Medicus

the bowl. Tilla looked up at him in surprise just as the back door opened, sending in a gust of welcome cool air, and with it Merula's voice. 'Doctor! Just the man we need!'

'Give me something, Doctor.'

The hand that grabbed at Ruso's was cold.

Ruso, who had never expected to see its owner again, disentangled himself from the feeble grasp. The two men stood eyeing each other in the middle of Merula's back yard. The sweaty strands of hair that were usually combed flat across Claudius Innocens's head were dangling around his nose. His skin had a greenish tinge, which Ruso found both professionally interesting and, on a personal level, deeply satisfying. The silence was interrupted by Innocens's need to bend over the bucket again.

Ruso commended Merula for keeping the patient away from anyone else. It could be contagious.

Merula turned. 'Phryne!'

A blond girl who was barely more than a child appeared from the open doorway of an outhouse and sidled into the yard. A nervous smile flitted across her face. One hand instinctively rose to cover crooked teeth.

'Get a bed made up in there.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

'Well, what are you waiting for?'

'Please, Mistress, I don't know where-'

'Then ask someone!'

The girl fled.

Merula turned back to the merchant. 'I hope she isn't going to be another disappointment, Innocens.'

'She's just a little nervous, madam,' he assured her. 'She'll settle down-ah!' He bent over, clutching at his stomach.

Merula asked Ruso what he thought the problem was, adding, 'He hasn't eaten here,' before he could speculate.

Ruso scratched his ear. 'It's hard to say,' he said. 'It could be anything, really.' He turned to the patient, who was now slumped against the wall. 'It might just pass by itself. You really want me to prescribe you something?'

'Anything, Doctor, sir. I'm in your hands.' Innocens's head drooped, swayed toward Merula, and lifted again. 'Excellent doctor. Business acquaintance of mine.'

'He sold me a half-dead slave,' explained Ruso.

Innocens made an attempt to plaster the strands of hair back in place.

'And you got a bargain, sir. She's turned into a fine-looking girl.'

'No thanks to you.' Ruso had a sudden thought. 'Innocens, do you come to Deva regularly?'

'I pass through, sir. From time to time.'

'Were you here in late spring?'

'Ah-possibly, sir. Possibly.'

Ruso wished he had bothered to find out the specific date of the fire. 'How long had you been here before you sold me that slave?'

'Oh, dear…' The strands of hair fell down again and dangled while their owner struggled to form an answer. Finally he said, 'About two or three days, I suppose, sir. I really don't feel very-'

'Did you ever know a girl called Saufeia?'

Merula turned to stare at Ruso.

'Me, sir? Saufeia? I don't think so, sir. But these girls' names change like the wind, sir. If you're after something special I could-'

What Claudius Innocens could do was never made clear: He was too busy lunging for the bucket.

Ruso had to hurry back to his hastily cleaned but still smelly lodgings to fetch one of the ingredients for Innocens's medicine. By the time the ailing man had swallowed it, a bowl of pale damp beans was resting on the table where Tilla had sat. Ruso knocked on her door without success and then, hearing her weeping, hurried downstairs to see if there was a spare key. That was when he learned that Tilla was no longer occupying the shabby little upstairs room. Merula had moved her in to sleep with the other girls.

'That isn't what we agreed.'

'I'll give you a discount,' conceded Merula, placing a jug of wine and four cups onto a tray. 'We needed the room.' She glanced around the bar area and shouted, 'Daphne? Table four!'

'Whoever's in there now doesn't sound very happy.'

Merula handed the tray across the bar to Daphne, who had changed from her kitchen clothes and had tied a green ribbon in her hair. 'I don't buy girls to make them happy,' said Merula. 'I buy them to work. Yours is in with the others. Through the kitchen and turn left.'

On a lone chair festooned with discarded clothes sat Chloe, now huddled in a brown blanket, her feet soaking in a bowl of water. Tilla, who had been lying on one of the lower bunks, swung her legs off the bed and stood up. Chloe stayed where she was.

Ruso had never considered where bar staff might live when they were off duty, but if he had, he would have expected something better than this. The room was dingy and cramped. What little floor was visible between the three sets of bunk beds was presumably mud beneath the covering of dried bracken. The walls had once been cream but were badly stained with soot. Limp feminine laundry had been draped over a length of twine tied between the bunks. The girls had made attempts to brighten things up: Two cheerful red bows adorned the latches of the shutters and a familiar-looking cup filled with yellow flowers sat on the one shelf. Around the flowers lay a scattering that reminded him of Claudia: combs, mirrors, hairpins, jars of makeup.

He had the feeling of being too big for the room; as if any misjudged movement would knock over something precious and break it.

The girls, as was proper, were waiting for him to speak first. Trying not to think about Chloe's tongue exploring his ear, he cleared his throat and said, 'Good evening.'

Tilla bowed her head and murmured with a pleasing-and surprising-display of respect, 'My Lord.'

Chloe reached for a towel. She looked tired. The black around her eyes was smudged. It was hard to imagine her as the seductress he had seen writhing in the bar.

Ruso coughed again. 'I hear there was a funeral today.'

Chloe lifted one foot out of the water. 'Some of us are starting to wonder who's next.'

'I am sorry for the loss of your colleague.'

'That's more than the management were. And I wouldn't call it much of a funeral. If it hadn't been for Decimus I bet they'd have dumped her in a ditch.'

Not sure how to reply, Ruso turned to his slave. 'Show me where you are sleeping now.'

Tilla indicated a rolled-up mattress stashed between two bunks. As Ruso checked to make sure it was the clean one, she said, 'A new girl is here.'

'Asellina's been replaced,' put in Chloe. 'They were starting to run out of staff.'

'The new girl is locked in the room,' Tilla continued.

It was not an unreasonable precaution. 'You should stay away from her for a day or two,' suggested Ruso. 'If she came here with Innocens she may have the same illness.'

'I hope he is very ill and then he dies,' said Tilla.

Ruso, who could not agree with this sentiment aloud even though he might share it, instructed her to sit down. He knelt awkwardly in front of her to check the alignment of the splints. Chloe did not offer him the chair.

As he felt along the length of the lower splint, he said, 'I gather Innocens did not eat here?'

'If that's what Merula said,' put in Chloe before Tilla could answer, 'then he didn't.'

Ruso glanced at her. 'I'm not trying to accuse anyone. Nothing you say will leave this room, but it will help me do my job.'

He saw the two girls look at each other. Chloe shrugged, tossed the towel aside, and reached for her sandals.

'He takes from the kitchen,' explained Tilla. 'When the mistress is not there.'

'What did he take?'

'Wine, apple pie, and Mariamne,' said Chloe.