“As you found it necessary to extract an oath, you know more than you’re telling me,” Marcus said.
“I know he’s blood minded and irrational! But that might be due to the fact that his Roman owner left him for dead on the steps of the Asklepion.” Alexander gave a brittle laugh. “It was my ill fate that Rapha chose him from all the rest to take back to the booth where I started my medical practice. We treated him there.” He gave Rashid a dark look. “Unfortunately, he lived.”
“Not all Romans are contemptible,” Marcus retorted.
“Have you ever owned an Arab?” Alexander asked to confuse the matter.
“I’ve never in my life left a slave to die on the temple steps, nor would I. And to answer your question, no, I have never owned an Arab slave.” He gave Rashid a scornful look. “Nor do I ever intend to have one.”
Rashid grinned coldly.
“I told you it was a case of mistaken identity,” Alexander said to Rashid, hoping the fool would have the good sense to keep up the ruse. “Perhaps now, you’ll believe me.”
“Should I accept the word of a Roman?” Rashid said.
Marcus stepped closer. “What was the name of this owner of yours?”
“Rashid is a freeman now,” Alexander said when it became all too clear Rashid had no intention of gracing Marcus with a response to anything he said.
“By whose authority?” Marcus demanded, not turning his back on Rashid. “Yours, Democedes?”
“By all that is decent and just! Should I save a man and give him back to the ones who very nearly caused his death?”
Marcus was surprised at Democedes’ anger. It seemed far too intense, far too passionate. What reason had he for such depth of emotion regarding Romans and their slaves? He studied him, considering his words. “Do you make a habit of rescuing those who were discarded in such a despicable manner?”
Alexander was grateful the subject had moved away from Hadassah, while disturbed that he must now defend his medical practices.
“I needed patients on whom to practice my skills.”
“Practice?” Marcus said with distaste.
“Like most physicians, I despise the practice of vivisection,” Alexander said angrily. “This seemed my only other alternative for studying human anatomy. If one loses an abandoned slave, no one cares. When I did this, I chose carefully, treating only those I thought I could save. Either that, or challenging cases that gave me opportunity to try to affect a cure.”
“How many of these experiments of yours died?”
A muscle jerked in Alexander’s cheek. “Too many,” he said, “but fewer than would have if I hadn’t interceded. Perhaps you’re like so many others who don’t know what happens beyond your own private little kingdom. Anyone who’s observed the practices of the temple can tell you the priests only take in those whose chances of survival are good. They nurse slaves back to health in order to sell them and pocket the money. The rest of the poor souls left on the steps are abandoned by everyone. I’ve seen a few who suffered with particularly repulsive diseases dispatched by the priests before dawn. That way their bodies can be removed before the crowds come with votive offerings.” His mouth curved cynically. “After all, it wouldn’t be good for business to have worshipers see so many dying on the steps of a temple honoring a god of good health and healing, would it?”
“Is this how you found Rapha?”
Alexander froze at the question. He thought quickly and saw a way to protect her identity while still telling the truth. “She was the first,” he admitted. “I’ve never since treated anyone so grievously injured. It was by the grace of God she lived at all, Valerian, not by my skills.”
“What made you choose her then?”
“She would say it was God. Perhaps it was. I just knew when I saw her that I had to do everything I could to keep her alive. It wasn’t easy. She suffered months of pain, and she’ll bear the scars of what happened to her for the rest of her life. That’s why she’s veiled, Valerian. Whenever someone saw her face, they turned away.” His mouth curved sardonically. “It’s an unfortunate trait of mankind, isn’t it? Most people don’t see past surface scars to the beauty within.” He stared coldly into Marcus’ eyes. “And some just want to satisfy their morbid curiosity.”
Marcus’ eyes flashed. “You think that’s all there is to my being here, don’t you? That I want my curiosity satisfied?”
“Isn’t it? Whatever mystery you think there is, Valerian, it’s in your own mind. Rapha’s reasons for covering herself are obvious and well founded. Anyone with half an ounce of decency would respect her wishes. It might be good for you to think of her feelings, especially since it’s Rapha alone who stands between your sister and the hottest fires of hell!”