Six for Gold

Chapter Twenty-eight

Anatolius sought solitude by the pool in John’s garden, but found Europa pulling weeds from the herb beds.

As he approached along the graveled path, she looked up from her labor and began to giggle. “Anatolius, where are you going dressed like that?”

“I borrowed this fine clothing from Francio. Don’t you like it?”

“Since you ask, I don’t think those birds are suitable for a lawyer!”

His bright blue garment was embroidered with strutting peacocks, the colors of their tails repeated in the wide border edging neck, sleeves, and hem.

“Indeed. However, we must always dress appropriately for the task in hand.”

“Do you have to appear disguised as a cage full of peacocks now or has Theodora engaged you to spy on her menagerie?”

“I’ll explain later,” Anatolius muttered, aware of how feeble his words would seem.

He had decided it would be best to disguise himself before visiting Bishop Crispin with the pilgrim flasks. He didn’t want the bishop to be able to give a recognizable description of him. It would be safer if no one at court discovered he had been asking what might be termed prying questions.

“You’re very mysterious all of a sudden, Anatolius. Where’s the guileless young man I once knew? Is this newly-found reticence part of your new profession?”

“I wish people would stop questioning my decision to become a lawyer! None of us are in our usual humors with everything that’s going on, are we? I might equally ask what you’re doing tending to the garden.”

“Tending to the plants gets my mind off everything. I’m really worried about Thomas. He should be back by now.” She sighed. “The emperor must value father’s advice. Or must have valued it, before…”

Europa looked at the water gurgling into the pool through what was had once been the mouth of some stone creature now too eroded by time and the elements to identify. She sat down on the marble bench under a nearby olive tree. “Could father have killed the senator?”

Anatolius was shocked. “It’s not in his nature! Surely you cannot think so?”

“Isn’t it? He was a mercenary, wasn’t he? He killed men.”

Anatolius paced over to the side of the pool. “Indeed. In this case, though, it just isn’t possible.”

“Will he be in great danger in Egypt, do you think?”

Anatolius hesitated. “Even so far away, he’s still under Mithra’s protection.”

Europa’s bleak smile showed she had given his pause more weight than his answer. “I have petitioned the Goddess to bring them all safely home. Let’s hope the patriarch doesn’t get wind of that! Gods don’t go away just because the emperor proclaims some law or other.”

“True, but in public we’re all Christians.”

Europa wiped away tears.

“Thomas will be back soon,” Anatolius told her. “Do your best not to worry.”

Europa made no reply. The quiet trickle of water into the pool was the only sound in the garden.

“It’s so still,” Anatolius commented. “It’s as if even leaves don’t care to exert themselves enough to move.”

“Now you sound more like yourself! You could make an excellent set of verses from that one thought alone!”

Anatolius shifted his feet. “To be illiterate is-”

“You take words too seriously, Anatolius.” Her tone was suddenly so cold.

Too late, Anatolius recalled that Thomas could not read.

“There are too many words being written,” Europa went on, glaring at him. “All these lawyers and poets and officials and churchmen scribbling their lives away. And what do most of those words do? Hurt someone, or hide something, or cause trouble one way or another.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Cornelia. Thomas is a bit of a wanderer, and you’re-”

“A wanderer too. I’ve spent my entire life traveling with a troupe.”

“Yes but-”

“I ride bulls and I do it half-naked, just as my mother did.”

Anatolius looked at the formless form set in the pool. The hardest rock was not proof against time. “I’m sorry. You misunderstand. I didn’t intend to insult your husband. I was only concerned. People will wander off from where they’re safe, with no idea what they’re getting into-”

Europa peered at him. “Thomas is able to take care of himself. It’s Hypatia, isn’t it? You’re worried about Hypatia!”

“Certainly not!”

“Anatolius! You’re blushing!”

He disconsolately flapped a peacock-emblazoned sleeve. “I’m just embarrassed by this garish garment.”