David Drake - Out of the waters

"In the army, Corylus says they sing to keep time," Varus said as they ambled through the city. "From the songs he describes, it's probably as well that we're not doing that. Otherwise Tardus would be in a panic to lock up his daughters."

"Or sons," Pandareus said, straight-faced. "Though I'm sure that the standards of the eastern legions that I'm familiar with are less manly and rigorous than those of the Rhine frontier."

I didn't expect to be laughing repeatedly on this expedition, Varus thought. The obvious answer-because everything was a question, looked at in the correct fashion-struck him. He looked at Pandareus and said, "Thank you, master. You have taught me more by example than even from the knowledge you have accumulated."

"I would not be a good model for most of the young men who become my students," Pandareus said, looking up with interest at the imperial palace on their right. Only servants were present, since the Emperor was-as usual-on Capri. "Certainly not for Master Corylus, of course: he is far too forceful and decisive to gain from my style of self-management. But you, Lord Varus… I believe you understand my own qualms and uncertainties all too well, so my practiced ways of dealing with them could be useful."

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

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 approval: 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?"