Tabula Rasa(36)

“It seems you learned nothing from the falling of the rocks.”

Ruso did not reply. He was not going to get into a debate about whose gods were the more powerful.

“The man you have lost is not here, and we know nothing about him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you had asked, we would have told you. We would also have asked our neighbors.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I had hoped,” the old man continued, “that we could work together.”

“I would have liked that,” said Ruso truthfully.

“It is a pity you did not trust us.”

On the far side of the hearth, where orange glowed through ash, the sky-blue eyes were gazing into his own. This time it was harder to fight the urge to look away. Two nights ago Ruso had been offered the kind of tentative friendship that might have helped in the search for Candidus. But the moment there was a dispute, he had forgotten all about Senecio’s We must find ways of working together and lapsed into the old suspicions. He had, in short, acted like a fool.

Searching for some sort of concession if he could not offer apology, he said, “Sir, if anything was broken or stolen here by the soldiers, I will personally make compensation.” He could probably get a loan against his pay to cover what they had lost. There was no point in pretending he would go to the Legion. The army always assumed compensation claims were exaggerated—which they probably were, since the victims expected to be shortchanged—so that even if money was paid, it was rare for both sides to be satisfied.

“Will you be compensating my neighbors?”

“I can’t do it for everyone.”

“Then you will do it for no one.”

He was not going to insult the man by trying to change his mind. “I respect your decision, sir.”

Senecio inclined his head.

Ruso bowed. “Sir, my wife is very embarrassed. She had nothing to do with what happened.”

“She is your wife. She has made her choice. Do you have anything else to say?”

“No, sir.”

“We will see that you are safe as far as the road. Do not come back.”





Chapter 18

Somebody had gathered up the mess of records and writing materials and crammed most of them back into the cupboard. The surplus was piled into a wooden crate that had been shoved under the desk so there was no room for anyone’s knees underneath. This hardly mattered, since there was still no sign of the man whose job it was to sit there.

Ruso had removed Candidus’s kit to his own lodgings, but the chaos, like a fungus, now seemed to have spread to the stores. Gallus was standing in front of the shelves, pulling down a succession of boxes and rooting through them in search of linen suture thread. He interrupted the hunt to draw Ruso’s attention to an unopened message addressed candidus, clerk.

It was from Supplies. They could not understand why the hospital had sent urgent requests for buckets and blankets and bedstead repairs when the repairs were already in hand, six buckets had been delivered only last week, and all orders for woven materials had to be submitted a month in advance of the delivery date, by which time the Legion would be back in winter quarters at Deva. The orders had therefore been cancelled.

Ruso dropped the missive into the crate. “The idiots over in Supplies have thrown out all our orders. They say we’ve got buckets already.”

Gallus glanced up from the latest box. “Somebody did find some buckets at the gatehouse this morning, sir. But there were only two left by the time he tracked them down.”

“And has anyone come to start on the repairs?”

“Not yet, sir.”

Ruso sighed. “Tell me some good news.”

“The legate’s physician was here to see Prefect Pertinax earlier. He seemed quite satisfied.”

“Good,” said Ruso, not sorry he had missed the legate’s physician, a haughty Greek with a reputation for seeing his colleagues as competitors.

“He said no bathing until the stitches are out, only gentle massage, and don’t let him get up.”

“I’ll cancel the dancing lessons, then. Did you tell him we’ve no bath suite and the masseur only comes twice a week if we’re lucky?”

Gallus’s baby face looked even younger when he smiled. “No, sir. There were some instructions about diet that I’ve written down for you—ah!” He retrieved a spool of thread. “And Doctor Valens is here, sir. And, er . . .” He hesitated, passing the spool from one hand to the other. “Sir, I’ve been wondering whether I should mention something. It’s about the clerk. I hope I’m not wasting your time.”

Ruso waited.

“I wasn’t trying to listen, sir.”