This vivid historical mystery opens in 530 A.D. in Constantinople. It's a way-too-hot May afternoon. We find ourselves in the close third-person viewpoint of John, the Lord Chamberlain to the Emperor Justinian. The Emperor requires his attendance at the games happening in the Hippodrome to celebrate the founding of the city. So John sits, crammed in tight with other court officials in the imperial box. His heavy court robes threaten to stifle him. He fidgets on the hard marble bench. The sun beats down and intensifies the reek of human sweat and animal dung.

Then a magnificent black bull races into the arena. It is the sacred animal to Mithra, the sun-god that John worships – and he's so overcome at the sight that he whispers his god's name, forgetting that he must hide his paganism in the court of the Christian Emperor. Three acrobats join the bull and put on an amazing display of bull-leaping that evokes the ancient days of Crete. The bull-leapers disturb John even more because one of them resembles his long-lost lover Cornelia. It has taken John most of his life to reconcile himself to the cruel fate that swept him out of Cornelia's life and turned him into a eunuch.

Yes, he's a eunuch. In John's time and place, eunuchs occupy a special niche within a royal court. Unable to procreate, they are unaffected by the common temptation for a liegeman to overthrow his master to establish a dynasty of his own. Therefore, they can be trusted with unprecedented levels of power and access to the secret places of the court.

Through his formidable competence, analytical mind, and sense of discretion, John has made himself indispensable to the Emperor Justinian. You'll need to read onwards in the John the Eunuch mystery series to find out exactly how. Even so, his position at court is far from safe because (1) he is a secret pagan serving a Christian Emperor, and (2) he has incurred the animosity of the Empress Theodora, a psychopath with almost unlimited power to do whatever she wants.

And that's just John's back-story. He is about to find himself in the center of a most perplexing murder investigation. He and his friends leave the games, chatting amongst themselves. Anatolius and Leukos express interest in visiting a soothsayer to predict their futures.

It comes as no surprise that Anatolius, the irrepressible young secretary to the Emperor, might want his fortune told especially in regard to improving his love-life. But Leukos, the sober Keeper of the Plate, hardly seems the type. But the two men go their separate ways, leaving John to walk with gruff Felix, the captain of the Imperial Guard. As John and Felix stroll through the increasingly chaotic and surrealistic landscape of Constantinople, they end up at the scene of a crime. Leukos lies dead in a filthy alley, the victim of a random homicide. Or is it random?

John must investigate. The number of suspects and the complexity of the crime will tax even his considerable resources. As the story unfolds, we readers get treated to a cast of unforgettably vivid characters: the mysterious bull-leapers; a flamboyant Egyptian woman who runs a brothel; a cranky blind caretaker of a cemetery; a Christian ascetic who lives atop a high stone pillar; a forthright and impatient knight from King Arthur's court; and the corrupt Patriarch in charge of the architectural marvel that is Hagia Sophia, the Christian Church of the Holy Wisdom.

One of the most endearing characters is John's loyal servant Peter. One gets the feeling that the crusty old guy has had quite the checkered past though he now sings hymns (as he scrubs out the lavatory) and adheres to the Christian faith. He disapproves of John's paganism, but would sooner die than betray him. Peter is stubborn, superstitious, and full of easily-wounded pride. John himself is also a complex character: stern and reticent, keenly observant, and possessing a wry sense of humor.

One for Sorrow, published in 1999, may invite comparisons to the 2007 Edgar-Award winning mystery The Janissary Tree by Jason Goodwin. Both feature detectives who are also eunuchs placed highly in the royal court of Constantinople (or Istanbul in the case of Goodwin's book which is set in 1836).

I enjoyed both books, but found that One for Sorrow appeals more to my personal tastes. To me The Janissary Tree is overwritten in places whereas One for Sorrow is streamlined and concise with a plot that races along through the viewpoints of the various colorful characters. One for Sorrow also anchors you in vivid sensory detail on every page. The Janissary Tree tends to interweave a lot of historical backdrop into the narrative. One for Sorrow makes brief allusions to historical events and then supplements this with a handy glossary of time-specific terms.

The heroes from both books could be described as self-controlled due to a similar reason: the need to transcend the horror of being made into eunuchs without becoming overwhelmed by rage and grief. My main gripe about The Janissary Tree centered on Yashim not having much personality at all – of being reserved to the point of invisibility. By contrast, I got a more complete understanding of John and how both his military background and his stoical religion (Mithraism) would tend to influence him to become so taciturn and dour in response to the tragedy of his earlier years.

One for Sorrow is the first book in the ongoing John the Eunuch mystery series by writing team Mary Reed and Eric Mayer (who have a great website for mystery fans located here). The other books in the series are Two for Joy, Three for a Letter, Four for a Boy, Five for Silver, and Six for Gold. Their latest book Seven for a Secret will be released this April 15th (and reviewed here next week.) One for Sorrow is available at Amazon through this link: One for Sorrow (A John the Eunuch Mystery)