One for Sorrow

Chapter Fifty-four

Peter disliked sharing his kitchen so he was doubly distressed to have both Felix and Anatolius crowding him as he cooked. Thankfully, Felix did not seem inclined to stay long.

“I had hoped to find John home,” he was saying. “I wanted to thank him for his assistance the other night.”

“You look grim enough to be on your way to the wars, Felix,” observed Anatolius.

Felix grunted. “I’ve had a lot on my mind and some hard decisions to make. And what about you? Since when does a scribe arm himself?” He indicated the scabbard at Anatolius’ hip.

“Since I achieved the rank of Soldier.”

“Well, it might impress the ladies more than your poetry. It’s a pity you can’t say anything about it!”

“It is hardly an affectation, Felix. There seems to be more then the usual amount of danger about recently.”

Peter noisily stirred the pot on the brazier. He was of the opinion that in Anatolius’ unskilled hands the sword would be about as useful as Peter’s iron spoon.

Anatolius inquired about the bundle Felix carried.

“Isis gave me some mementos of Berta. Jewelry. I did keep a bracelet I’d given her, but the rest, who knows where or who they came from? I don’t want to think about it. I know a merchant who deals in such things, who’ll give me a good price. Enough to cover the cost of Berta’s funeral.”

“Then you know a merchant I don’t. Could I take a look?”

Felix undid his bundle and laid out its contents on the table. Peter frowned, wishing the two would leave. Nevertheless he glanced over his shoulder at the jewelry.

“Your Berta favored green,” Anatolius said. “I know a lady these could adorn, and I wager I can give you a much better price than your merchant.”

“All right. I’ll leave the jewelry for you to look over. Now I need to be off to attend to other business.”

“Of an official nature?”

Felix stamped out without answering.

“Am I the only one in my right senses?” Anatolius exclaimed. “John’s looking for a murderer already dead. And there’s Thomas with his foolish quest.”

Peter muttered under his breath. Anatolius had been in his way for an hour while supposedly waiting for John. In reality, Peter guessed, the young man was hoping Europa would emerge from her bedroom.

“What do you think of the so-called knight, Peter?”

The servant stirred the boiling mixture in the pot hard enough to slop a few drops over its side. They hissed on the charcoal in the brazier. “It isn’t for a servant to comment on his master’s associates.”

“You don’t trust Thomas, do you?”

Peter had disliked Thomas at first sight, although he couldn’t have said why. “The master is a better judge of character than I am,” was all he said.

“Sometimes John’s too intelligent for his own good. He can’t see what’s right in front of his face.” Anatolius tapped his fingers on the table. “Why can’t he see through the man? Thomas has been behaving suspiciously ever since he showed up. Now, consider this, Peter. He’s staying at the Inn of the Centaurs, which is also where Leukos, like me, visited the soothsayer. The soothsayer’s dagger was used to murder Leukos. But couldn’t Thomas have stolen it, followed Leukos to the alley, and then killed him?”

“I admit I don’t like the man Thomas, but I do not see him as a murderer,” Peter responded. He did not add that he thought Anatolius’ opinion was colored by the attention Thomas was paying to Europa.

Anatolius banged his fist on the table. “I must confront him! If John won’t, then I must. In fact, I shall go around to the inn right now and demand to see Thomas immediately.”

He leapt from his chair and bolted from the kitchen, leaving the jewelry on the table. Peter shook his head at the impetuosity of youth. As he added boiled fish to the sauce, he wondered if Thomas would even be at the inn. For Anatolius’ sake, he hoped not. Putting the thought aside, he turned his mind to matters of more immediate concern, and tasted the sauced fish. It might be possible to make a passable dinner after all. If John ever returned and if the women ever emerged from their rooms. A little more oregano, perhaps?

There was a loud rapping at the house door. “The devil take you, whoever you are,” Peter muttered.

