The officers and Procopius accepted the explanation with skepticism.

Marus gathered his belongings including his herbs for both cooking and healing. As the sun started its descent from high in the sky, he was on his way back to Constantinople.

His efforts to get more information from the messenger were unsuccessful. Each time Marus asked a question the messenger would only say, “Let us make haste. Your skills are required.”

Marus never even learned his name.

Upon arriving in Constantinople after several hard days of riding Marus wanted nothing more than a soft bed and a good meal. That would have to wait. The messenger took Marus directly to the palace.

The imperial guards flung open doors as the messenger led Marus to Justinian’s private quarters. It was only on this final door that the messenger knocked softly and spoke in a whisper to someone on the other side.

The doors opened. The messenger motioned for Marus to enter. He stepped aside and closed the door behind Marus.

The atmosphere in the room was stifling. A fire blazed in the fireplace keeping a pot of boiling water sending steam throughout the room. The steam had no place to go as the windows were covered. Oil lamps illuminated parts of the room creating moving shadows in the flickering light. The scent of morango tea filled his nostrils. A figure walked toward him.

“Hello, Marus.” The voice was raspy, raw, a hoarse whisper.

Marus instantly recognized it. “My glorious Caesar, what do you require of me?” He started to bow, but felt a hand on his shoulder.

“No formalities today. Today I am a worried husband who needs your skills to help his ailing wife.” Justinian motioned toward the bed.

Marus saw a figure laying there. He would never have recognized Theodora. Her gaunt body barely discernable under thin covers. Her face, pale and wan was in such contradiction to the way Marus remembered her. Her expression envisaged pain held inward.

Marus went to her side and placed a hand on her brow. Warm, but not fevered. “How long has she been like this?”

“She has complained of not having her usual energy for some months. But has only been abed for several days. We remembered your treatment of the great pestilence and have been following your methods, but it does not help. The imperial physician has tried bloodletting and withdrawal of certain foods. It is to no avail.”

“She does not have the pestilence. Remove the window coverings so that fresh air can fill her lungs.”

Justinian went to the window and pulled the coverings off. They fell heavily to the floor.

Marus followed his actions, astonished that he did it himself. He had expected a servant to be called. He sat next to Theodora’s bedside and observed her condition more closely. Shallow breaths came in short bursts.

She opened her eyes. “Marus. Thank you for coming. I feel so tired. My body hurts. Can you relieve the pain?”

Marus thought of the Devil’s cherries he had collected so long ago. In very small quantities they would relieve pain. He remembered the blackberry jam.

Justinian sat on the other side of her bed holding her hand. “Marus can heal you, my love. Remember how he saved me from the pestilence?’ He looked at Marus. “You can save her.”

Marus could not tell if it was a question or a statement. He was unsure whether he wanted to save her or not. He had long wished her death at his own hands and had schemed and manipulated others to try and accomplish that task. He remembered the anguish he felt at Sophia’s death. The loss. The loneliness. The lack of desire for any other. Joy and happiness had been absent for much of his life. The rage he had felt toward Justinian for causing her death welled up.  

His heart began to pound. Now was his chance. He was being asked to heal her when no one else could. No one would suspect anything if he were not successful. He would have tried his best. Not everyone recovers. And then Justinian would suffer. He would understand the loss, the loneliness, the lack of joy and happiness. It would be just.

He looked over at Justinian holding Theodora’s hand, whispering encouraging words only she could hear. This emperor, who rebuilt the city of Constantinople, who concurred foreign lands to rebuild the Roman Empire, who codified Roman law so all could understand, who ended discord within the church. This man sat beside the bed of his beloved and wondered what he could do. He had reached his limit of capabilities. In his relationship with Theodora, he was not able to do great things.

Marus realized he was staring. He suddenly felt like an intruder in an intimate moment. He cleared his throat. “I must go to my chambers in the house of Belisarius. There, I have herbs more suited to this situation. In the meantime, make a tea with this.” He handed a small pouch to Justinian. “It will give her restful sleep.”

Justinian nodded.

Marus left the palace and made his way to his chamber where he quickly found his supply of Devil’s cherries.

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