Six for Gold by Mary Reed & Eric Mayer

voice accompanying them, would sound nearly as sweet as a work by Romanos Melodos,” agreed Thorikos.
    â€œI suspect the lover on the other side of the river could use a rest as well,” the charioteer commented with a grin.
    Thorikos chuckled, despite previous complaints about the damage the jolting of the cart might be doing to his aging bones, not to mention that the glare of the sun hurt his eyes and was giving him a headache.
    It was nearly sunset by the time the cart drew near to their destination. The first sign of approaching civilization was a weathered man with straw-like hair sitting on a crude wooden sled. A donkey tethered to a nearby palm tree chewed contentedly at a tuft of brown weeds.
    â€œGreetings, good pilgrims!” the man called out. “Please help an unfortunate who was lamed falling from a scaffold while helping to repair a holy place.”
    Thorikos tossed a coin over the side of the cart. “Clever fellow,” he said. “I’ll wager he’s stationed himself out here to relieve pilgrims’ purses before the beggars in Mehenopolis get the chance.”
    Beyond the tree shading donkey and beggar, the desert sloped into a shallow bowl filled with greenery. A thick growth of palms formed a dark, dusty sea which lapped at the base of the outcropping. Silver threads marked drainage ditches criss-crossing the area. Mud brick huts could be glimpsed here and there as the travelers rode further toward Mehenopolis, and before long a high wall came into view.
    â€œThat’s Melios’ estate, where my buzzing friends and I stay every year,” Apollo said. “The pilgrims stay in the tent camp at the foot of the Rock of the Snake. The rock is where the maze is situated.”
    Declining help on the grounds his bees did not care for unfamiliar people to handle their homes, he and the cart driver began unloading the hives, piling them by the estate gate.
    Peter leaned over the side of the cart. “The maze?” he asked with interest.
    â€œThat’s something else pilgrims come to see as well as the oracle I was telling you about,” Apollo replied, wiping his brow.
    Thorikos broke in. “That’s why I’ve traveled so far myself, Peter. I heard fascinating stories about this maze, and the oracle sounds most curious and well worth a visit too.”
    The fast sinking sun, although wrapping Mehenopolis in a purplish twilight, still imparted a golden-red tint to the upper part of the outcropping and the low, crumbling wall that encircled its flat top. A semi-ruined building with a high, dark doorway facing east was just visible through a wide gap in the wall.
    â€œThat’s the building you enter to get into the maze,” Apollo informed his fellow travelers.
    A maze, John thought. How appropriate. He had begun to feel he was already deep inside a labyrinth, without a torch to light his way out.
    However, now that he had at last reached his destination, he could at least get to work.

Chapter Sixteen
    â€œPlease sit down, Batzas.”
    Anatolius remained standing in front of the window of John’s study. His visitor, a younger man with the broad, unmarked face of an overgrown boy, placed himself on the nearest stool. “Did you bring the documents I requested?”
    Batzas’ hands tightened on his bundle of papers. “Yes, sir, but—”
    â€œI hear you’re doing well with your temporary new responsibilities. Justinian has not yet named my successor?”
    â€œThe emperor is hoping you will reconsider and return.”
    â€œI don’t think I shall. I’ll put in a good word for you. The work you’ve done for me has always been excellent.”
    â€œThank you, sir.”
    â€œNow to business. You composed the letter of introduction given to the Lord Chamberlain, I believe?”
    Batzas confirmed this had been the case. Like every first-time visitor to John’s study, Batzas kept glancing