Drosos stopped in the act of loosening the buckles that held his lorica and said, 'I decided against it. She's tempting enough but… I never trust a slave in bed. Who knows why they're there?'
Chrysanthos held out the larger of the two cups to Drosos and lifted the other. 'Well, here's to forgetfulness.'
'Amen,' said Drosos as he took the cup. He drank greedily, a little thread of wine sliding down his chin from the corner of his mouth. He wiped this away on his cuff. 'No, I changed my mind about the Egyptian girl.'
'You miss your Roman widow,' Chrysanthos said, making the suggestion a teasing one; in Drosos' mercurial mood he did not know how he would react to such a remark.
'Yes,' he said after taking a second draught. 'That is just what I need,' he told Chrysanthos.
'The wine or the widow?'
'Either. Both.' He picked up the cup a third time but did not drink at once. 'She would understand.'
'Then it's a pity she's not here,' said Chrysanthos, feeling his way with his Captain.
'Yes, a great pity.' He drank and held out his cup for more.
They sat together until the sun came up; gradually their words became slurred and indistinct and their thoughts no longer held together. But though Drosos drank with single-minded determination, the anguish remained at the back of his eyes and nothing he could do or say touched it.
* * *
When Eugenia came into the vestibule of her house she was startled to discover Simones waiting for her. 'Is… has something happened to your mistress?' she asked, unable to account for his presence and wanting her majordomo to hear whatever it was that the eunuch had come to tell her.
'She is doing much the same,' said Simones as he made a reverence to Eugenia.
'The General then? Has there been a change in his condition?' She felt puzzled and worried and when she spoke again, her words came faster than before. 'You are disturbing me, Simones.'
'Perhaps you might spare me a little time, great lady.' He sounded so self-deprecating that Eugenia nearly called him insolent.
'I have other tasks,' she said, starting to move away.
'It is important, or I would not have come.' He looked at her directly, without any apology. 'There are some questions that I hope you will answer for me.'
'What questions are those?' Her voice was sharp.
'They are only for your welfare, great lady. You need not fear my motives.' He glanced at her majordomo. 'If you were to grant me a little time and privacy… ?'
'Oh, if you're determined,' she said, her mouth turning down with irritation. 'The smaller reception room is this way.' She indicated the way as she said to her majordomo, 'Isa, leave us alone until I send for you.
There is more than enough work for you and the others. Tend to that while I discover why this slave has come.'
'As you speak it is done, great lady,' said Isa, making his reverence and withdrawing quickly.
'Very well; tell me.' Eugenia was following Simones down the hallway, her patience already wearing thin.
'That is my intention,' said Simones as he entered the smaller reception room and closed the door behind Eugenia so that they were alone. 'You have not called at the house of my master of late.'
'Your mistress is ill,' said Eugenia bluntly.
'My mistress is no longer influential,' Simones corrected her. 'If she had kept her position, you would not have let her illness keep you away.'
'Of all the brazen—' Eugenia began indignantly.
'Great lady, if you insist on these performances we will accomplish little.' Simones had folded his arms over his wide, muscular chest and he waited while she turned startled eyes on him and fell silent. 'You have not come to see Antonina, and she finds this troubling.'
'I'm sorry to hear that, but she understands my predicament. She would tell you that herself.' Eugenia smiled beguilingly. 'If that is what you were sent to tell me, I'm sorry to tell you that Antonina and I have—'
Simones moved a few steps closer to Eugenia. 'I think it would be very wise of you to resume your visits.'
Eugenia laughed in disbelief. 'You think that, do you? You? A slave?'
'Yes. It would be sensible for you to write Antonina a letter, telling her that you have heard that she is not well and that you wish to spend some time with her in spite of the risk you run in terms of making the match you