ceiling for a brief time, resembling a schoolboy who was being quizzed. “It’s M-e-h-e-n-o-p-o-l-i-s.”
Anatolius accompanied the young clerk to the door. It irked him to serve as a doorkeeper, but it was quicker than calling for Hypatia, who for once was spending the day there rather than in the hospice. He wondered if she was still at work in the garden.
How could a Lord Chamberlain employ only two servants? There were clerks at the palace who employed more.
As he saw Batzas out, a small brown bird flew into the atrium. They were always getting into his own house too, probably because they nested under the peristyle. He’d even seen them come straight down through the compluvium to bathe in the atrium’s impluvium.
He didn’t want the avian intruder to get upstairs, where there would be no escape and its panic would foul the floors. It was already perched halfway up the stairway, so Anatolius trotted forward, waving his hands. The bird took flight in a small explosion of pinfeathers, but fortunately fled into the garden.
Anatolius followed. Looking up, he saw the bird dwindle and vanish into the deep blue rectangle of sky framed by the roof of the peristyle.
Hypatia was working in one of the herb beds. Her hands were black with dirt and her tawny face, sheened with perspiration, glittered like polished marble.
At his greeting, she brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, carefully using the back of her hand. Nevertheless, the gesture left a streak of grime. “I’m almost finished here, sir, and as soon as I get cleaned up I’ll see what I can find for the evening meal.”
“Don’t worry. You’re overworked, Hypatia. What have you been pruning?”
“It’s fennel and dill, sir. The fennel’s got into the dill and if it’s left there it will weaken the stock. Dill needs the light in the center of the garden, so I’ve been digging up the fennel plants to move them further away.”
“That sounds like an excellent solution.” He was trying to think of something else to say when she gathered her tools and went into the house.
Anatolius strolled around the garden for a time and then returned upstairs.
He decided to put away the will he’d been working on and go to see Thomas again.
When he entered the study he saw someone bent over the desk, studying the documents scattered there.
The figure straightened and turned, revealing a scarred ruin of a face whose skin resembled that of a fowl left on the spit too long.
“Hektor!”
“What are you doing, Anatolius, creeping around the Lord Chamberlain’s former residence? You startled me!”
“I’m staying here in his absence.”
“Indeed? And so it’s true this is your new line of business?” Hektor plucked a document up by a corner as if it were something distasteful. It was the will.
Hektor let it drop. “You’ve gone from being Justinian’s secretary to sweating in the employ of bakers. Such a pity.”
The former court page was dressed in spotless white garments decorated with embroidered squares depicting Christ on the cross and the risen Christ.
Unfortunately there was no finery in the empire that would draw attention away from the disfigured face.
“You have no right to be here, Hektor,” Anatolius snapped.
“I expected the house to be abandoned after the Lord Chamberlain’s enforced departure, and the carelessly unlocked house door gave me no reason to think otherwise.”
“It’s still occupied, as you see.”
“You’re not doing a very good job, are you? What if I were a common criminal?”
“Instead of an uncommon one? Well, if you haven’t come to scavenge whatever you can steal like some carrion-eater then why are you here?”
“I intend to take possession immediately.” Hektor glanced around the room. His gaze lingered on the wall mosaic. “It’s a most desirable property and could be furnished attractively. The Lord Chamberlain’s notion of comfort is not mine.”
Anatolius observed that John
Anatolius accompanied the young clerk to the door. It irked him to serve as a doorkeeper, but it was quicker than calling for Hypatia, who for once was spending the day there rather than in the hospice. He wondered if she was still at work in the garden.
How could a Lord Chamberlain employ only two servants? There were clerks at the palace who employed more.
As he saw Batzas out, a small brown bird flew into the atrium. They were always getting into his own house too, probably because they nested under the peristyle. He’d even seen them come straight down through the compluvium to bathe in the atrium’s impluvium.
He didn’t want the avian intruder to get upstairs, where there would be no escape and its panic would foul the floors. It was already perched halfway up the stairway, so Anatolius trotted forward, waving his hands. The bird took flight in a small explosion of pinfeathers, but fortunately fled into the garden.
Anatolius followed. Looking up, he saw the bird dwindle and vanish into the deep blue rectangle of sky framed by the roof of the peristyle.
Hypatia was working in one of the herb beds. Her hands were black with dirt and her tawny face, sheened with perspiration, glittered like polished marble.
At his greeting, she brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, carefully using the back of her hand. Nevertheless, the gesture left a streak of grime. “I’m almost finished here, sir, and as soon as I get cleaned up I’ll see what I can find for the evening meal.”
“Don’t worry. You’re overworked, Hypatia. What have you been pruning?”
“It’s fennel and dill, sir. The fennel’s got into the dill and if it’s left there it will weaken the stock. Dill needs the light in the center of the garden, so I’ve been digging up the fennel plants to move them further away.”
“That sounds like an excellent solution.” He was trying to think of something else to say when she gathered her tools and went into the house.
Anatolius strolled around the garden for a time and then returned upstairs.
He decided to put away the will he’d been working on and go to see Thomas again.
When he entered the study he saw someone bent over the desk, studying the documents scattered there.
The figure straightened and turned, revealing a scarred ruin of a face whose skin resembled that of a fowl left on the spit too long.
“Hektor!”
“What are you doing, Anatolius, creeping around the Lord Chamberlain’s former residence? You startled me!”
“I’m staying here in his absence.”
“Indeed? And so it’s true this is your new line of business?” Hektor plucked a document up by a corner as if it were something distasteful. It was the will.
Hektor let it drop. “You’ve gone from being Justinian’s secretary to sweating in the employ of bakers. Such a pity.”
The former court page was dressed in spotless white garments decorated with embroidered squares depicting Christ on the cross and the risen Christ.
Unfortunately there was no finery in the empire that would draw attention away from the disfigured face.
“You have no right to be here, Hektor,” Anatolius snapped.
“I expected the house to be abandoned after the Lord Chamberlain’s enforced departure, and the carelessly unlocked house door gave me no reason to think otherwise.”
“It’s still occupied, as you see.”
“You’re not doing a very good job, are you? What if I were a common criminal?”
“Instead of an uncommon one? Well, if you haven’t come to scavenge whatever you can steal like some carrion-eater then why are you here?”
“I intend to take possession immediately.” Hektor glanced around the room. His gaze lingered on the wall mosaic. “It’s a most desirable property and could be furnished attractively. The Lord Chamberlain’s notion of comfort is not mine.”
Anatolius observed that John
Similar Books
