The fourth day after the bungled hangings was relatively quiet. Marus spent the day with Sophia in her apartment. At first, the day promised to be relief from the rioters. Marus held Sophia and tried to ease her rising worry. They relished each other’s embraces until exhaustion. Finally, Sophia said, “My love, we must go out. There is no food here. We must find an eating place or go to market.”

“It has been quiet. Maybe the worst is over. Let us make our way.”

They dressed and went into the streets just as the news shouter was walking past. “Oh ho!” Marus greeted him. “What news today? The streets seem quiet.”

“Ah, friend Marus. They are quiet because everyone is meeting at the Hippodrome. Justinian will speak. The rioters are passionate in their zeal for God’s will. All are angry with Justinian. The Greens carry anger because they are taxed beyond their means. The Blues carry anger because they are taxed at all. It is an uneasy alliance, but an alliance nonetheless.”

“I do not carry the passions of either. I just want to fill our bellies. We are headed to the market.”

“You will find the market empty. Go to the Hippodrome. Vendors will be there, selling their wares. You can satiate your hunger and witness Justinian’s words.”

Marus looked at Sophia. She nodded. They headed toward the Hippodrome.

>>>>><<<<< 

The burned out part of the Hippodrome did not impede anyone or even distract from the issues at hand. Marus and Sophia headed for their usual seats at the far end, squarely among the Green supporters. But there were no races today. The rioters had been using the Hippodrome as a central meeting place to organize their efforts. Fires were set throughout the city. No building was exempt. Several senators who were supporters of Justinian’s strict policies lost their houses to the flames. Their distraught families headed to any relative who would take them in. Many times, that meant going to the countryside where the political passions were not as strong and safety was possible.

Peter started yelling and waving his arms when he saw Marus. They had not seen each other since the start of the unrest. “Marus, I am so glad to see you. I worried about your safety. And yours also, Sophia. My heart gladdens knowing you both are well.”

“Peter, I also find relief at your safety,” Marus echoed. “What news have you?”

“I am no longer employed. My patron, for whom I was creating a floor mosaic has had his home burnt to the ground. Seems he was too close to Justinian. I moved back into a small apartment with other mosaicists.  I fear we all will have to go to the countryside to find employment if Justinian’s supporters all flee.”

“Indeed. Well, the country life is not all bad.” Marus clapped his friend on the back.

“You are forever the optimist, Marus,” Peter laughed.

A hush fell over the crowd and all three looked up to see Justinian in the Imperial Box. He raised his hand, holding a book. Marus squinted to see. It was a Bible. He was speaking, but Marus had to wait until the shouters had repeated his words several times to the crowd before they reached his ears.

“I have made mistakes,” the closest shouter proclaimed, “and I acknowledge them.” Justinian waited for his words to be spoken throughout the arena before continuing. “I promise to right your grievances.” The crowd cheered as this was passed along. “The prisoners will be pardoned to a life sentence.” He held the Bible aloft once again. But the crowd’s response this time was not cheers, but chants of “Free! Free the prisoners! Free the prisoners!” The chant rolled like a wave until the entire Hippodrome, both Blues and Greens were in unison.

Something from the stands closest to the Imperial Box sailed through the air and hit Justinian on the shoulder. He stumbled backward more from surprise than actual pain. No one had ever dared throw anything at the Emperor. He held the Bible higher. Another projectile, this time a piece of rotten fruit flew through the air and struck his head.

A cry from the stands close by was clearly heard by the Emperor. “No pardon. Full freedom for the prisoners. Or we will take your throne.”

A barrage of rotten fruit and vegetables as well as small objects were hurled into the Imperial Box. Justinian paused only briefly, then retreated to the passageway out the back and into the adjoining palace.

“What just happened?” Marus strained to see the action in the Imperial Box. The crowd had reacted so quickly to the Emperor’s last words that the shouters did not have sufficient time to relay the message the entirety of the hippodrome. Everyone was on their feet, straining to hear above the din that was growing in volume. Marus glanced from Peter to Sophia who both looked equally confused.

“Something is happening.” Sophia pointed to movement in the Blues section. People were shuffling about. One man was being pushed forward, toward the Imperial Box. He resisted the efforts of the pushers until they took him by the arms and forcibly pulled him into the vacated Imperial seat.

The crowd began to quiet, all eyes on the person sitting in Justinian’s throne. No one dared to sit where only an emperor was allowed. One man who was among the ones dragging him forward held up his hand. The shouters along the inner rim of the hippodrome turned their full attention to him while motioning with flailing arms for the crowd in their section to be silent. Something was about to be proclaimed.  

“Attention citizens!” he began. He waited for silence to descend over the entire arena. His words echoed as shouters carried the message. Spectators sat, ready to hear what was said.

“Justinian has retreated. He refuses to obey the will of God.”

Heads nodded as the words were carried round. Comments were whispered. Everyone looked to each other for approval.

“We need a new leader. Behold, Hypatius, nephew to Anastasius, our true ruler.” The speaker indicated the man sitting in the chair so recently warmed by Justinian. As the words impacted the crowd, a wave of expectation washed around the hippodrome.

Everyone knew the name. Hypatius would have been ruler had it not been for an uprising when his uncle Anastasius was on the throne. Thirty years earlier, Justin, Justinian’s predecessor had overthrown him and taken control. Now the idea of Anastasius’ line returning to power did not seem so far fetched. Spectators consulted each other and nodded approval. It was a viable option. Slowly, a chant began to form: “Hypatius! Hypatius! Hypatius!”

Hypatius did not rise to the sound of his name being chanted. The speaker, standing next to him, took his hand and stretched it aloft, causing him to stand in a pose of victory.  The crowd roared their approval.

Marus looked at Sophia and Peter. “What do you think? Do you know this Hypatius?”

“He is of royal blood. Somewhat.” Peter appeared deep in thought. “One of my fellow artisans created a mosaic in his home. It is modest. He seemed to be content to spend his time in his garden. Taking the throne does not seem to be his nature.”

“He certainly does not look eager to be sitting on the throne.” Sophia nodded in the direction of the imperial box where a figure could be seen slumped over. The throne that looked so regal when Justinian occupied it, now looked to be only a chair.

The imperial box grew silent three men surrounded Hypatius talking animatedly, arms waving and looking out to the patiently waiting crowd. Several times someone would lean in seemingly to urge him to speak. He shook his head each time.

Someone from the crowd yelled, “Speak to us, Hypatius!” The men in the imperial box pulled him to a standing position, but no words formed in his mouth. Another threw something at the box. Soon the crowd was again on its feet venting their anger. A few headed for the exit doors. The majority followed. Smoke once again billowed as fires were set at the few remaining city structures. The crowd spread out to different parts of the city, setting fires as they went.

Two well known senators, representatives of the Blues, were visible among the men encouraging Hypatius. They scurried out, presumably to save their homes from the wrath gripping the rioters.

“I want no part of this madness,” Marus said as the three left their seats. They headed for Sophia’s apartment, miraculously untouched. The rioters targeted public buildings and homes of the wealthy. Common citizens were spared the destruction.

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