Reminding himself that Lucius had far worse difficulties to contend with, he brushed the crumbs off his tunic and crossed over into the shadow cast by Merula's bar. The shutters were half-open but there seemed to be no one around.
"They're out," called Bassus from somewhere in the gloom at the back of the bar. Everyone seemed to be up early this morning.
"I've come to see my patient." Ruso strode past the tables and started up the stairs.
"You won't find her up there, mate. Try the baths."
Ruso paused. Perhaps he had been too impulsive when he handed over the key. "I didn't say she could go out."
Bassus emerged from the kitchen door, polishing an apple on the front of his tunic. "You didn't say she couldn't."
"Did anybody go with her?"
The doorman took a bite out of the apple and stopped chewing long enough to say, "You don't want to worry about her, mate. We got the best-kept girls in town here." He paused to swallow. "Bathed three times a week, chaperoned everywhere they go… Anybody out there messes with our girls, they've got me and Stich to answer to."
"I see," said Ruso, politely refraining from observing that two of the best-kept girls in town had chosen to run away.
Bassus grinned. "If they want to mess with our girls, they got to come over here and show us the money first. Got to build up a retirement fund somehow, haven't I?"
"How's it going?"
The man shook his head. "Born too soon, mate." He slid a heavy knife out of the sheath at his belt and began to dig at a brown patch in the apple. "Born too soon. Me and Stich, we do twenty-five years in the Legion, spend another five years scratching our backsides in the reserves, and all we get is the discharge grant." He flicked the rotten section of the apple out into the street. "Now we got pimply kids been in the army a week, coming in here telling us how they're going to spend the emperor's bonus."
"That's very bad luck," agreed Ruso.
Bassus squinted at the remainder of the apple and, apparently satisfied, wiped the knife on his tunic and slid it back into the sheath. "Tell you what, though. You and me might be able to do a bit of business."
"We might?"
"That girl. You don't want to let her go to Merula. Feed her up a bit, she'd be worth something."
"The thought had crossed my mind."
"Let me know when you're thinking of cashing in." He took another bite out of the apple. "I'll put the word out for you."
"You know a good dealer?"
The man shook his head. "The dealers 'round here, they'll rob you blind. I know some people."
Ruso said, "I'm waiting till she's fit before I make any decisions."
The man shrugged. "Whenever you're ready. Let Merula get her smartened up and see how she turns out."
"Right." Ruso paused. "You're not going to ask me about the investigation?"
"What investigation?"
"There's a rumor going around that I'm investigating the death of your Saufeia."
"And?"
"And it's not true. So if you come across anything, you need to talk to Civilian Liaison. Not me."
"And what are they doing?"
Ruso scratched his ear. "They're uh-as far as I can tell, they've completed the first stage of the investigation and now they're waiting for developments."
"Huh. I won't hold me breath, then."
"So, when will the girls be back?"
"Shouldn't be long."
Ruso nodded. "I'll wait."
The girl's room was much the same as before except that a stool had been brought in and set by the window. On the seat was a faded red cushion with a patched cover. Ruso wondered if Merula had supplied this comfort so his patient could sit and gaze out between the window bars, or whether the girl had slipped out and helped herself.
Ruso glanced out at the street. The only people around were the woman at the bakery counter, a girl carrying a basket of eggs nested in bracken, and a small boy leading a goat. There was no sign of Merula's staff returning from their escorted bathing trip.
Ruso settled himself on the rough bench and took out the Concise Guide. He persisted in carrying this one writing tablet, despite having his own clerk following him around like a lost dog.
It had been a pity about that dog at the hospital, he thought. He should have been firmer in the first place. Made them give it away. Instead, it had fallen victim to the tidying urges of a man who seemed to have everything under control except his own bald patch. To be fair, the place was a lot cleaner since Priscus had returned. The hospital baths were neat, tidy, and hot. The wards were swept every morning.
Buckets were filled, candles replaced, shelves stocked, and spills instantly swooped on by men clutching mops. In the drive to root out inefficiency, two more clerks had taken up residence in the records room and now the medical staff had to ask to see patients' files and wait to have them fetched. It was all very impressive, and Ruso supposed he ought to be pleased about it.
He opened the tablet, slid the stylus out of its holder, and yawned. Glancing around at the bare walls, he wondered what the girl did in here all day. She did not seem to know anyone who would visit, which was unfortunate but not surprising. The ill-named Innocens must have traveled long distances with his trade. He could have picked her up anywhere in the province. Gazing out the window was all very well, but if she became idle and dispirited, it would slow her recovery. Fresh air and a short stroll to the baths three times a week would do her good, but in between times, he needed to find something useful to occupy her.
What did women do?
Claudia, as far as he knew, spent a few minutes each day giving orders to the servants and then went shopping, or sat exchanging mindless gossip with other wives, or tried a new hairstyle. When this became too tiring she retired to a couch with a selection of honey cakes and a scroll of trashy poetry. Since this girl had no servants, no money, and no friends, Claudia's example was not much help. With only one arm working she would not be able to fiddle with her hair, and the only use she would have for a scroll would be to light the fire with it.
The little he knew about useful but sedentary tasks like spinning and darning suggested that they too needed both hands. After a moment of staring at the cracks in the plaster, Ruso realized that he did not have a clue what a servant would do all day if she were unable to work.
He glanced back down at the blank sheet of wax. It was surprisingly quiet in here. Bassus, while he might have other unappealing habits, was not a whistler, and the crashing din of the construction sites had barely started. Most of the builders would still be at daily training with their units.
Ruso yawned again and tried to remember what should come next in the Concise Guide. It was difficult to think concisely when one had not had more than three hours' uninterrupted sleep in the past three days. He put the stylus and the tablet down on the bench. He would just have a quick doze to refresh his mind before pressing on with his work.
The blankets were folded neatly on the mattress. When he pulled them back, two apples tumbled out and rolled across the floor.
The mattress was no less comfortable than his own, which was scant recommendation. He pulled a blanket up over his shoulders and closed his eyes.
He was just drifting into a blissful sleep when he was pulled back into the room by the sound of something scuffling close by. He resolved to have a good look at the floor later. If he found any mouse droppings, he would demand a discount.