“Doing good.” He showed a white scar on his palm. “I owe you, Surgeon.”
“Nonsense, I’m pleased everything turned out well.” Getorius slipped a silver coin into the man’s hand. “Our friend Sigisvult is being held on a ridiculous charge. Do you think we could give him this food my wife brought?”
“The architect? He’s in an anteroom down the hall. I’ll take you there.”
When Charadric went with them to point out Sigisvult’s room, Getorius noticed that the Huns were no longer on duty. “Hopefully, these Goths are the best men the Ravenna garrison has to offer,” he murmured to Arcadia.
“You said the other evening that they were generally loyal.”
“To Aetius, anyway. The man has more contacts among barbarian tribes than anyone since Flavius Stilicho.”
Sigisvult was in a small anteroom off the atrium hallway, across from where Galla Placidia had held her dinner. It had been furnished with a cot, a folding stool, and an army field table. Several books were scattered on the bed, where the architect was reading one by the light of a lamp. He looked up when the couple entered.
“Getorius…Arcadia. It…it’s good of you to come.”
“We brought you some dinner.” Arcadia looked around for a place to put her basket.
“Let me move that game off the table.”
Getorius looked at the animal-headed pieces on the checkered board. “Whom have you been playing Hounds and Jackals with?”
Sigisvult laughed as he placed the board on the floor. “My own personal bodyguard.”
“No cheating while he’s out of the room,” Getorius jested.
“He said he was going to the latrine…more likely to cadge food from the kitchen. Again,” Sigisvult added more seriously, “thanks for coming.”
“How are you?” Arcadia asked.
“Innocent.”
“We know that,” Getorius agreed, “but whom do you think might be involved in this?”
Sigisvult sat back on the cot and leaned against the wall. “Miniscius, my construction master, must have known about that hidden niche.”
“Has he been questioned?”
“It seems they can’t find him.”
“What?”
“Getorius, he’s disappeared,” Sigisvult said. “I…I’ve had time to think about what will happen when that document is made public. Communities that accept it will be pitted against those that don’t. It will make all other civil wars seem like…like playing that board game. And the impact on the Judeans will be devastating…literally.”
“We thought the same thing,” Arcadia told him, “and whoever forged the papyrus must realize that. Why would they want to cause such a civil crisis?”
Footsteps in the hall indicated that the guard was returning. Arcadia glanced out the door and was surprised to see Surrus Renatus walking alongside the man. The archdeacon carried a round ivory box and glass container with a gilt cover.
When he saw her, the churchman looked as startled as she. “I…I’ve brought Sigisvult the Holy Sacrament,” he explained, flushing. “The bishop requested that I do so.”
“It’s a bit late in the day,” Arcadia commented, without intending to be sarcastic.
“I’ve been distributing food with my deacons.” Renatus brushed past her and saw Getorius. “I didn’t expect either of you here, you must both leave. Sigisvult should receive the Sacrament in privacy.”
“No, let them stay,” Sigisvult told him. “I have nothing to confess—certainly nothing to do with what happened in that mausoleum.”
“They may return afterward,” Renatus insisted. “Guard, you must also go out.”
“It’s all right, Sigisvult,” Getorius said. “We’ll wait in the garden.” While the guard went back toward the kitchen, Getorius took his wife’s arm and led her past an atrium pool. It was filled to the brim with water that was an opaque gray from being stirred up by the deluge off the roof. Even the bronze wellhead over the storage cistern was full. Rain had washed the garden trees and plants free of dust, but had also encouraged a crop of weeds to sprout up in the damp soil between them. A few of the tropical palms had not survived the recent cold, and now their withered fronds hung limply in black, twisted shapes. At the low wall around the plantings Getorius helped Arcadia sit on the stone ledge.
Both sat in silence, until she said, “Getorius, we have to help Sigisvult establish his innocence.”
“I’ve been thinking of that, too. Galla Placidia could order a trial, but the magistrate would learn about the papyri. She isn’t ready to do that.”
“Let’s hope Theokritos can quickly prove the documents to be forgeries.”
“He should, with his knowledge of old books and scroll materials in his library.”
“Yes, he’ll probably…” Arcadia cocked her head at a low, menacing growl that came from an area to her right. “What was that?”
Getorius laughed. “The Augustus keeps wild animals in his zoo at that end of the garden. Want to look at them?”
“Let’s, if we’re allowed.”
Arcadia eased herself off the wall. Getorius took her hand and had started toward the zoo, when the sound of a glass breaking sounded from the hallway.
“That came from Sigisvult’s room!” he cried, then turned and bolted toward the area.
When Getorius reached the anteroom, Renatus was standing outside the door, his face white as he supported himself on the jamb.
“God’s hand! I saw the hand of the Lord,” he babbled. “The judgment of the Almighty is revealed.”
“What are you talking about?” Getorius looked past him and saw Sigisvult lying on the floor, his face a bluish color. Shards of the communion wine cup were scattered beside him. Getorius knelt and felt his throat. “There’s no pulse. What happened here Archdeacon?”
“The Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son,” Renatus gibbered.
Arcadia sucked in a breath of horror when she came in and saw Sigisvult. “Getorius, what happened?”
“I’m trying to find out, but Renatus keeps prattling nonsense. Archdeacon, I asked you what happened.”
“The Testament of John reveals it.”
“Reveals what? Make sense, man. Tell me what took place. You were giving him the sacramental bread and wine?”
“The judgment of God—”
Getorius stood up in a flash of anger, scattering some of the glass fragments with his boot as he grabbed Renatus’ shoulder. “Tell me how Sigisvult died!”
The archdeacon shook off his hand, pushed the
