Distant Thunder

Luna, tuus tecum est: cur non est et mea meum? Luna, dolor nosti quid sit: miserere dolentis.

Your love, O Moon, is with you; why then am I not also with mine? O Moon, you know what grief is; pity one who grieves.

Livia unlocked the cupboard that held her husband's private papers. He'd always hid the key, but six years of marriage had given her much practice in finding what Sextus thought was hidden. She'd never pried in this cupboard, but she knew what it held; deeds to various lands, copies of official proclamations, and quite possibly a few naughty drawings, as most gentlemen of her acquaintance owned. She was actually looking a bit forward to seeing those; though she'd heard of them from several of her friends, she'd never managed to lay eyes on them herself.

It was one cheery thought in the midst of a dour mood. She and Darius were going out in a bit to see Zamed, the Sassenid mage, but he'd said that the man didn't usually see people until noon. Unwilling to leave herself with nothing to occupy her mind, she'd resolved to go through Sextus' papers, at least glancing superficially at everything so she could begin to put together a picture of what she did and did not control.

The cupboard was plain inside, with five shelves filled with scrolls and a few new-style books. She started at the top, finding exactly what she expected--deeds and titles, and legal papers. The second shelf was more of the same, a layer of dust on most of the contents of those two shelves. "Did he never dust in here? Honestly." It was easier to do this if she focused on a mild irritation with him, as if he were merely away on a long trip somewhere.

There were other things as well, records of financial transactions, most of them from before they had married. Livia smiled briefly as she came across the records of their betrothal, the agreement of her dowry. Oddly enough, those scrolls had no dust on them, as if he'd been looking at them recently.

She still hadn't found the drawings, and she frowned. Surely the hours Sextus had spent hidden away in this room had to have an explanation. Perhaps they were simply well hidden? She poked around in the cupboard, and her fingers, searching the bottom, found a hidden catch. The bottom of the cupboard sprang upward, and by reflex she caught it. Clearing off the shelf with one hand, she pulled up the false bottom. There was a deep compartment that was actually set into the floor of the room. "No wonder he never wanted to move it. He couldn't," she murmured as her fingers searched the compartment, pulling out the contents. She found several new-style books, a number of scrolls, many narrow scrolls of the sort used for tally-keeping, and a few other things. There was also, beneath the papers, a quantity of coins, more gold than she'd seen in one place for a few years, and another quantity of brass and copper.

Starting with the most obvious thing first, she opened the tally-scroll. She scanned it, then something caught her eye. She paused, frowned, and backed up. It was a tally of an account for this year, an account that she'd had no idea existed. She'd suspected, of course; as most wives did, most husbands kept a small account separate from the household account for small expenses they didn't want to explain to their spouses. The numbers, though, were extravagant. Her account usually had three hundred brass sestertii in it, the equivalent of seventy-five silver denarii or three gold aureus. She fetched a wax tablet and began to do some tallying.

"This doesn't make any sense," she muttered. Sextus had spent four hundred gold aureus in the last six months in the souks. It was a prince's ransom, the salary of thirty legion officers for an entire year. She'd kept the household accounts, and she knew where every denarii went. This hadn't come from anything that she knew about.

And there was another entry, a payment of fifty aureus a year to someone named Merouk. A Sassenid name, that was. The notation by the tally-mark told her that this was the seventh such yearly payment he had made, but there was nothing to tell her what he'd been paying for, or why.

"What were you doing, Sextus?" she said as she studied. "Donations to a temple of Ares? You were a Christian, Sextus, born and bred. And who is Iraeus? Someone connected with the Ares temple, maybe the high priest. I had no idea there was a pagan temple left within Constantinople."

Five hundred aureus had been paid as a deposit for a hundred extra guards that had been intended to arrive a few days from now, with a note later that showed the majority of the money having been refunded as the order was cancelled. The guards and the servants had been given their salary for three years in advance, rather than being paid monthly as they always had been. "How he thought I wouldn't notice--but he never intended for me not to notice, did he? Oh, gods take it all--God take it all, that is. He surely did intend me to notice. Sextus, Sextus, what were you doing..."

The final entry was of a sudden reversal of money outgoing to money incoming--two large payments in the last two weeks, noted as being from Hagia Sophia. Five hundred aureus per week had been paid to Sextus. Livia's head swam.

