Ten for Dying

Chapter Thirteen

Felix shook his fist at Anastasia.

“No!” She shoved the fist away. “No more micatio!”

He shook his fist again anyway, shouted “Three!” and opened his hand extending two fingers, just in case Anastasia relented and reciprocated.

She didn’t. Instead she got up from the dining room table and stared out into the long twilight shadows creeping across the garden. “I can’t bear to play that stupid game again. Besides, unless you’re gambling on it, where’s the interest?”

“There’s the strategy. I noticed you kept showing one finger so I showed two and guessed the total would be three. I suppose you thought I was bound to guess you’d stop showing just the one eventually and-”

“I couldn’t be bothered to lift more than one finger, Felix.” She shook her hand. “My wrist is sore from micatio!”

Felix helped himself to some figs from a platter on the table. “Well, have some more to eat then. It isn’t dark enough yet.”

“I’m not hungry. After spending all that time in the bath, with that hideous thing…I may never feel like eating again.”

“It’s only a corpse, Anastasia. I’m still sorry you had to display yourself to those-”

She turned, her hands balled into fists. “Oh, Felix! I saved your life and you’re fretting over me exposing myself to a couple of youngsters?”

Felix ran a hand through his beard. “Well…”

The grim line of her mouth suddenly softened into a smile. “It is rather touching, my big bear.” Immediately her face fell again. “But you can’t imagine what it was like half expecting to feel a cold, wet hand on my naked back.”

After Felix had shown the flustered urban watchmen out, she had been waiting for him in bed, trembling. They had made love until Felix was worn out. Then they had made plans.

Felix had to dispose of the body, but it would have to wait until darkness, when there was less chance of being observed. Once they decided what to do they had to bide their time. They walked in the garden, Felix ate and tried to encourage Anastasia to do the same. They played micatio. They also listened for a knock on the house door, announcing the authorities had arrived to conduct a more thorough search.

“I often wish I had never come to this city,” Felix said.

Anastasia gave a small lady-like snort of disapproval. “How often have you told me you were thrilled to escape that farm in Germania?”

“True enough. As soon as I could walk, my father had me patrolling the fields.”

“As soon as you could walk?”

“Well, I may have been a little older. He had me protecting our borders from wolves. I was armed with a sharpened stick.”

“What was your father thinking? What could a child with a sharp stick do against a wolf?”

Felix smiled, remembering. “Oh, there weren’t any wolves. Our farm was part of a settlement around a Roman fort. Most of what we grew we sold to the army. My father wished he had led a more exciting life. He had entertained Roman officers at dinner from time to time and I listened to their stories. When I patrolled the fields I imagined I was guarding the Persian border.”

“You did spend some time at the border, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and during the middle of night, staring out over that desolate landscape, I remembered watching for wolves to emerge from the woods. The difference was, there really were Persians among the crags and ravines.”

“You must have left home at an early age.”

“As soon as I was old enough I walked into the local fort and joined the army. My mother cried. She had hoped I would be a farmer like my family had always been but my father had put other ideas into my head.”

“Your father must have been happy. You certainly have led an exciting life.”

“A farmer might think so. My mistake was excelling as a soldier. I was eventually sent to Constantinople and brought to the attention of Emperor Justin. I became one of his bodyguards.”

“But soon you will be fighting in Italy.”

“Provided the corpse in the bath doesn’t end up blocking my way.”

“Everything will turn out all right. Tell me more about Germania.”

“But I’ve already told you about all that.”

Felix felt the weight of his predicament pressing in on him and grew silent.

After a while Anastasia said, “I can’t bear it, sitting here, waiting and waiting. I have things to attend to at the palace. I’ll be missed. I’ll come back before dark.”

Felix had taken hold of her arm, gently but firmly. “Stay. Please.”

She stared at him. “Do you think I’d betray you to the City Prefect?”

He looked away, ashamed. How could he doubt this woman who shared his bed? And yet a woman about whom he knew nothing? “Perhaps I should go for a stroll to calm my nerves.”

She gave him a grim look. “No. I would prefer you didn’t. It feels like rain. The breeze has a chill in it. I wouldn’t want you to get wet. It’s best that we both stay here.”

So, they understood each other. Both feared the other, and with reason, given both might be found equally guilty. Those who unthinkingly trusted others, those who were never afraid, did not survive long at the palace.

Anastasia must have guessed what Felix was thinking. She grasped his hand and led him back to the bedroom.

The day passed slowly. There was time for speculation. The corpse remained a mystery. In death the courier had been empty-handed. If he had carried a package to the house someone had taken it. Had the man been robbed and killed in the courtyard upon his arrival or had he been left there? There was no way to tell. Anastasia did not recognize the dead man as anyone she had seen at court. The discolored and contorted face bore little semblance of humanity and she could barely bring herself to glance at it.

At some point Felix decided how to deal with his unwelcome visitor. He would not resort to lawyers or the authorities. Laws were unreliable allies. He would handle the matter himself.

After an eternity, when a single invisible bird sang from the darkness pooled in the garden, Felix instructed Nikomachos to order the servants to remain in their quarters for the night.

“I will summon you later to refresh the bath.”

Nikomachos’ face exhibited its usual vaguely supercilious expression.

How much had he observed apart from the obvious fact that two of the urban watch had searched the house? Had he seen the body? Had he overheard anything of their conversation?

“And you will remain at the house until I give you further orders,” Felix added.

Nikomachos offered one of his bows, little more than a peevish twitch, and departed.

“He knows,” Anastasia said.

“Why do you think so?”

“He’s always hovering nearby, listening, peeping. And the other servants must know. They must have realized something illegal was going on, with this courier constantly arriving in the middle of the night.”

“Not at all. I dropped hints to Nikomachos that I was buying silk at less than imperial prices. These days, who doesn’t?”

He took the last fig, stuck it into his mouth, and wiped his fingers on his tunic. “But now I have work to do.”