"I've got nothing against dogs!" Unlike the captain of the watch, who had found plenty to say after the terrier bitch had bitten him in the excitement.
"Where did they go, by the way?"
Ruso shifted his grip on the trunk. "The watch asked the vets to take them in and check them over. Listen, I'm sure I didn't-"
"Ruso, it doesn't matter. Really. They're sending a gang to help clean up in the morning and I expect the stores will lend you some bedding until you can replace mine. Frankly, for a chap who's just nearly had his house burned down-and I could have been in it, did you think of that? — I'm really extremely calm." He paused in the doorway of an empty room. "I'll take this one. You can have the one around the corner. Don't snore too loud or Priscus will complain."
"Priscus?"
"He's here somewhere. Monitoring levels of after-hours activity."
Ruso checked to make sure Priscus was not lurking in the corridor, and cleared his throat. "Valens?"
Valens flung his armful of possessions onto the floor. "Gods, those feathers are everywhere. What now?"
"What if it wasn't me?"
"Ruso, you're overwrought. What do you mean, what if it wasn't ›you? Next you'll be blaming the dogs. Just try and be more careful in the future, will you?"
Ruso put down On Airs, Waters, and Places, rubbed his eyes, and squinted into the candle flame. Perhaps he really had forgotten to pinch out his light. Perhaps the puppy had grabbed it, carried it down to the end of the bed, and… and Valens was right, he was overwrought. He turned back to Hippocrates. Moments later he found himself mulling over the conversation with the civilian liaison officer.
How much do you know about ghosts?
Nothing.
But would you want to annoy one?
He did not believe in ghosts, but neither did he believe in mattresses that set themselves on fire. That was why he had deposited the bead in the mortuary. And why, although he could scarcely believe he was doing it, he now stepped out of bed and gazed around the little room, wondering what he could find that had a connection with the emperor Trajan.
Eventually he delved into his purse and took out a bronze coin. He placed it on the trunk that had been with him in Antioch. Trajan gazed sideways from the surface of the coin while Ruso stood facing him with his arms outstretched.
"Noble Trajan," he said to the trunk, keeping his voice down in case anyone should overhear, "Noble Trajan, this is Gaius Petreius Ruso. We met in Antioch. I was there when you… " He paused.
You must put yourself forward, Gaius!
"I saved your life in the earthquake," he said. Just in case there was any doubt, he added, "We got out through the window. Now, my Lord, they tell me you may be with the gods, and I am in need of your help. I pray you will keep me safe through this night from any spirits who wish me harm, and I ask you to grant peace"-How very, very much he hoped Priscus was not lurking outside the door-"I ask you to grant peace to the spirit of the woman who died wearing the blue glass-oh, this is ridiculous!" He flung himself back on the bed. There was no sense in being logical about the gods in daylight only to abandon oneself to superstition and trembling during the hours of the night. A man did not become a god just by dying, no matter what his successor might decree.
Ruso perched himself on the bed with the blanket around his shoulders, splashed cold water on his eyes, and settled down to spend the rest of the night with Hippocrates.
38
The man who came to crash open Ruso s shutters and wish him a hearty good morning found him propped against the wall with his head lolled to one side. An abandoned scroll lay beside him on the bed and a solid pool of wax marked the site of a dead candle. "How are you today, sir?"
Ruso rubbed his neck and tried to maneuver his head back to an upright position. As he did so he suddenly realized why he was here. "I'm still alive!" he announced to the surprised orderly.
The pleasure was short-lived. He had just remembered his first job this morning: to go and retrieve the contents of that pot from the mortuary and find Decimus.
How quickly a man's hopes could crumble. The porter clutched the little bead in his heavy fist as he tried to rub away the tears spilling over into the creases between his fingers.
"I'm sorry," said Ruso.
The porter nodded and managed, "Thank you, sir." He sniffed.
"How did you know it was her?"
"I didn't. But I knew your girl had disappeared some time ago and I thought you'd be able to identify her jewelry."
"I wish I hadn't said them things about her."
"You were the only one who kept looking for her."
The porter sniffed again. "Did she suffer, sir?"
"I'm told there were people on the scene very quickly, but nobody heard any cries for help. It's quite possible she lit a fire to keep warm, fell asleep, and knew nothing about it." Had it not been for the dogs, would he have woken last night? Would he have realized what was happening? He didn't know.
The man had opened his fist and was rolling the bead around in his palm with the tip of a finger. "I bought this for her in Viroconium when I was on leave, sir. It was on a necklace. Just a cheap thing."
"She must have valued it to wear it."
"She told me not to waste a lot of money on presents. I was saving up. I was going to get her out of there. She promised me she'd wait." Ruso said nothing.
"Why didn't she tell me she was going to run away?"
"Perhaps she went on the spur of the moment," suggested Ruso.
"She didn't have time to send a message."
The porter sighed. "She was a good girl, my Asellina. I know what people said. But it wasn't her fault she had to work in that place. I was going to buy her out. We had plans." The man looked up suddenly "All that about the sailor. I knew it wasn't true. First they tried to blame me for stealing her, then they just made up that sailor to shut me up. What do you think made her run away, sir?"
"I don't suppose we'll ever know," said Ruso, not voicing the thought that finding the girl's remains proved nothing: She could have been hiding while waiting for any number of sailors. Or soldiers. Or even a well-heeled local. He put his hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm very sorry, Decimus."
The man picked up the bead between his forefinger and thumb. "Can I keep this, sir?"
"Of course." Ruso coughed, and wondered how much smoke he had inhaled the night before. "Tell me some more about her," he suggested." She sounds…" He paused, not sure how to phrase it. "She sounds like a kindhearted sort of girl."
"Wouldn't hurt a fly, sir. She never had no enemies, Asellina. Got on with everybody." The man paused. "Except… well, you know. But she never meant no harm."
"There were people she didn't like?"
"Oh, no, sir. She liked everybody. Well, near enough. They have customers down at the bar that nobody likes. But they have to be nice to them, it's their job. The thing was, sir, she used to see the funny side of things. She used to make me laugh. But not everybody knows how to have a good laugh, do they, sir?"
"No," agreed Ruso, relieved. Clearly Asellina had not been vindictive in life: Even if there were such things as ghosts, there was no reason to suppose that in death she would be any different.
Decimus wiped his nose on his fingers and got to his feet. "She deserves a decent funeral, sir."
"Now we know who she is, I'll get the civilian liaison to go and see Merula. Then you'll have to talk to her about funerals."
Decimus nodded and squared his shoulders. "I'll see to it. Are you all right yourself now, sir?"
"Fine, thank you."
"I was sorry to hear about your troubles last night. And now they go and find my Asellina this morning. What do you make of that, sir?"