Perhaps the other papers would enlighten her. She picked up a book which seemed to be a calendar of some sort, where Sextus had taken to writing down his appointments. The name of Iraeus cropped up again, and he had been spending quite a bit of time at Hagia Sophia. She quite clearly remembered several occasions where he'd told her he was meeting with Constantius where, according to his notes, he had actually been at Hagia Sophia.

And more damning still, there were notes of meetings with the leaders of the Sassenids, outside the walls of the city. Her hands shook as she read the most damning entries of all. Sextus has been meeting with Constans regularly over the last year, every month at least.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Gods, Sextus..."

She put the appointment book back, and the opened several of the other scrolls. They were all scrolls having to do with demons. Livia started as she recognized a drawing of a gulagon. There was another scroll all about something called a spinagon demon. Both scrolls noted strengths, weaknesses, weaponry, and other qualities of the demons. Other scrolls were about other kinds of demons.

Her hands were shaking very badly indeed when she opened the last scroll she came to. This one was different from the rest. It was long and densely written, but the heading was clear. On the Summoning of Demons.

Sextus had been studying demons. Is that what he had been doing at Hagia Sophia? She dropped the scroll and put her hands on her thighs, bending at the waist and folding herself in half. Tears stung her eyes as she stayed in absolute stillness for a moment.

There was a sound behind here, and then a knock on the doorframe. "Lady? Are you ready to go?" Darius paused, and asked, "Lady, are you all right?"

"Fine." She straightened and then gathered up the account tally and the other papers. Her hands were still shaking as she put the scrolls away. "I am afraid Sextus had some hobbies that he never told me about. Tell me, do you know why my husband would have been at Hagia Sophia twice a week for the last year?"

He shook his head. "None that I can prove. I would have thought you would know more than I."

"Look at this. Scrolls about gulagon, something called spinagon, other demons. And this one--about summoning demons." Her hands were shaking again, and sternly she told them to stop. It helped, a little. "I can think of several reasons for him to have these, and none of them are good...and some of them are worse than others. I would have sworn he was no mage. Perhaps I didn't know him as well as I thought."

Darius took the scrolls from her, glancing at them each in turn. "No offense, lady, but these documents are meant for a layman--general theory on demons and summoning. He couldn't have summoned a demon from these. But the question that has to be asked is that he obviously knew something was wrong, but why didn't he do anything or tell you about it?"

Livia took a deep breath. She was rattled and scared, but underneath the fear anger was beginning to burn. She welcomed it, hoping it would burn away the fog that seemed to be clouding her thoughts. "That, I don't know. He knew something was wrong, surely, and there's some other evidence in here that points to him being aware that there was a good possibility he was going to die." She paused and looked at Darius. How far could she trust him? She chose to demur a bit. "Either he was doing something that he's been ordered not to tell anyone about, even me, or he was doing something that he wasn't supposed to. And until I figure out which it was, I can't bring this up with Constantius."

"I would have to agree that he may have been ordered not to say anything." The big man sank to the floor beside her, so that for once he was not looming over her. He kept a respectful distance from her. "Hagia Sophia has been very quiet lately. No one will say a word to anyone about what is going on. Far too many closed door meetings. And I wouldn't say a word to Constantius. He may have something to do with this as well."

Livia frowned, pursing her lips. "Trust me, I wasn't about to." Her mind was working, turning over possibilities and discarding them. Perhaps the blunt approach was called for. She did not have the measure of Darius, and she needed it. "Tell me, Darius, who do you answer to? Are your loyalties with Constantius, or Hagia Sophia, or someone else?"

He lifted his eyebrows. "I have no loyalty to Constantius, Constans or any other person claiming to be on the throne of Rome. I do as Hagia Sophia requires to complete my extended training. But in the end, I listen only to my own conscience." It had the ring of truth, or at least conviction. Livia had spent her life listening to some of the most accomplished liars in the city ply their trade. Darius, she was sure, believed what he was saying....but that did not make it the truth.

