Free Five for Silver: A John, the Lord Chamberlain Mystery by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer Page A

clay, Hypatia.”
    The young woman gave the pot a final stir and then stepped over to the window. Each pane held a wavering image of the flame from the lamp on the table. She leaned closer to the glass. “How can you put your faith in a god who visits such punishment as this pestilence upon his creatures?”
    Peter quickly made the sign of his religion. “This world may be full of horror, but it is only this world. Who can say what lies beyond? We might well convince ourselves there is nothing outside this kitchen, but lean close enough to that dark glass, look through the reflections from our small lamp, and you’ll see countless lights blazing forth beyond.”
    “For an old army cook you preach very well, Peter,” Hypatia replied softly. “In fact, better than some prelates.”
    “We must remain humble! After all, there may well be prelates who are better cooks than I am.” Peter began to smile, but then his face darkened. “Gregory and I had been discussing this world and the next for some time.”
    “And those words were composed for his ears?”
    “Yes.” Peter bowed his head.
    Hypatia rubbed away condensation on the window panes. In the quiet kitchen, her finger made a faint squeaking sound against the glass. Boiling water murmured busily in the pot. Now the smell of bacon joined the odor of dill. “I might believe in your god if he sent a messenger to me, Peter, as he did to you. Yet why would you receive a message about your friend when so many are dying?”
    Peter observed the ways of heaven were beyond understanding.
    “They’re certainly beyond mine. Those clay scorpions you scorn are more much straightforward. Besides, do you think I haven’t noticed your lucky coin?”
    Peter gave her a questioning look.
    “The coin you keep in your room. I’ve seen it now and then when I’m cleaning.”
    Peter related how he had found the coin in Isauria. “And consider this, Hypatia. Paul himself might have held that very coin!”
    “It could have magickal powers then,” the young woman suggested slyly.
    “You make it sound like one of those…” Peter hesitated, choosing his words with care. “…foreign talismans.”
    “This sort of foreign talisman, Peter?”
    Hypatia took off a small pendant suspended on a thin, leather thong and handed it to him for inspection. “It’s an udjat. They’re very highly thought of in Egypt.”
    The green faience piece was a stylized representation of a large eye, with a trailing, curved tail descending from its left side.
    “That’s an Eye of Horus,” Hypatia went on. “It protects its wearers against evil and ill health. Everyone in this city should be wearing one, if you ask me.”
    “What an odd thing,” Peter observed. “And without intending blasphemy, it reminds me of the all-seeing eyes of the Lord.”
    “Why don’t you put your coin on a chain and wear it, Peter? Then you’d be protected wherever you go.”
    “But why are you convinced it is lucky?”
    Hypatia beamed. “Why, because it bears the likeness of Fortuna, of course.”

Chapter Eight
    Triton had not moved a great distance from his father’s dwelling, but he had fallen a long way from its comfortable surroundings.
    The address to which Sylvanus had directed John lay not far from the silversmiths’ quarter, across the street from a squat edifice completely occupied, according to the plaque beside its entrance, by furriers. Chunks of the plaster facing of the apartment building where Triton lived had fallen off, revealing rough brickwork beneath. Many of its grubby windows displayed shattered panes or shutters hanging drunkenly from broken hinges.
    Just inside a low archway leading to the building’s inner courtyard, two chipped columns, which looked as though they’d been recently scavenged from a refuse pit, called attention to a splintered door.
    John knocked and waited. Looking back across the street, he could see a formless brown heap against the wall of the building opposite.