An Echo in the Darkness(110)

Frowning, she took another bite of partridge. She was troubled. She hadn’t objected to Orestes’ gift because she had known of a need for the money at the time. Now, cut off by the overwhelming number of patrons and amount of work, she had had little time to find those in need—and a surfeit of gold coins was piling up in her money box.

Alexander saw she was distressed. He shouldn’t have told her about Clementia. Not until she finished eating. He knew the expensive gifts and pouches of money bothered her, and he knew why. He thought her reasons foolish. “Their gratitude belongs to God,” she often said, but he saw nothing wrong in her receiving the bounty.

A week ago, she had entered the antechamber, and a man had bowed down to her. Alexander had never seen her angry before. “Get up!” she had cried out, and the man had jumped to his feet in fright.

“Rapha,” he had said gently, trying to intercede, but she had turned on him as well.

“Am I a god that he should bow down to me?”

She had limped toward the man, who drew back from her, his face pale with fear. She had held out her arm. “Touch me,” she said. The man had raised his hand, but it had been clear he didn’t dare to do what she told him. She took his hand firmly and placed it on her arm, putting her own hand over his. “Flesh and blood. Never, never bow down to me again. Do you understand?” The man had nodded, but as she turned away, Alexander saw the look on his face.

Alexander had seen the same look in others’ eyes as well. The man revered her.

“Think of the money as a fee,” he said now, trying to calm her concerns.

“You know very well Clementia already paid the fee you named. Let her take her offering to God.”

“You’re making too much of this,” he said, only to be interrupted as the servant entered again. “What now?”

“The man said he will wait, my lord.”

Alexander’s mouth tightened. Rain was pounding on the roof tiles. “So be it,” he said, determined to enjoy his meal.

“Who will wait?” Hadassah said.

“Someone who wants to speak to me.”

“It’s raining.”

“I told him to come back tomorrow. If he insists on waiting, he can get wet!”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know.” He tossed a leg bone onto the platter in annoyance.

“Is he ill?” she said to the servant.

“No, my lady. He looks very healthy.”

“Does he seem upset?”

“No, my lady. He’s very calm. When I told him he would have to wait until morning, he thanked me and sat down by the wall.”

Annoyed, Alexander split his partridge in half. Why couldn’t people understand that physicians needed rest just like any other human being? He could feel Hadassah looking at him in silent appeal. “Obviously, it’s not urgent,” he muttered.

She still looked at him.

“It’s a warm rain, Rapha.”

Amazing how silence could speak volumes.

“Very well!” he said, resigned. He gave a slight wave to the servant. “Invite the wretch in and let him dry off in the antechamber.”

“Yes, my lord. Will you speak with him tonight?”

“No. I’m too tired.” He saw Hadassah start to rise. “Don’t even think about it!” he said in a tone that eliminated argument.

Rashid moved closer to her couch. Hadassah glanced up at him and then looked back at Alexander with a rueful smile.

“You’re not going to do anything more today except eat that bird and go to the baths.”

She saw he meant it and reclined again.

“The man can wait,” Alexander said to her and then looked at his servant again. “If the brazier is still lit, add fuel. And give him a dry tunic.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He looked at Hadassah. “Satisfied?”

She smiled at him. “He might be hungry.” She broke her partridge in half and held one part up toward the servant. “And he’ll need a bedroll since he must wait through the night.”

Alexander gave a nod. “Let it be done as she says.”

Prometheus was surprised when the servant opened the door to him and said he could come inside and wait. A fire had been prepared, and he was given a towel and dry tunic. The servant left and then came back a short while later with a tray on which was half a roasted partridge, bread, and a pitcher of fine wine. A big, dark-skinned man gave him a bedroll. “The physician will see you in the morning,” he said. “You may sleep here.”

Giving thanks to God, Prometheus marveled at the delicious meal. Warmed by the fire in the brazier and the good wine, he stretched out on the bedroll. He slept comfortably for the night.