Read Online Six for Gold by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer - Free Book Online Page A

even more.”
    Anatolius sighed. Trying to shift the big excubitor from his chair would be like trying to move a boulder with a twig.
    “Here’s something you’ll like, Felix,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wager you can’t get from here to your house without falling into the gutter.”

Chapter Eleven
    “The next thing I knew I was lying in the alley and…” Peter’s voice cracked as he forced the words out. “…The last few coins were gone, master.”
    The servant hid his anguished face in his hands.
    Peter, Cornelia, and John sat in a wide doorway on a street not far from the hostelry where they had spent the night.
    The sun had passed its zenith, but heat still lay honey-like upon Alexandria. The city seemed quiet, John thought. Had they already become accustomed to its raucous patchwork of sounds—the rattle of carts, the cries of hawkers, the screams of dusty children who wore amulet necklaces and little else?
    John looked at Peter appraisingly. “You’re not hurt?”
    Peter picked a flat, oval seed from his scanty hair and tossed it into a rut nearby. “Fortunately I fell into a heap of rotten melons.”
    A brown bird dropped from nowhere and flew off with the discarded seed.
    “It was better than I deserved for my carelessness,” Peter went on. “I don’t think the thief meant to harm me, and he left my satchel. Except…” His voice trailed off again.
    “Never mind, Peter. It was an excellent idea to bring silks to sell. Let’s see them,” Cornelia told him.
    With obvious reluctance Peter pulled the satchel open.
    The shriveled head of a mummified cat glowered out.
    “The thief took them, mistress, and left this as payment. I was going to throw the nasty thing away, but somehow the way it seemed to look at me…”
    Cornelia chuckled. “It’s adorable, Peter. I won’t let you abandon the poor thing. What should I call him? How about Cheops?”
    “It’s clear who’s responsible,” John said. “Show me this emporium, Peter. I will resolve the matter with Pedibastet quickly enough.”
    John began to stand. Cornelia placed a hand on his arm. “This isn’t Constantinople, John. You have no authority here.”
    “I’m certain I can do a good enough impersonation of a high official to frighten Pedibastet into returning Peter’s coins!”
    “Dressed in those rags?”
    John looked down at his threadbare, stained tunic. “You’re right. It’s a pity I don’t have one of my ceremonial robes.”
    “If you did, we could sell it for more than enough for our boat fare to Mehenopolis,” Cornelia said.
    The trio fell silent for a time.
    “But master, why would the emperor order you to a place on imperial business with no means of getting there?” Peter finally asked.
    “A good question,” John replied with a thin smile. He did not care to mention that Theodora was responsible for their lack of funds. The change in arrangements ordered by Justinian worried him. It would worry Peter and Cornelia even more.
    Cornelia soon spoke sharply. “It seems to me Justinian does not care how you arrive at Mehenopolis. In fact, it’s entirely possible he didn’t want you to arrive at all.”
    It was true. Theodora’s interference in John’s exile had been peculiar. Was it possible she had acted with Justinian’s blessing?
    John put the thought out of his mind. “More importantly, at this point we have to find our fare to get to Mehenopolis. They always need workers to load wheat on the docks. I can do that.”
    “Master!” Peter burst out. “The Lord Chamberlain should not be carrying sacks about like a common laborer! I would be—”
    “By the Goddess!” Cornelia interrupted. “John, don’t you remember how we earned our keep the last time we were in this land?”
    “I haven’t forgotten. You were part of a bull-leaping act and I helped guard the troupe.”
    “Not just bull-leaping. Remember there was also a magician called Baba? An engaging rogue, but always a crowd