The call came quickly and roused Marus out of an uneasy nap. “Marus! Marus! Come quickly. You are needed.” The young page shouted as he searched through Belisarius’ house, unsure where to find Marus.

“In here,” Marus called. “What causes such urgency in your voice?”

“You are requested at the palace. Belisarius sent me to get you. There is some sickness and your knowledge of herbs is needed.”

“Who is sick?” Marus held his breath.

“I do not know. I only know I was to find you and bring you back with your herbs.”

“If I do not know what the sickness is, I do not know what herb to bring.”

“Then bring them all.”

Marus looked around. He grabbed a pouch and put in fungugeek if the problem was of the lungs, fennel if relaxation was needed, elecampane if a digestion was inadequate. He followed the young messenger and found himself entering one of the rooms with eating couches. A middle-aged woman was laying on one couch, curled up and holding her stomach. Marus did not recognize her.

He gazed into her eyes and saw enlarged pupils. He took her hand and felt hot, dry, red skin. “When did this start?” he asked.

The woman licked her lips and looked past Marus, around the room. “Help me,” she said. “Somebody help me.”

Her husband was by her side, fussing over her and telling her to be patient, that Belisarius had summoned someone who could help.

Marus knew the symptoms. She had eaten the jam. He looked around the room and saw Belisarius’ wife, Antonia coming toward him. “Marus, you have helped me when I was ill. This woman needs your attention. She is wife of a prominent merchant. Her symptoms came on suddenly.”

“Have someone from the kitchen bring milk for her to drink. It will dilute what she has ingested.”

Antonia looked at Theodora who was standing nearby. Theodora gave the order and the young messenger was dispatched to the kitchen.

The woman drank the milk and quickly threw it up along with the contents of her stomach. The vomit, uncontrollably ejected, fell upon the carpet in the eating room, giving a stench to the entire room.

Theodora stepped back and asked if the woman might be more comfortable elsewhere.

Belisarius watched from the sidelines.

The woman’s husband let out a distraught cry as the woman continued to retch. Marus held the milk container to the woman’s lips and encouraged her to drink more. She complied. This time the milk stayed down.

Several guests were milling about, watching the sick woman in her misery. Theodora walked around to each guest and said something to them, and one by one they left. Marus supposed she was apologizing for the spectacle and soothing any gossip that might arise from this incident. The woman’s symptoms calmed and a litter was called to carry her to her home. The woman and her worried husband departed.

Someone arrived with a bucket and cleaning cloths to remove the woman’s retchings. Theodora examined what was on the floor and went to look at the table of food. She turned to Marus. “She was poisoned, was she not?”

“It would appear so. She is still in danger. I will tend to her the next few days to see if I can help.”

“Good. We can not have wives of prominent merchants dying for no reason. Bad politics.”

Belisarius stepped forward. “Do you recognize the symptoms, Marus?”

“Well, many plants can cause such symptoms. There is not much one can do. Try to get the offending substance out of the body. Treat any residual symptoms. Make them comfortable. Hope for the best.”

“It was the jam.” Theodora declared. She held the small serving dish in her hand. “And I was the actual target.” All eyes turned in her direction.

“How do you know that?” It was Justinian who spoke.

“One only has to look at what came back out of her to know what went in. The color and texture were apparent. If anyone doubts me, let them eat more jam.” Theodora extended her hand with the bowl and offered it to each person in the room. All declined. “Bring me the cook who prepared the jam.” Theodora spoke softly to the imperial guard who stood at the doorway. He left and returned a few moments later with Sarah.

Marus lowered his head and assisted the person cleaning up the floor. Sarah bowed before Theodora and then stood wringing her hands, a look of dread on her face.

“Did you prepare this jam?” Theodora held out the small bowl.

“Yes, good Augusta.” Sarah had already heard the rumor that someone was sick from the meal. “I prepared many of the dishes on the table.”

“Then you should partake of some of this.” Theodora walked over to the table spread with food and broke off a handful of bread and dipped it in the jam. She held it out to Sarah.

Sarah stepped forward and took it from Theodora’s hand. She did not hesitate as she put it to her mouth.

“More.” Theodora’s gaze penetrated Sarah’s resolve.

Sarah took another bite. Then another until the morsel was consumed.

“You may go.” With a slight hand gesture, Theodora dismissed her.

Marus watched the exchange in horror. Sarah would certainly die without any intervention. Should he go to her and offer aid? Might that arouse suspicion of him? He looked up to see Belisarius watching him closely. Marus headed to the door to leave. Belisarius intercepted him and said, “You seem ill yourself, Marus. Are you unwell also?”

“No, my general. It saddens me to see poisoning of an innocent. I expect death on the battlefield, not here.”

“Ah, Marus, you still retain much of the innocence of your youth. Politics can be deadlier than the battlefield. I fear Theodora is correct in her reasoning.”

Marus departed and hurried to his quarters. He slept fitfully. The dream added a new dimension. As he pounded the Hippodrome door, he looked up to see Justinian looking out a palace window directly at him. Mocking him. Laughing at his misery. Theodora joined Justinian and kissed him on the cheek. She pointed at Marus. They both laughed.

He awoke soaked in sweat.

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