It was the best she was going to get for the moment. "Believe it or not, that's incredibly reassuring. There's more, then. It all paints a picture that adds up to something that is, like you said, very, very big." She looked away from him, gathering her thoughts and her courage. "My husband was meeting with a man named Iraeus, at a temple of Ares, including going do far as to make donations. As far as I know, he was a fully converted Christian. Do you have any idea where I might find this temple of Ares? I've heard of priests still living incognito in the city, but even a small temple would be...well, not allowed.

Darius nodded. "Yes, I do know where that temple is. Its not a place that one likes to go anywhere near day or night. It's an unofficial temple but if you know the right people, you can find it. Or maybe that should be the wrong people."

"Not exactly the cream of society, eh? I don't suppose you know said wrong people, do you?"

Darius' lips curved in a slight smile. "I do, lady. I spent an assignment searching for them."

"I think I need to speak with this Iraeus, and see if he'd be willing to tell me what he and Sextus were meeting about. My husband left a trail for me. I think the only thing that's going to help me find out what happened to him is to follow it." Saying the words made the intent abruptly real, and Livia exhaled. Sextus had as good as written her a note; he had obviously expected her to find his papers and follow his trail.

In a nearly colorless tone, Darius said, "I can arrange such a meeting, lady. But much depends on you."

It was Livia's turn to raise an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Are you willing to travel into the depths to find out what your husband was doing? How far are you willing to go?" His intent gaze belied the neutrality of his tone.

"The gulagon coming back was, I think, a sign that whatever this is isn't going to leave me alone. I'll go as far as I have to." She stopped and considered another theory. "Or it was intended to intimidate me, which I take serious offense at."

He nodded. "Then we need to step up your training, lady. Are you willing to fight? Are you willing to kill?"

Having it put that bluntly shook her. Livia dropped her eyes, staring down into her hands. Could those hands take the life of another? She blinked as a vision washed her sight with red--her hands, blood-stained. But the thought did not disgust her, or frighten her nearly as much as it should have. She looked up again. "If I have to, I will. And I think I may well have to. Can you teach me?"

"Yes, lady. I can teach you some of things you need to know. But survival for you may mean that you have to become them." Urgency was coloring his voice, cracking the carefully neutral visage he presented.

This time it was Livia who had the wry twist of a smile on her lips. "I was raised as a politician, Darius. Expediency tends to win out over moral righteousness, a lot of the time. If I need to, I will do so. Apparently, my hands are already bloody. I'd really like to know why."

"Then lady, given time, I can set a meeting with Iraeus or at least someone who can."

Livia nodded. "We have time, as far as I know. Well, some time. Eight days until I am expected to come out of mourning."

"Anything else that troubles you, lady?"

She made a chuffing noise in the back of her throat. "Everything. There are records of Sextus paying fifty gold a year to someone named Merouk, but no indication of why. That's a Sassenid name, but I've no idea how I'd go about finding this person. I wonder if Merouk's connected with the Sassenid girl that the guards chased away the night Sextus died."

"Never heard of them, but it's probably an assumed name. It is possible that there is a connection. The Sassenid community is small."

Livia smoothed the fabric of her stola over her knees. "I don't think the few Sassenids who live here would appreciate me coming and nosing around their business, but I'm not sure it can be helped."

"I don't think it can be either." Darius shrugged, an impressive movement of his broad shoulders. "Zamed may know things that can point you down a better path or he may confuse us more. But there seems to be a cover up of some sort going on."

"What I'm really worried about is what I may stir up by investigating. I'll have to keep an eye on the fallout."

"You have enemies already it seems, and you may make even more. But you don't really have a choice, except to do nothing at all." He shook his head.

"And that is not an option. I'd rather know who's holding the knife that's trying to stab me in the back, thank you very much." She started as she realized that she had been speaking to Darius as if he had been a friend. I have to watch that. I can't afford to like him just yet. I don't know enough about him.

Darius rose from where he had been sitting. "I had assumed as much. If you are ready, I will return in 15 minutes to head to the Sassenid souk to find Zamed. Please dress down, lady."

"I will." She watched him leave, then turned her attention to putting away the papers, locking the chest once more. She repaired to her chamber, there to hunt through a chest for a piece of clothing she remembered owning but wasn't sure if she'd given away. No, there it was--a chiton made of an undistinguished light wool, dyed a light brown. She wasn't sure where she'd come by this, but she'd saved it in her chest, probably thinking she could make it over into something else later on. She also found a palla made of a similar material, this one light green. She quickly changed, then let her hair down, combing it out and removing every last trace of ornament. She tied the curly mass of her hair back with a strip of cloth, and then checked to make sure she had removed every piece of jewelry she had on.

