Nicanor - Teller of Tales Part 7

"He'll not sleep this off for another six hours," he growled. "Wife, some water."

The hawk-nosed woman came to his side with a jug of water. As she gave it to him, she put one hand, gnarled, distorted by work, hairy as a man's, on his broad shoulder, and he put his own hand up over it. They stood silent, looking down at the black head buried in the dingy blankets. The lamplight fell soddenly on their faces, throwing them into relief against the murky gloom of the room. Nicodemus grunted, and without warning emptied the water over the black head. Myleia laughed huskily. The remedy was partially effectual. The head rose dripping from the blankets, with dazed and drunken eyes.

"Pull thyself together, Nicanor, lad!" Nicodemus said sharply. "Valerius is coming for thee. Thou hast overstayed thy leave; he is to take thee back to the house of thy lord. Dost understand?"

Nicanor, answering nothing, sat upright with an effort, pressing his hands to his head, his body swaying slightly from the hips. Nicodemus put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come!" he urged.

Nicanor looked at him, blinking stupidly. Still he did not speak, but moistened his lips with a swollen tongue. He began to sink slowly back into the blankets, supine and inert. Nicodemus sat on the edge of the bunk and pa.s.sed a long gorilla arm about his shoulders. He motioned to his wife, who stood watching, arms akimbo, her face expressive of lively sympathy. She went to the shelves where stood the jars of liquor, returning with a br.i.m.m.i.n.g horn cup. Nicodemus took this, tilted back the heavy head at his shoulder, and started to pour its contents down Nicanor's throat. Nicanor choked, gasped, and swallowed automatically.

A black figure blocked out the twilight in the door.

"Peace be with ye, friends! What's all this?" said a hearty voice.

Valerius entered; saw the face of the patient, and stopped short.

"Nicanor!" he exclaimed. "Why, I'm come for him. He should have been back last night. Hito--prince of overseers--hath a black mark against him. Drunk again?"

Nicodemus nodded casually. "Bide a bit, friend, and I'll have him in shape. He's awake now."

Nicanor, slowly recovering his sodden wits, looked at Valerius, recognizingly, opened his mouth to speak, found the exertion too great, and shut it again. He let his head sink back against Nicodemus.

Presently, with his eyes closed, he said thickly:

"You, Valerius? What now?"

"I want you, my friend," said Valerius, promptly. "It would seem you forget the trifling fact that Hito commanded your return last night.

While you wear the collar, you'll have to heed the word of him who holds the chain--mark you that. You're in for a flogging as it is--best not let your case get to higher quarters." He turned to Nicodemus. "Can we get him started, think you?"

Nicodemus let the s.h.a.ggy head drop back into the bunk, and rose.

"Let him bide an hour and he'll be ready for you," he suggested. "Which is to say that he'll be able to walk, with help. Sit you down, comrade--the night's young yet."

He beckoned Valerius with him to the table, with a nod at Myleia. She brought cups and an ampulla of wine--not from among those upon the shelves. Valerius, with a grunt of satisfaction, pushed his sword out of his way and sat down. But voices at the door, a shout, a pounding of horses' hoofs, recalled Nicodemus to his duties as host. He signed to Valerius to help himself, and hurried to the door.

The twilight had deepened into dusk, through which the fires at the ford glowed redly. The air, sharp with the evening chill, was vibrant with sounds of preparation for the night. Outside the wine-shop door a group was gathered,--three men mounted, three others afoot. One of the latter, a slave, was calling l.u.s.tily for admittance, beating with his staff upon the door.

"Here, lords, here!" cried Nicodemus in alarm. "What may the lords be pleased to want?"

"Food and drink and a place to sleep if you have it," said one on horseback. His voice was full and resonant and very deep; the tones of one used to command men. Another added querulously:

"This place is crowded to the doors. Every public-house--Say quick if you can take us in, for a cloud of vermin is swarming at our heels, ready to snap the food from our very jaws."

Nicodemus's eye, long used to sizing up the purses of would-be customers, lighted to quick and eager greed.

"All I have is at your lordships' service. You say truly; Thorney is crowded, so that many will sleep on the naked ground to-night."

There came a group of weary carters along the street, smelling loudly of drink and of the stables, clamoring at every crowded house for bed and board. Nicodemus saw the disgusted scorn with which the lord who had last spoken regarded these; saw the other two on horseback turn away as though contaminated by the very atmosphere of their presence,--an atmosphere none too sweet, in truth,--and promptly took his cue.

"Nay, friend," said he to the foremost carter, as they cl.u.s.tered close around, hopeful at last of shelter. "You're too late--I'm full. Best go to the Black c.o.c.k--a step further down the street. There you'll find all you ask for."

"The Black c.o.c.k be full also," the man protested sulkily. "You have room to spare! See then, friend, we'll pay 'ee well."

But Nicodemus, fearful lest his golden geese should fly, turned on him fiercely.

"Get ye gone! I've no time to d.i.c.ker over coppers. I'm full, I tell you, and that's all there is to it.--This way, lords."

He led his guests into the house, shouting for Myleia to come and put up the horses. Two wore the dress of private citizens of wealth; the equipment of the third and youngest proclaimed him a military tribune.