The old servant did not recognize the caller but the man’s rough tunic and breeches did not speak of the palace.

The stranger held out a folded sheet of parchment and spoke without preamble.

“Thomas asked me to bring this urgent note.”

***

Anatolius strode into the courtyard of the Inn of the Centaurs.

The heavy scabbard rubbed painfully against his leg and he kept his hand on the sword hilt, less to be ready for action than to attempt to keep the scabbard from swinging in such an irritating fashion. He was greeted by the imposing, albeit unarmed, Mistress Kaloethes.

“I must speak with the innkeeper at once,” Anatolius demanded. “It concerns one of your guests.”

“My husband isn’t here,” she snapped. “What’s your business?”

“I am investigating a murder.”

Mistress Kaloethes glared at him. “You’re the second inquisitive visitor I’ve had today. You won’t be wanting to rummage through my clothes too, will you?”

Anatolius was given no time to respond to this unexpected question because Mistress Kaloethes, bristling with rage, swept on, her shrill voice rising. “He went through everything! He even examined the marks on my silver plates and tossed my personal belongings about. And can you imagine the gall, he stole one of my best table linens!”

“I assure you, I am not here with any such intent. I wish to speak to Thomas.”

“Him?” Mistress Kaloethes gave a sudden laugh. “What would an emissary from the court of the king of Bretania have to do with such a foppish youngster as you?”

“I am secretary to Justinian, madam.”

“So you’re from the palace?” The woman gave an appraising look at Anatolius. “Still, scribblers aren’t paid much, are they?”

“Is Thomas here?” Anatolius persisted.

“I am here, Anatolius.”

Thomas had just entered the courtyard. He moved to the fountain. “Mistress Kaloethes,” he addressed the woman, bowing slightly. “If you would leave us alone.”

“Certainly, sir. Let me know if you need anything,” she simpered, and retired into the inn.

“What do you want of me?” Thomas demanded, his voice going cold. “It must be important since you’ve armed yourself. Is it about Europa?”

“No, it’s-”

“She is a very attractive young lady. But like myself, she must travel from country to country. Soon we will all go our separate ways, she and I included. Did you think you would be able to convince her to stay here with you?”

“That is none of your business,” Anatolius responded hotly. He grasped the hilt of his sword more tightly. His heart was pounding.

“I did not come to your city to have romances with young ladies, my friend. I came on a much greater quest, a quest that requires many sacrifices. Indeed, for it a knight must sacrifice even love.”

“And will a knight kill to further his quest?”

“If it should become necessary. Do you propose to test me?”

“You killed Leukos, didn’t you?” Anatolius was mortified his voice quavered as he forced the accusation out.

A smile flickered underneath Thomas fiery mustache. “People entertain many strange beliefs in this city.”

Anatolius reached for his sword. Before it was even free of the scabbard, Thomas’ sword was resting against the young man’s chest.

Ice closed around Anatolius’ heart. In the wink of an eye, he would be covered with blood. Not the blood of a sacrificial bull this time, but his own.

Instead of driving the sword home, Thomas spoke. “You are fortunate that I am beyond feeling the sting of your petty insults, lad. I have just met a traveler from Bretania. He told me the High King is dead. There is no need for me to continue the quest.”

Thomas lowered his weapon.

As he did so, John burst into the courtyard. “Peter said I’d find you here, Anatolius,” he called out. “Both of you, hurry! Cornelia and Europa have been abducted!”

“What?” Anatolius was at a loss for words.

“When I returned home,” John explained rapidly, “Peter told me that a note from Thomas had been delivered for Cornelia and Europa. Despite her mother counseling caution, Europa rushed off and Cornelia naturally followed. They’re on their way to the Cistern of Hermes.”

Thomas blurted out an obscene oath.

Anatolius looked toward John in confusion, then back at Thomas.

The knight snorted impatiently. “Of course the note wasn’t from me, you hotheaded young fool. I can’t write!”