoras. Anatolius has turned his thoughts entirely toward the law.”
“You don’t believe that, do you? And consider Captain Felix. As high as his position is, wouldn’t he prefer to be leading an army on the battlefield?”
“Probably. When he joined the excubitors they were led by Justinian’s uncle Justin, a military man. Felix has always admired Justin. It’s true, though, my office came to me, rather than my seeking it out. However, whether I am ambitious or not, there are those who fear my power, or resent it, and have reason to do so.”
John patted the mattress beside him. “May I invite you to lie down?”
Cornelia settled into the curve of his arm. “No doubt,” he went on, “I am a threat to many at court. It’s no good looking at me like that. In serving the emperor I have harmed people, sometimes without realizing it. Others may believe I have deliberately harmed them, or might simply resent me for reasons known only to themselves. And any of these people might try to hurt me by hurting my family. Which is why you should have a guard when you go out. I will have to look into finding one.”
“But John, I was the one chiding you just now for going about unguarded. You see, we think alike. Who wants a guard underfoot all the time? As I was saying the other day, I’d like to see your private bath restored. Then I wouldn’t have to go out so often, would I?”
John smiled. “As it happens, I’ve traced the artisan responsible for the mosaics. Considering how lewd they are, they may require some modification in addition to repair.”
“I think not. They’re finely crafted and nothing is shown that would embarrass either of us. Peter could be instructed to avoid the room if it is offensive to him. I can clean it myself. And the hypocaust doesn’t function any more, except as a good place for rats to nest.”
“I will engage for someone to look at that also.” John brushed an errant gray hair away from Cornelia’s face. “Is there anything else you’d like?”
Chapter Sixteen
John wished to talk to Opilio, the sausage maker Alba had mentioned, but he decided to talk to Figulus first.
Although he had spoken with the mosaic maker about the repairs he desired, he had not made final arrangements and it seemed to John that investigations would be better served by giving Cornelia something pleasant to contemplate, rather than brooding on the possible dangers posed to him by looking into a murder. Then too, he supposed the refurbishment might serve as an apology to Cornelia for the obvious distress his investigations were causing her.
A servant asked John to wait in the doorway of the workshop. After a while Figulus’ wife appeared. John had not seen her during his initial visit. She was stout and her prematurely gray hair made her look too
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