The face of this one, the most noticeable of the trio--a man of some seven-and-thirty years--was pale and aristocratic, with high nose, thick and level brows, a thin-lipped mouth at once refined and sensual. And the eyes were the eyes of a son of Rome the Mighty, dark, keen, dominant, impatient of restraint. Behind them one might read what the man himself stood for; the epitome of centuries of culture, of severest physical training and the restraint of the discipline of the mightiest machine the world had ever seen; and, at the same time, of equal centuries of indulgence and luxury and vice--a curious mingling of ascetic and sybarite. Of the other two, one bore a marked resemblance to the soldier, with the pride and pa.s.sion of the younger face tempered by years to a mellower dignity. He was richly dressed, and on his thumb was a large and heavily chased signet ring. The third man, who at first spoke little, keeping his eyes cast down, was small and shrivelled, with a scholar's face and a distinct cast in the right eye.

These three sat at the table, whence Valerius had hurriedly removed himself and his wine, and were served obsequiously by Nicodemus and his wife with the best the house afforded. For a while they ate and drank in silence. Then the tongue of the small old man, loosened by the wine, began to wag. He spoke abruptly, in a voice husky and somewhat over-precise.

"I had not looked to see thee here, friend Marius. Thy father made no mention of thy coming."

"He knew nothing of it," the young tribune answered shortly. "There was no time to send word from Gaul--where I have been stationed these last two years--that I had been ordered into Britain. And when I arrived, he was travelling, and my letter did not reach him."

"He came with his legion, which is that one sent hither by the proconsul aetius of Gaul, at the request of the governors of the cities to drive out the barbarians from Britannia Secunda. And that was nine months ago," his father explained.

"So; I see. It was gallant work of gallant men," said the old man with effusion. The soldier shrugged his broad shoulders in an indifference half contemptuous. "And thou hast remained in Britain since thy comrades sailed back to Gaul?"

"The commander left certain men to guard against further outbreak," the father of Marius explained, patiently. "And my son is of that number.

But the trouble seems thoroughly subdued, and they have been ordered to return to Gaul."

"I have applied for leave by the physicians' orders, having been wounded during the affair," said Marius. "Myself I know that I am fit for service, but I am constrained--" Again he shrugged. "A campaign hath been started in Gaul against the Huns who threaten us, and you may guess if I like the prospect of missing it. Until my leave is granted, I am here to make arrangements for a vessel for my cohort. After, I shall remain for some weeks; it is long since my father and I have been together."

"And those weeks, I doubt not, you will spend together at the house of Eudemius," the old man persisted, and received a curt grunt of a.s.sent.

Undeterred by lack of enthusiasm of his hearers, he settled to the discussion of a new subject.

"It is years since I have seen him, but men say that he is greatly changed, since the physicians have failed to mend his daughter's misfortune."

The soldier, staring moodily into his horn cup, made no sign of having heard. His father poured himself more wine, and nodded. The old man added, with a chuckle and a senile attempt at jocularity:

"Marius, boy, thou shouldst but see her! Not a G.o.ddess of Rome herself could equal her. Eh, but she's the morsel for thy lips, she and her fat lands and the gold of her father's coffers. And it were high time thou shouldst think of marriage."

"I care nothing for damaged goods," Marius interrupted. "And as for marriage, that may well wait awhile."

"But since thou art to visit the father, it is but meet that thou shouldst become enamoured of the daughter, for the time at least. What else could be expected of thee?" quavered he of the cast. He poured himself another cup of wine; his hand, none too steady, shook, and the liquor spilled. Hereat he wept, dolefully, and forgot his discourse on the duty of guests to their hosts' daughters. Unheeding him, the others talked quietly, in low tones. But he, bound to hold the centre of the stage, remembered suddenly what he wished to say, and began again.

"My boy, thou couldst have her for the taking!"

Marius, his speech with his father interrupted, eyed him with a sort of grim patience, waiting until he chose to cease.

"A fit morsel for thy lips," the garrulous one repeated. "I speak of what mine eyes have seen. What if the mind be wanting, so long as the face is fair? Many a man hath found too much mind a sorry investment in a wife. And she's fair enough! By Venus, yes! Eyes like clouded stars, midnight tresses, a bosom whiter than milk--"

Marius laughed scornfully.

"Maybe so! But so have a thousand others, with sense thrown in. Why so keen to set me after her? Let the poor fool be. I tell you I'll have no damaged goods. If I marry at all, by the veil of Isis, the price I must needs pay will be high enough to warrant me in asking the best in return."

Nicanor, hearing the murmur of voices, raised his head slowly and looked over the edge of the bunk. He saw Valerius in his corner, sound asleep, and wondered what he wanted there. The old man sat with his back to him, but the face of the soldier was in plain sight. At him Nicanor stared, stolidly, without interest, and let himself drop back into the blankets. But the remedy of Nicodemus was beginning to have effect. By degrees his head became clearer; objects in the room no longer jumped startlingly when he set his glance upon them; his thoughts became more connected. There had been a scene in a garden--her garden. Marcus had come; had discovered him with her. His heart stood still. What had happened then? Had he killed the old man? He recalled the truth with a gasp of relief which yet was mingled with apprehension. But afterwards?