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himself the older man’s rival. Narses was ambitious. John was not, but lack of ambition was a weakness one did not admit at court.
    “If I find myself needing help, Narses, I may avail myself of your offer.”
    “What makes you suppose you don’t need my help right now? You may not be in a position to have noticed, but the grumbling from the senate can be heard halfway to the Golden Gate. There are even whisperings now inside the palace walls. In the streets and squares, men are setting words aside in favor of stones, torches, and knives.”
    “Everyone in the city realizes that.”
    “But some of us appreciate it more than others. Those of us who lived through the anarchy of Anastasius’ reign do not want the factions to return to the prominence they had then. Do you remember how they stoned Anasatasius at the Hippodrome? How they sided with the usurper heretic Vitalian? How Anastasius went to the factions without his crown, and humiliated himself to keep the peace? You do not, because you were not in Constantinople that many years ago.”
    “If you will excuse me, I must return home, Narses. It is late.”
    They had reached the end of the walkway, presided over by a bronze of Emperor Constantine, the founder of the city. Clearly, the man had been a soldier. A square featured face with a cleft chin sat upon a bull-like neck. The statue presented a sad contrast to the shrunken figure of the treasurer who wielded so much power in the present empire.
    John turned away to cross the courtyard leading to his residence.
    Narses raised his hand, gesturing John to stop. His voluminous sleeve slipped down, revealing a preternaturally thin wrist, the wrist of a skeleton or a starving beggar. Rings decorating his fingers flashed in the torch light. “Justinian intended to present the Green and the Blue to the masses at the Hippodrome. A surprising and magnanimous gesture which would surely have pacified all but the most hardened troublemakers.”
    “They were not murdered on my watch.”
    “I know that, my young colleague, but does Justinian appreciate it? What do you suppose Theodora is telling him? I am glad she does not display such enmity toward me as she does to you. Perhaps you do not realize the extent of your danger. Otherwise you would not risk failing in your assignment by refusing to employ every means at your disposal. And mine.”
    “The means at your disposal?”
    “Why should we not assist one another? After all, we are much alike, are we not? And consider. The credit would belong to both of us. Your failure will belong to you alone.”
    “I would prefer to do the job myself and take credit for my success.”
    Narses lowered his hand, his gaunt face as expressionless as that of a snake. “You are a naive young man, John. You may find such success to be as unhealthy for you as failure.”

Chapter Four
    January 11, 532
    The full-bearded excubitor loitering near the Chalke gate to the palace took another bite from a wrinkled apple and pulled his cloak tighter around his broad shoulders. He looked toward the mouth of the wide thoroughfare of the Mese, past the beggars and hawkers of soiled goods both animate and inanimate who clustered in the courtyard near the massive bronze doors from which the gate took its name, not so close as to attract unwanted attention from the guards on either side but near enough to catch the attention of those passing in and out of the grounds.
    On many mornings Felix stood guard here but today he was on watch for his own reasons. They did not include buying the half dead chicken thrust toward his face by a beggar, who had probably just stolen the pitiful fowl from a vendor. He swore and waved the man away.
    Felix’s colleague Bato laughed. “A bird like that’s enough to make a man stick to apples and turnips like our emperor.” Having finished his own apple, Bato tossed the gnawed core to the ground. It hardly had time to collect filth before it was snatched up and devoured