But not nearly as improper as a lady addressing a slave in such a manner, John thought.
At the seawall they looked down over the docks where ships sat at anchor, each vessel attached to an inverted twin beneath it.
“Do you ever long to sail away and never return to Constantinople?” Anna suddenly asked. “If you could, I mean. The city must hold some very bad memories for you.”
“Other places hold worse.” John feared this was a prelude to another inappropriate conversation.
Instead, Anna asked, “Can chickens fly?”
John could do nothing but look at her in silence.
“The woman back there said the chickens might fly into our cooking pot, but I can’t imagine a chicken would be much of a flier from what I’ve seen of their wings. That’s after the cook has finished preparing them, I’ll admit.”
“They can fly a few wing-flaps if necessary. In order to escape a predator, for example.”
“So they take to the air only from necessity?” Anna’s tone was thoughtful. “Well, they are merely chickens, after all. And speaking of birds, I’ve just realized we’re not far from the home of my friend Avis. He’s the inventor I may have mentioned now and then. We’ll go and visit him now. The wings he’s working on strike me as vastly superior to any chicken’s wings.”
Shouting broke out on the docks below.
Intrigued, Anna leaned alarmingly out over the wall and stared down. “It’s some of the Gourd’s men. They’re dragging someone by his legs along the dock.” She was indignant. “Poor thing, I wonder what he did to incur their wrath? Nothing at all probably.”
John stared down at the growing knot of dock workers who had abandoned their labors to stand around and gape at the scene.
Two men were hauling the unfortunate man over the back of a waiting mule. He hung limply, hands and feet brushing the ground. As the Prefect’s men urged the animal toward the nearest stairway, it passed directly below John and Anna and John got a clear view of their captive.
It was Viator. At least he would not have to face the Gourd’s wrath. He was dead.
***
Lady Anna arrived home to find Trenico waiting in the atrium.
“Let me help you with your cloak, Anna,” he said.
She shrugged away his outstretched hand. Whenever Trenico was near those perfectly manicured hands hovered around her constantly, returning no matter how many times she brushed them off, as insistently annoying as a pair of flies.
“It’s all right, Trenico, thank you.”
“I can tell you’ve been to a perfumer’s. The scents cling to your hair. The perfumes I gave you don’t please?” He displayed a theatrical frown.
“I was choosing a gift for a friend.” She remained in the atrium, hoping Trenico would leave and go about his business yet knowing he would not since she was his real business. “You’re here to see father?”
“And you. Yes, I just arrived. So, who is this friend of yours? A mutual acquaintance? What is the occasion?”
“You don’t know her, Trenico. She’s getting married soon. That’s something I will never do, as I was just telling John. He’s just gone back to the palace now I am safely home.”
“Your tutor? I would hope you had more of an escort than that, Anna, considering what almost happened to your father the other day.”
“To hear the way people go on about that, you would think it was father who died rather than poor Dorotheus,” Anna snapped.
“I just don’t like to think of you out on those dangerous streets with only a eunuch for protection. Your father told me he had forbidden you to go out unless you had at least three servants to guard you. I would have been happy to do so too if you wished.” A hand alit for an instant on her arm then departed. “It’s fortunate you didn’t run into difficulties.”
“We only saw a dead man.”
“You’re jesting?” He looked at her, seeking confirmation.
“No, Trenico. John and I observed a corpse being carried off the docks by the Gourd’s men.”
“The docks? You were at the docks? A lady, and without a proper bodyguard?” Trenico looked shocked.
“In fact, we observed from the seawall so we were not actually on the docks. As to the other matter, John is quite capable of protecting me and I feel perfectly safe with him, Trenico.”
“Anna, I must disagree. Your attitude toward this slave is quite improper. He’s become your pet, I realize that, but still…I’ll buy you a dove. That would be much more suitable as a companion. Or if you want-”
Trenico broke off. Opimius had emerged from his office.
“Trenico,” Opimius said. “There you are. I thought you were late for our discussion. I see you’ve just been detained by my daughter.”
His fond smile at them made Anna feel resentful.
“Why don’t you both join me in my office?” Opimius suggested. “I’ll have some refreshments brought, something warming.” He beamed.
Anna began to unclasp her cloak. “No, thank you, father. I’m sure you have business to transact.” She fixed Trenico in her gaze. “Besides, I would prefer other company right now.”
Chapter Twenty
John appeared at Senator Opimius’ house next morning, prepared to continue with Lady Anna’s instruction. She surprised him by hurrying out of the servants’ entrance before he could rap on the door.
“John. There’s someone I want you to meet. We’ll go immediately.” She was shrouded in a heavy cloak.
“At this early hour, Lady Anna?”
“Who knows when we’ll have another chance? Now, you recall the man I mentioned yesterday, Avis? The inventor? I had intended for us to visit him then, but of course we were distracted by that poor, dead man on the docks. Avis is the person we’re going to see.”
When John queried her about the reason for the unexpected excursion, Anna grew mysterious. He finally had to remind himself that it was not a slave’s place to question orders given by his mistress, however flighty her apparent whim.
Anna did however expound on Avis’ eccentric living arrangements as she led the way north along a wide thoroughfare that opened into a plaza near the Prosphorion harbor. It was the time of morning when the stark cries of circling seabirds had not yet been overcome by the rush and roar of humanity.
A path, so narrow that it could not be called an alley, ran between two warehouses facing the plaza. It led to the dwelling of Avis.
The brick sides of the four-story, octagonal tower were blank for the first three levels. A row of enormous windows circled the final floor. When lamps were lit inside at night the conical-roofed structure resembled a lighthouse. Constantinople-born mariners, noting a more earthy resemblance, had given the tower an obscene nickname which Lady Anna thought best not to mention to her companion.
She repeated, instead, its less scurrilous name. “They call this Avis’ lantern,” she smiled. “It’s said that local sailors do not consider themselves truly home unless they can see its light from their ships.”
John observed that its owner must have an inexhaustible supply of lamp oil.
“I don’t know about that, but Avis is a night bird. He tends to work until dawn, so his lamps are lit almost as dependably as those of a real lighthouse.”
“Then surely he won’t be up this early?”
Lady Anna smiled. “I am hoping we’ll catch him before he retires for the day.”
From the base of the tower a staircase snaked up and around its sides to a platform perched in front of a door. The sound of birds singing and whistling reached their ears.
“A tower seems a strange place to keep an aviary,” John observed as they climbed the creaking, splintered, wooden stairs. An updraft of wind from the docks below the seawall carried his words away into the leaden sky.