Terra Incognita

26

Whatever his ineptitude at managing staff, it seemed Thessalus was a competent medic. By the time Ruso had finished an evening tour of the wards, admired his predecessor’s handiwork on the splinted leg, and diagnosed the malingerers as in need of various gruesome therapies that he promised to administer first thing in the morning, the long hours of the spring day were at last coming to an end. He needed to visit Thessalus, but he was more immediately concerned with what had happened to Tilla. Quite possibly she had gone to visit her family, or been called to deliver a baby, but surely she would have left a message-or at least the supper she was supposed to be bringing-at the gate?

The fort had the customary four entrances, and in the customary fashion the information Ruso wanted was at the last one he tried. He had two questions, but as soon as he introduced himself the gate guard did not stop to find out what they were. Instead, the man groped inside the folds of his tunic and handed Ruso a coin. “I didn’t mean no offense, sir. It was all just a bit of a joke. Only she took umbrage and walked off before I could explain.”

“Ah,” said Ruso, imagining the scene.

“And I asked if she wanted to leave a message, but she didn’t. And I couldn’t let her in without a gate pass. So if you could let her have the money back, sir, and tell her it was all just a bit of fun?”

Ruso glanced down at the profile of the late emperor Trajan and back up at the less impressive head of a sentry with an odd shadow under his nostrils that turned out to be a vigorous sprouting of black hairs.

“Next time,” he said, “just take a message when you’re asked. And if you don’t want this to go any farther, try to be a little more helpful about something else. I need to know about an emergency call for the doctor that came in last night.”

The guard, who had not been on duty at the time, went to fetch the watch captain. He returned with the captain and a youth who looked barely old enough to be sent around the corner to buy a pound of figs, let alone serve overseas with the army.

“Oh yes, sir!” the youth exclaimed in answer to Ruso’s question. “I saw the doctor and Gambax come in before curfew. I remember because Gambax was drunk.”

The watch captain glared at him.

“And then Doctor Thessalus went out on his horse and I remember thinking I was glad I wasn’t ill, sir, because-”

“The officer doesn’t want to know what you were thinking!” interrupted the watch captain. “This is the army, not a bloody philosophy club.” He glanced at Ruso. “Sorry, sir. He’s new.”

Ruso said, “I’m trying to find out who took the message calling for a doctor.” Realizing this sounded like a threat, he added, “The patient wanted to say thank you.” He hoped this did not sound as lame to his listeners as it did to him.

“Would that be the call for Doctor Thessalus or the call for Gambax, sir?”

“There was only one call, surely?”

“I don’t know, sir. We didn’t get either of them. You’d have to ask at the other gates. But Gambax went out just after Doctor Thessalus.”

Ruso frowned. “Out?”

The youth’s head bobbed. “His case must have been nearer, though, ’cause he was on foot. And he was back before long, but I didn’t see Doctor Thessalus again.”

When the youth had gone Ruso observed, “He looks very young,” and realized with horror that it was the sort of remark he and Lucius used to deride from their father.

“They’ll be sending them straight out of the cradle soon,” observed the watch captain, who could not have been much over twenty-five himself.

“While I’m here,” said Ruso, “how do I go about getting a gate pass for my housekeeper?”

The man shook his head. “You’d have a hard time sir. The only civilians allowed in with no escort are the prefect’s family. Security policy. Because of the way the natives are.”

“But she’s only a woman!”

The watch captain shook his head again. “So was Helen of Troy, sir. Look what she started.”