“Callias!” I cried.
“Here you are,” he said, genially. “Let us make our way to your domicile. As Alcinoe and I have no other lodging, and it is rather late, I take it you will put us up, give us breakfast, and charge us nothing.”
“Certainly,” I said. “Who but a boor could deny one as needy as you so trivial a boon?”
“Good fellow,” he said.
He then took some time to embrace and kiss Alcinoe.
“It is past the twentieth Ahn,” I said. “It is rather dark.”
Callias unsheathed his sword and led the way, followed by myself, and, lastly, heeling us, Alcinoe.
People of means commonly do not frequent the streets at night, and, when they do, they often hire a lantern bearer and a pair of guardsmen to attend them.
My domicile was not far away, but it always seemed farther than usual at night.
“It is a pleasant night,” said Callias.
He was in a good mood, which, given the events of the day, was not inexplicable.
“Do not sheathe your sword,” I said.
“Just smell Thassa, the salt, the wind from the sea,” he said.
“Watch the doorways,” I said.
My domicile was reached by an external stairway, leading to a long balcony, off of which were several common-wall dwellings in a single long, elevated building, on pilings, facing the harbor. It is within walking distance of the registry. Two lamps were posted at the head of the stairwell, and, in their light, one could negotiate not only the stairs but, though with more difficulty, the balcony, which tended to the left of the stairwell.
We ascended the stairway, went left, and, a few doors later, were before my domicile.
“Wait!” I said. “That is not my signature knot.”
“No,” said Callias, “it is mine.”
Many doors in Brundisium, particularly in the more impecunious quarters, are tied shut, often by a leather cord tied about two staples, one on the door and the other on the jamb. To enter the door, one simply unties the knot and frees the door. Whereas anyone may untie the knot the tying of the knot is a secret, difficult to duplicate except by one familiar with the knot. If, say, the proprietor returns to the dwelling and discovers the knot is missing or different, that suggests that the area has been entered without authorization. Doors may be secured from the inside, usually by two bars. In some dwellings, of a somewhat better sort, such as mine, the signature-knot fastening is combined with a latch or bolt arrangement, in which the drawing of a latch string, put through a small hole in the door, moves the latch or bolt. When one is absent, or within and, say, expecting company, the latch string may be left free, outside the door. When one wishes, one draws the latch string within, which prevents the door from being opened, except from the inside. In more prosperous areas, generally farther from the waterfront and the warehouse district, metal locks, answering to metal keys, are more common. Some of these locks are massive, with corresponding keys. Indeed, the keys might function as weapons.
Callias undid his knot, drew the latch string, freeing the latch, and opened the door.
“After you,” he said.
“The lamp is lit,” I said.
“I left it on,” he said.
“I will see if I can find you something to eat,” I said.
“Do not bother,” he said. “I had a pleasant supper at a tavern.”
“Good,” I said.
“I trust you fed well,” he said.
“The vendors had something left,” I said.
“Splendid,” he said.
“It is late,” I said. “I shall arrange some bedding.”
“When I am finished with Alcinoe,” he said, “she shall sleep at my feet.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Friend,” said Callias.
“Yes,” I said.
“You have treated me well,” said Callias. “You were kind in the tavern. You offered me money. You befriended me. You gave me lodging. I am grateful.”
“It is nothing,” I said.
He pressed into my hand a tiny beadlike object.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
“Low Scribes do not have such things,” I said.
“Be the first,” he said.
“I cannot accept this,” I said. My view of rich men, and, in particular, of Cosians, was in the process of being suddenly and radically transformed. They were, after all, were they not, generous and noble sorts?
“Would you dishonor me, by refusing?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“And there will be more later,” he said. “Where are you going?”
“To
“Hold,” said Callias, “it is late, and dark, you are unarmed.”
“No matter,” I said.
“You would carry a golden tarsk through the streets of Brundisium, at this Ahn?” he inquired.
“Who would know?” I asked.
“One need not know,” he said. “You could be robbed for a copper tarsk, for a tarsk-bit.”
“I wish you well!” I said. “You, too, Alcinoe!”
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
“I take it you have a sudden craving for paga,” said Callias.
“A sudden craving, yes, dear friend,” I said, lifting my clenched fist, holding the tiny, beadlike coin, a golden tarsk, “but scarcely for paga.”
“What then could you possibly have in mind?” he asked.
“Come now, dear friend,” I said, “can you not recall something which I could not hitherto afford, something in a yellow camisk, with bells on her left ankle?”
“The paga girl,” he said, “the slender brunette?”
“Of course!” I said.
“She is a barbarian,” said Callias.
“One I want in my arms,” I said.
“You would do that, you would buy her, a barbarian?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes!”
“Why?” he asked.
“Be serious,” I said.
“Barbarians are not that rare,” he said, “not in the larger markets. They are brought from that place called Earth.”
“Surely you have noted,” I said, “that they are generally of extremely high quality.”
“They are selected with that in mind,” he said.
“It is not simply that she is beautiful, that she is exquisite, that she is delicate, that she has deep, profound eyes, lips made for kisses, small wrists and ankles, that her body is rich in slave curves, in the many turnings and planes which the auctioneer’s whip calls to our attention. It goes mysteriously beyond such things, eluding calculations and measurements.”
“To you,” said Callias, “she is different, and special.”
“So tamely put,” I said, “such words manage only to point, only to hint, at ineluctable, mysterious matchings, and sensings.”
“Perhaps,” said Callias.
“And what does Alcinoe mean to you?” I asked.
“Ah!” smiled Callias.
