Medicus

Ruso explained about Tilla.

'I assure you, sir, my staff take great care. We very rarely buy in the street and only then with full documentation and references.' He indicated the stock with a sweep of his arm. 'All purchases come with a money-back guarantee for a full six months. We certainly wouldn't take on anything with an obvious injury.'

Ruso nodded. 'And is this everyone? Or do you have a special collection?'

The man smiled, revealing a wide gap between his two front teeth.

'Ah, sir, I'm afraid they are for inspection by appointment only. But all our present collection have been with us for at least ten days.'

'Nevertheless-'

The man's expression hardened. He summoned a clerk and ordered him to show Ruso the list of the private collection. There were a couple of Greek tutors, a geometry teacher, a painter, a family physician (Ruso would have liked to meet that one), three 'beautiful young boys' whose talents were not listed, and a set of fourteen-year-old twin girls, described as 'very beautiful, black hair, green eyes, good figures, soft-spoken, and eager to please.'

'How much are the girls?' he inquired, wondering what prices were like here.

'More than you can afford,' said the clerk-evidently a sharp judge of character.

Nothing here seemed likely to lead to Tilla. He was about to leave when a woman's voice said, 'Good afternoon, Doctor!' and he turned to find Rutilius's wife smiling at him.

'We heard about your housekeeper,' put in Rutilia the Younger. 'Have you come to buy another one?'

'Such a shame,' sympathized her mother. 'It's so difficult to find good staff.'

The daughter said, 'I hope the madman hasn't got her. Have you looked in the river?'

'Really, dear!' chided the mother. She was apologizing for her daughter's tactlessness when Ruso heard a distinct cry of 'Doctor!' from somewhere across the marquee. 'I'm sorry,' he interrupted, relieved. 'I have to go. Someone's calling me.'

'Doctor!'

The boy was perhaps eight or nine years old. He had ginger-colored hair and his face was blotched with pink, as if he had been crying. He was dressed in a plain brown tunic. Like all the other slaves, he was barefoot. The iron cuff looked as though it could snap his thin white ankle. He was chained to a massive bearded native on one side and an elderly man with a bent back on the other. Ruso stared at him, trying to remember where he had seen him before.

The boy sniffed, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and said, 'It's me, Doctor. Lucco.'

Ruso frowned. 'Lucco? From Merula's?'

The boy nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

'What are you doing here?'

The boy's eyes glistened with tears. 'I'm being sold, sir.' He swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. 'I'm a good worker, sir. And I'm quick to learn. Really I am.'

Ruso gazed at the skinny form with a mounting sense of dismay, knowing he could not say what the boy was hoping to hear. What could a man with no money possibly say or do to reassure a child who was chained like an animal, waiting to be auctioned to the highest bidder? He closed his eyes and fought the urge to utter a curse on the spirit of his weak-willed father, on his spendthrift stepmother, on his half sisters, who combined the worst qualities of both. He wanted to lay a hand on Lucco's shoulder and assure him that all would be well. Only it probably wouldn't.

At least he could save the boy from being poked and peered at for a few minutes. He said, 'Why are you being sold, Lucco?'

The boy eyed him for a minute, as if he was wondering what to answer. Ruso groaned inwardly as he realized his mistake. The child thought he was being interviewed for a job. 'Lucco,' he explained gently, crouching down to speak to him face-to-face, 'I can't buy you. I'm sorry. I may look rich to you, but the truth is, I'm not.'

The boy sniffed again. 'Yes, sir.'

The old man burst into a fit of coughing. In his efforts to stifle the cough he staggered backward, dragging the chain and jerking Lucco's ankle sideways. The boy winced and bent to rub his leg. The big native turned and growled something at the old man, who ignored him.

'Lucco,' said Ruso, wishing he did not have to ask this, 'you remember my slave, Tilla?'

'She used to feed her dinner to the birds.'

'Well, now she's missing. I'm afraid that whoever hurt Saufeia might hurt her. If you know anything at all about what happened to Saufeia, or to Asellina, you must tell me. Nobody's going to punish you for talking now.'

The boy shook his head. 'I don't know nothing about Saufeia, sir. Everybody thought Asellina had gone to live somewhere nicer. All the girls cried when they found her.'

'I see.'

'I like it at Merula's,' said the boy. 'I don't want to go nowhere else.'

'You're a bright boy, Lucco,' said Ruso. 'You'll do well wherever you go.'

The boy replied politely, 'Yes, sir.'

Ruso stood up straight, glancing around him and wondering if it would be kinder to get out of the way and let potential buyers assess the boy's worth. The more the better. A slave for whom there were several bidders would fetch a higher price and logic dictated that a valuable asset would be well treated. The trouble was, logic rarely dictated what people did in the privacy of their own homes.

'Sir?'

He turned.

'Sir, please could you give my mother a message?'

'Your mother?'

'Please could you tell her Bassus told Merula about the oysters?'

Ruso frowned. 'Bassus told Merula about the…?'

'The oysters, sir. So Merula told him to take me to the trader.' An energetic sniff was followed by, 'Bassus said he was going to find a nice family for me, but now he's gone and told Merula about the oysters. My mother doesn't know.'

Ruso was now thoroughly confused. 'You mother doesn't know about the oysters?'

'She doesn't know I'm here.' The boy glanced over at the clerks behind the desks. 'Do you think they'll let me go and say good-bye?'

Ruso doubted it very much. 'You are being sold because of oysters?'

The boy nodded. 'I didn't mean to do it, sir. I mean, I didn't mean…' His voice tailed into silence.

Ruso scratched his ear. This story was beginning to sound familiar. He lowered his voice so they could not be overheard. 'Wasn't Merula's last cook sold because of serving bad oysters?'

Lucco nodded, dumb.

'And now Merula's found out you were involved?'

Something approaching panic entered the boy's eyes. 'Please, sir!' he muttered, barely audible above the hum of conversation in the marquee. 'I won't ever do it again!'

'I'm not going to tell anyone, Lucco.' If no one had seen to it that the damnation of 'attempted poisoner' was written on the child's label, he was certainly not going to do it himself.

'I didn't mean it, sir,' whispered Lucco. 'Somebody said the officer from the hospital was there. I thought they meant the nasty one.'

Ruso was having difficulty following him again. 'Tell me about these oysters,' he suggested.

'Cook had them on the side to throw away.'

'And you sent them out to a customer?'

He nodded. 'It was just a bit of a joke, sir.'

A bit of a joke that could have ended in a charge of attempted murder and a gruesome execution for its perpetrator. As it was, Valens had suffered acute food poisoning and Ruso had been obliged to do the work of three men and had ended up so far out of his senses that he had bought a girl on a building site.

He put his hand back on the boy's shoulder. 'I'll go and see your mother right away. Where do I find her?'

'She'll be working, sir.'