She washed her face and then used ash to give her eyes a little bit of shadow. In the bronze mirror she could see her reflection looking back at her. Except for her skin, which was somewhat pale, she might be able to pass for a merchant's daughter. She would not wear the stola, the garment of married women, since she assumed that they would be seeing people Darius knew, and the question of what he was doing with someone else's wife would be excessively awkward to answer.

It was a little exciting, like being an actor in the theater. She flushed as she felt guilty for the thought, the idea of taking any sort of pleasure from the investigation of her husband's death. But she'd always admired the women who played roles in the plays that were a large part of noble social life; she knew, of course, that she could never be one of them, as she'd lose any claim to respectability by doing so. Politics was as much acting as anything else, though, and this role was a new one, an interesting one, and one she would likely never be able to play again.

Even in the mirror, though, the mark of grief was upon her. There were shadows under her eyes, telling of nights spent largely sleepless, and her dark eyes were dull and reddened. Her cheeks were bloodless, and she looked tired.

Tired as her mother had looked in the wake of her father's death, five years ago. She hadn't understood the bone-deep fatigue then, how difficult it was to sleep when someone who should be lying beside you was gone. She felt like a boat, spinning rudderless as a storm approached.

I could give up, she thought. Give in. Depend on Constantius to protect Optata. Enjoy my wealth and my peace. I haven't done anything irrevocable yet.

But there was what she'd told Darius, that she still believed--that Sextus had left a trail she could follow so she could find out what he was doing and finish his work. Will you learn to fight? Darius had asked. Will you learn to kill?

Women did not fight, did not kill. But she would, if she needed to. How would he teach her, she wondered. Would she learn the wicked broad-bladed knife? Or the gladius, the short sword of the legionaries? Or something else?

She looked down at her hands. They were so small. "Even small hands can wield a knife," she muttered. "Even these."

In her plain raiment, she clenched her fists. It was almost time to take her first step on this journey, tracking the scent Sextus had left. She turned to another chest to find the stash of aureus she'd designated for this outing.

Livia had been to the souks a time or two before, but always riding in a litter, never walking like a merchant along the road. As the neighborhoods changed and the buildings became a little shabbier, she tried not to look around her too much. You come here all the time, she reminded herself. You are for the moment the daughter of a merchant, come to the souks to buy things you cannot get elsewhere.

Zamed lived on the less fashionable edge of the souks, in a building that looked as if it would fall if one leaned on it too hard. The shop smelled of smoke and burned hair with a whiff of strangeness beneath it, the shelves crowded with merchandise for sale, things that she had no idea what they might do. To her eye, much of it looked like junk; she wondered, if she were a mage, if she would think it a treasure trove. Livia kept behind Darius' shoulder, and waited for him to make introductions.

Zamed himself was a man wearing a turban, with a beard streaked with grey and quick hands that stilled at their approach. He was almost shorter than Livia and round. Darius nodded at Zamed. "This is Hedea. She requested that I make an introduction to you, as she has some things she'd like to purchase."

Zamed smiled broadly. "Pretty woman, you have there. Very pretty hands." Livia hoped that her internal wince didn't show too badly. She hadn't thought about her hands, hands that had hardly ever done a day of physical labor. "Hedea, you say. What brings you to the shop of Zamed? Love potions, probably not. If you caught Darius then you could sell me something. Pregnancy potions, maybe?"

Again Livia stilled a wince. He could not possibly realize the sore spot he was hitting with that, and she was determined not to show it. She replied, "Actually, I need some information. I would pay well for answers that would lead me to what I'm looking for."

His eyebrows rose. "What answers do you require? Then we can talk gold."

"I've been told that you occasionally sell the dyes required to create the symbols to summon certain demons--gulagon, in specific. I need to know if you've sold any of those dyes recently, and to who."

"I do sell those dyes." Zamed's eyes narrowed. "How recently are you asking? Last month, last week, last year?"

Livia shifted, thinking. "I don't know. Sometime in the last year, surely, and probably within the last month."

