Medicus

woken last night? Would he have realized what was happening? He didn't know.

The man had opened his fist and was rolling the bead around in his palm with the tip of a finger. 'I bought this for her in Viroconium when I was on leave, sir. It was on a necklace. Just a cheap thing.'

'She must have valued it to wear it.'

'She told me not to waste a lot of money on presents. I was saving up. I was going to get her out of there. She promised me she'd wait.' Ruso said nothing.

'Why didn't she tell me she was going to run away?'

'Perhaps she went on the spur of the moment,' suggested Ruso.

'She didn't have time to send a message.'

The porter sighed. 'She was a good girl, my Asellina. I know what people said. But it wasn't her fault she had to work in that place. I was going to buy her out. We had plans.' The man looked up suddenly 'All that about the sailor. I knew it wasn't true. First they tried to blame me for stealing her, then they just made up that sailor to shut me up. What do you think made her run away, sir?'

'I don't suppose we'll ever know,' said Ruso, not voicing the thought that finding the girl's remains proved nothing: She could have been hiding while waiting for any number of sailors. Or soldiers. Or even a well-heeled local. He put his hand on the man's shoulder. 'I'm very sorry, Decimus.'

The man picked up the bead between his forefinger and thumb. 'Can I keep this, sir?'

'Of course.' Ruso coughed, and wondered how much smoke he had inhaled the night before. 'Tell me some more about her,' he suggested.' She sounds…' He paused, not sure how to phrase it. 'She sounds like a kindhearted sort of girl.'

'Wouldn't hurt a fly, sir. She never had no enemies, Asellina. Got on with everybody.' The man paused. 'Except… well, you know. But she never meant no harm.'

'There were people she didn't like?'

'Oh, no, sir. She liked everybody. Well, near enough. They have customers down at the bar that nobody likes. But they have to be nice to them, it's their job. The thing was, sir, she used to see the funny side of things. She used to make me laugh. But not everybody knows how to have a good laugh, do they, sir?'

'No,' agreed Ruso, relieved. Clearly Asellina had not been vindictive in life: Even if there were such things as ghosts, there was no reason to suppose that in death she would be any different.

Decimus wiped his nose on his fingers and got to his feet. 'She deserves a decent funeral, sir.'

'Now we know who she is, I'll get the civilian liaison to go and see Merula. Then you'll have to talk to her about funerals.'

Decimus nodded and squared his shoulders. 'I'll see to it. Are you all right yourself now, sir?'

'Fine, thank you.'

'I was sorry to hear about your troubles last night. And now they go and find my Asellina this morning. What do you make of that, sir?'

'Nothing,' said Ruso, to whom daylight had brought the conclusion that he must have left the candle burning. 'It's just a coincidence.' The puppy must have then knocked it over and rolled it across the floor, where the flame had caught a trailing edge of his blanket. 'One last thing, Decimus.'

'Sir?'

'If you're going to drown your sorrows, don't do it at Merula's. And don't go alone.'

The porter managed a weak smile. 'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.'

After Decimus had left, Ruso thought about the girl who had always seen the funny side of things, who had lain cold and unburied for all those months while the rest of Deva carried on its business around her. The second girl from Merula's bar whom he had met only in death. Now, surely, there would be a proper investigation. In the meantime, he had to go and see what was being done about making his lodgings fit to live in.

39

It was early evening by the time Ruso found time to check on his slave. He found men crowded around the bar, blocking the entrance. As he approached, he heard the twitter of flutes. Evidently the bad news about Asellina had not been allowed to disrupt business. Finding a place in the crowd, he was in time to see the object of everyone's interest display a length of shapely leg through a slit in a silky outfit that left just enough to be imagined. The dancer arched her back and slid one hand slowly up her thigh. Ruso felt the surge of a desire too long denied.

A voice said, 'Good, ain't she, our Chloe?'

He had not noticed Bassus moving over to stand next to him.

'Very,' agreed Ruso, hoping he had not been watching with his mouth open.

'I'll get her to give your girl some lessons.'

Chloe was swaying across the room toward them. Ruso, making an effort to concentrate, said, 'I don't want her working here.'

' 'Course not,' agreed Bassus as Chloe entwined one braceleted arm around Ruso's neck. 'But a bit of private dancing, that's an extra skill, see?'

Ruso felt the flicker of Chloe's tongue against the lobe of his ear.

Bassus was saying something about it all being money in his purse.

'Yes,' said Ruso thickly, his mind not on his purse at all.

Suddenly he was deserted: Chloe had moved on to work the tables. A legionary was grinning with embarrassment as she ran her hand down his chest. His companions jeered and whooped as the hand slid lower.

Ruso tightened his grip on his medical case. He was making his way to the stairs-ignoring complaints from customers whose view he was blocking-when Bassus's 'Not that way, Doc!' registered. He turned to find the man pointing him to the kitchen door.

Ruso retraced his steps to loud suggestions that he should make up his mind.

'She didn't have nothing to do up there,' explained Bassus. 'She's helping the cook out instead.'

'I said she wasn't to-'

The doorman's hand was heavy on his shoulder. 'Don't you worry, Doc, I'm protecting our little investment. She's well out of sight.' He winked. 'I told Merula we got to keep her as a surprise.'

Ruso wondered which was worse: having Bassus as an enemy or having him as a friend. 'And untouched,' he insisted.

'You leave it to me, Doc.' Bassus's words would have been more reassuring if he had not added, 'She'll be as untouched as the day she come in here.'

As Ruso entered the kitchen a cloud of smoke and steam that reminded him uncomfortably of last night billowed from the griddle. A stocky figure swung away with one arm raised to protect her eyes. Lucco swerved to avoid a collision. The dishes piled against his small chest swayed and rattled, but he managed to keep them balanced. Across the kitchen, Daphne set down her rolling pin beside an expanse of flattened pastry and paused to massage the small of her back with floury hands. Both she and Lucco looked as though they had been crying. The cook, who would not have known Asellina, seemed only to be squinting because of the smoke. When it cleared she turned back toward the spitting griddle with a look of determination and a spatula, while Lucco resumed his journey to the crockery shelves. No one seemed interested in Ruso's arrival, and the figure seated at the table with her fair hair in two long plaits did not look up.

Tilla had steadied the bowl on her lap by trapping it between her knees and the tabletop. In front of her on the scrubbed wooden surface was a heap of untouched bean pods: by her feet a bucket of hollow green halves. Ruso, feeling his tunic beginning to stick to him in the heat, watched unnoticed as she reached for a fresh pod. She pinched one end until it burst open, then widened the gap with her thumb, and finally twisted her wrist so the pod was upside down before maneuvering the thumb back down the inside of the pod to send the beans bouncing into the bowl. A couple shot over the rim. Tilla dropped the empty pod into the bucket and picked up another.

Ruso retrieved a bean that had rolled toward his feet. So, this was what a servant with one hand could do. He hoped the cook was not in a hurry for the vegetables. He stepped forward and dropped the escaped bean into