Changing the subject almost before the words were out, the teacher gestured up the steep slope to the ancient citadel. The great temples of Jupiter and Juno glowered down at the city. In a breezy, less contemplative tone, he said, "I'm seeing this Carce for the first time."
"But surely you've been here before, master?" Varus said. "Why, I'd think you regularly came this way to get from your room to the Forum when you hold class there."
"So speaks the son of the wealthy Alphenus Saxa," Pandareus said. "Yes, my feet tread this pavement-"
He half-skipped to rap the toe of his sandal on the flagstone.
"-regularly. But on an ordinary day I would be dodging a crowd of those who would trample a slender scholar who dawdled in front of them. Today, I'm in a capsule formed by the companions of a consul, like a hickory nut in its shell."
"Ah!" said Varus. "The armor of righteousness, no doubt."
"I would be the last to claim that the father of my student and-if I may-friend Gaius Varus is not a righteous man," Pandareus agreed solemnly.
Varus thought about being insulated from the world. Pandareus was talking about physical protection here, but that was really a minor aspect of the way Varus was walled off. His father's wealth wasn't really a factor.
Varus had come to realize that though he lived in the world, he was not and never would be part of it. If footpads knocked him down and slit his throat, a part of him-the part that was most Gaius Alphenus Varus-would be watching them through a sheet of clear glass, interested to see how far his blood spurted when the knife went in.
Corylus could probably tell me from having watched it happen to somebody else. That would be a better way to learn.
Pandareus was watching him intently. Varus let his smile fade. He said, "Master, what do you think we'll find in this chapel? What should we be looking for?"
"Your lordship…," Pandareus said, being particularly careful in his address because they were in public. "We are intruding on Senator Tardus because of inferences which we deduced from your vision, coupled with additional knowledge which I brought to the discussion. All I can do is to say that I think we are acting in the most logical fashion that we could, given our limited information."
He grinned, becoming a different person. He said, "I will not lapse into superstition by saying that whoever or whatever sent you the vision was wise enough to give us as much information as we would need. I will particularly not say-"
The grin became even wider.
"-that he, or she, or it, is All-Wise. But the less rational part of me believes those things."
"A textbook example of praeteritio," Varus said. "And I accept the principle underlying your statement, which I deduce to be that the wise man, when faced with an uncertain result which he cannot affect, should assume it will be beneficial. The price is the same as it would be for a gloomy prediction."
"I've taught you well, my boy," Pandareus said. They were no longer joking. It was one of the few times Varus had heard what he would describe as real warmth in the older man's voice.
At the head of the procession the lictors stopped in front of a house and faced outward. Its walls were of fine-grained limestone, rather than marble over a core of brick or volcanic tuff as was the more recent style.
The chief lictor banged the butt of his axe helve on the door and boomed, "Open to Senator Gaius Alphenus Saxa, Consul of Carce!"
Varus drew a deep breath. He wondered what it would be like to wait for howling barbarians to charge, shaking their spears and their long, round-tipped swords.
At the moment, he would rather be out on the frontier, learning the answer to that question.
David Drake
Out of the Waters-ARC
CHAPTER 6
Alphena would have been happier walking, but Hedia had insisted that they take the litter to the Field of Mars. This shopping expedition was part of the business-business or trouble or mystery, Alphena didn't know what to call it-so she'd agreed, but it still made her unhappy.
Her face must have been squeezed into a petulant frown. Hedia raised her slippered foot and wriggled the big toe at her. Because they were seated facing one another in the litter, it was like somebody pointing an accusatory, short, but nonetheless very shapely, finger at her.
"Cheer up, dear," Hedia said. "We really have to do it this way, you see. No one would imagine me going shopping on foot. And though they'd let us into the shops I want to visit even with your original footgear-you'd be with me, after all-the last thing we want is to appear eccentric. We'll learn much more if Abinnaeus is thinking only about the amount of money he'll get from their gracious ladyships of Saxa's household. Besides-"
She touched the tip of Alphena's slipper with her finger. The upper was silk brocade instead of a filigree of gilt leather cutwork, and the toe was closed. Sword exercises wearing army footgear had left Alphena's feet beyond transformation into ladylike appearance in the time available, despite the skill of Hedia's own pedicure specialists.
"-these shoes wouldn't be at all comfortable to walk across the city in, dear. And we really do have to dress for the occasion. Think of it the way men put their togas on to go into court, even though there's never been a more awkward, ugly garment than a toga."
Alphena giggled. Even a young, gracefully slender, man like Publius Corylus looked rather like a blanket hung to dry on a pole when he wore his toga. Father, who was plump and clumsy, was more like the same blanket tumbled into a wash basket.
The Cappadocian bearers paced along as smoothly as the Tiber floating a barge. They were singing, but either the words were nonsense or they were in a language of their own.
Only the thin outer curtains of the litter were drawn, so Alphena could see what was going on about them. They were making their way through the forum built by Julius Caesar; the courtyard wasn't less congested than the streets to north and south, but there was more room for the crowd which was being pushed aside. The brick and stone walls bounding the street wouldn't give no matter how forcefully Hedia's escorts shoved people who were blocking the litter.
Alphena nodded in silent approvaclass="underline" someone had chosen the route with care and intelligence. This heavy vehicle required that sort of forethought.
The particular servants in attendance must have been chosen with equal care, because they were not Hedia's usual escort. "Ah, mother?" Alphena said. "That's Lenatus walking beside Manetho, isn't it?"
"Yes, dear," Hedia said approvingly. "Manetho is in charge of things under normal circumstances, but Master Lenatus will take command if, well, if necessary."
Alphena didn't recognize every member of the entourage, though she didn't doubt that they were all part of Saxa's household. She'd seen at least one man working in the gardens. Several more had been litter bearers before Alphena bought the new, larger vehicle with the matched team of Cappadocians; simply by inertia the previous bearers remained members of the household, though they had no regular duties.
The escort wore clean tunics, most of which appeared to have been bought as a job lot: they had identical blue embroidery at the throat, cuffs, and hem. Further, the men's hair was freshly cropped and they'd been shaven, though that had been done quickly enough that several were nicked or gashed.
The razor wounds stood out sharply against chins which since puberty must have been shaded by tangled beards. Alphena supposed that was better than being attended by a band of shaggy bravos. Though they still looked like bravos.