The smile was back on Zamed's face, only this time it was changed, more closed and wary. "Then you ask for four names, or at least descriptions. My price is 5 gold per name."

She crossed her arms. "That, sir, is exorbitant. But I have little choice. Twenty gold, then." She reached into a slit in her chiton and pulled out a bag. She swung it, and from the bag the distinctive clink of gold aureus was heard. She removed twenty coins, lightening the bag almost to nothing, and lay them out on the counter Zamed was standing behind. He scooped them into a small sack which disappeared behind the counter.

"All right. The first was one of Darius' ilk, young boy no more than twenty years old. he bought a great deal of dyes and powders. Didn't know what he was doing. Black hair, dark eyes, roman looking. Very jumpy, always looking over his shoulder. That who you're looking for?"

"Possibly. The other names, please."

That smile again. "Just trying to save you money. Next one was a young girl, Sassenid. Maybe 16, probably less. Very knowledgeable, very pretty. Quick and a good haggler. Less than a day apart those two, about two weeks ago."

She frowned. A Sassenid girl again. She wondered if it was a coincidence. "Ah, interesting. And the others?"

"Ah, now those you don't want to mess with. But as you wish." He chuckled dryly. "Big guy, very tall, mean looking, from what I could see. tried to keep hooded but I could see the eyes. almost slitted they were. Yellow in color. Knew his craft and knew exactly what he was doing. Came with two others, both mercenaries by the look of them, carried weapons of the best bronze and some iron. Black robe on a hot day. But he kept you chilled just to look at him."

He leaned forward, and his smile turned sharper, his tone giving Livia the urge to shake herself to get the oil off. "And finally. Average sized man, didn't know a thing really about anything. Smart enough to remove his rings but not smart enough to cover the tan lines from them, just like you. Spoke about his wife, he did. Remarked on how he was going to miss her when he was gone, and his daughter. Think he was sadder about his wife though. Rare in this day. Sorrow filled that one."

Livia felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. That was Sextus, she was sure of it, and she tried not to glance down at her hands, realizing that the pale bands that marked where she usually wore her rings were all too obvious. She summoned the steel her mother had taught her and asked, "How long ago were those last two?"

"Less than a week the first, four days ago the second. Talked about his wife's hands. delicate and small. That you?"

He knew, oh, he knew. But Livia kept up her role. "It's not really any of your business, sir."

Zamed shook his head, that sly smile still living on his face. "Probably not. Paid in old gold, he did. Old money. Probably a noble."

She inclined her head. "Thank you. I do have one more question, then. Do you know of someone who calls themselves Merouk?"

He frowned, and for a moment genuine surprise registered on his face. "Merouk? Not a name I have heard in fifteen years or more. Young and beautiful at the time. Not more than fifteen. She was something to see. Died, I think, could be wrong. It was said she had found a noble that took her fancy and they were going to leave the city. Never saw her again. Probably not the same person."

Something in Livia's mind sang out as the pieces fell into place. She gave Zamed a totally insincere smile and said, "No. Probably not the same person at all. Interesting. Thank you for your time, then." She stepped back and realized to her surprise that Darius, who had been silent throughout this conversation, was no longer behind her. Somehow, he had moved without her seeing him to the other side of the counter, where he grabbed Zamed's collar and held a knife to his neck.

Zamed struggled but froze as he felt the knife's edge. "Nice stories, Zamed. What aren't you saying, is what I am wondering?"

His eyes were wide. "Nothing, nothing at all. That's all I know," he said weakly. Blood began to well from the place where the knife was held to Zamed's neck, trickling down to his shirt.

"The slitted eyes guy. More." Livia watched avidly. He was digging the knife in, just a little bit deeper.

"He was one of us. Mage. Highly trained. Came in with a four person. Didn't recognize him or see him for but a moment. Priest of some sort. Not of Christos. They were equals or partners. He left in search of something else. Didn't say what though. Tried to make me forget him but I resisted."

"Who else?" Darius asked, his voice dropping.

"No one, I swear!"

"Who. Else." The blood was beginning to run faster form the cut in Zamed's neck.

Zamed swallowed hard. "Constantius. He didn't want to be recognized, but I did."

"What did he buy?"

"Demon dyes, powders. Potions to change one's appearance. A wand."

"What did the wand do?" The knife remained steady. Livia's eyes were wide.

"Cages. It makes cages."

"For?"

Zamed was shaking now, obviously afraid. "Holding demons."

Darius paused, the frown on his face deepening. "The noble. Anything else you forgot to mention?"

"He knew he was going to die. He was trying to find out about protections from demons."

"And?"

"I sold him some powders to make people invisible from the demons."

Zamed couldn't see that the frown on Darius' face relaxed, just for a moment. "How long do they last?"

"Three days if you don't bathe."

"Anything else?"

Zamed swallowed again, appearing to be searching his memory. "He said something about rolling thunder. I didn't quite understand it. I might have heard it wrong."

"What was the quote?"

"Something about being caught in rolling thunder and no way to escape the storm."

That seemed to satisfy Darius. He let up on the knife a bit. "Demon invisibility powders. Where are they?"

"Behind the table on the floor. Three bottles. One dose each."

Darius' voice was low and filled with steel. "She gave you enough money to get out of town. I would if I were you. The information and the potions and your life. That worth about twenty gold to you?"

"Very fair."

Darius straightened and took the knife away from Zamed's neck. He stooped briefly to scoop up the powder that Zamed had indicated. Then he stepped around the counter and said, "Afternoon, Zamed." He turned and walked out of the shop. Sparing a glance back at Zamed, who was holding his hand to his neck, Livia followed her bodyguard.

On the way home, Livia asked in a low voice, "So, Darius. Looks like the boy mage did get his dyes from Zamed. Do you have any idea who he might have pissed off to get himself disappeared?"

He shook his head. "No, I wish I did. It might help with the problem here. But its all related. Seeing as it was Constans' son, it has to be."

Livia started. "Constans' son? You're right, it absolutely has to be. Much as I hate to admit it...my regent's fingerprints are all over this, it looks like."

"Or another regent, setting him up."

"True. You and I are the only people at the moment in a position to see the different parts. If someone is trying to frame him...well, I can name two people off the top of my head who have a strong interest in seeing him at least fall from power, if not die." She shuddered a bit.

"Which makes us very dangerous people indeed, and more likely that someone would want us dead."

Livia noted that us, but didn't comment on it. "I actually hope someone's trying to set him up. If not...he's protecting Optata. But she's also a hostage."

Darius glanced over at her and nodded. "Yes, she would be that. Rumor has it though Constantius's wife is barren."

"She might be. She's worried about it, at least, we've occasionally spoken of it when our husbands were out of the room, it is...something we have a bit in common. I know she loves Optata...I'm holding on to that."

"And now she has her. Coincidence?"

Livia eyed Darius. She hadn't thought of that angle on this situation before. "Possibly not." She just didn't want to think about it.

"Your next step then, lady? And by the way, you are way too nice."

She sniffed. "I'd gathered that. I'll work on being more intimidating. I want to find the girl. I have a strong feeling I need to talk to her. The Ares priest, too, but you said it would take some time to set that up. I think the girl may be Sextus' daughter, and the woman named Merouk was her mother. The timeframe is about right for that to have been a....youthful indiscretion."

"If we can find her. It would be easier if we had something of hers to track her with. Though something of Sextus' might work, if she's his daughter."

"I can get you a great number of things Sextus owned. I also have that fingernail that was found beneath the bed...it may belong to her."

He nodded. "That might be what we are looking for. Might give me a location, at least a general one."

"I'll get the fingernail when we get home, and we can see." They passed the rest of the walk home in silence.

When they reached the house, Livia said in as neutral tone as she could muster, "Darius, I need a few minutes. I need to talk to you about this, but..."

He nodded. "I will be in my quarters."

Livia reached her chambers and closed the door behind her. She stood for a moment in absolute silence, then put her back against the door and slowly slid to the floor, drawing her knees up until they almost touched her chest. She took a length of her palla in both hands and buried her face in it.

Thus muffled, she cried great undignified sobs, shuddering as her body was racked with them. She wanted her daughter, to hold her close and be reminded that there was hope in the world, something to live for. And she wanted her husband, the man who had been so afraid but had said nothing to her about it.

But neither of them were here and so Livia cried into her cloak, trying to keep the noise of her grief enclosed in this chamber, these four walls that were her only thin remnant of safety...