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    Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire
    Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire
    Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire
    Ebook523 pages8 hours

    Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire

    By Ruth Downie

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    **THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER**

    A serial killer is on the loose in Roman-occupied Britain, and Gaius Petreius Ruso is out to catch him... if he isn't killed first.

    The Gods are not smiling on army doctor Gaius Petreius Ruso in his new posting in Britannia. He has vast debts, long shifts, and an overbearing hospital administrator to deal with . . . not to mention a serial killer stalking the local streets.

    Barmaids' bodies are being washed up with the tide and no one else seems to care. It's up to Ruso to summon all his skills to investigate, even though the breakthroughs in forensic science lie centuries in the future, and the murderer may be hunting him down too.

    If only the locals would just stop killing each other and if only it were possible to find a decent glass of wine, and someone who can cook, Ruso's prospects would be a whole lot sunnier....

    The first novel in the New York Times bestselling Gaius Petreius Ruso series. With a gift for comic timing and historic detail, Ruth Downie has conjured an ancient world as raucous and real as our own.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBloomsbury USA
    Release dateDec 11, 2008
    ISBN9781596917743
    Medicus: A Novel of the Roman Empire
    Author

    Ruth Downie

    Ruth Downie is the author of the New York Times bestselling Medicus, Terra Incognita, Persona Non Grata, and Caveat Emptor. She is married with two sons and lives in Devon, England.

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    Reviews for Medicus

    3.5/5

    441 ratings40 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Gaius Petreius Ruso would rather just do his job as a medical doctor for a Roman legion in Britain, but when some locals bring in a dead body - unsure what else to do with it - he finds himself drawn in to find out who she was and what happened to her.This first in a series of historical mysteries featuring Medicus Ruso incorporates details of setting and medical procedures of the time that will satisfy historical fiction fans. Ruso is the kind of character who is rather reluctant to get involved, but does what he believes to be the right thing, whether that's buying a young, attractive slave girl with a broken arm, or continuing to look into the murder after those with real power have washed their hands of it. Secondary characters such as Ruso's scribe, Albanus, and his fellow doctor and erstwhile housemate, Valens, make for some fun moments as the story keeps up a compelling but not frenetic pace.
    • 4/5
      Really enjoyed this one - a satisfying mystery of ancient Britain (under Roman rule). I liked the details of medical science of the time, as well as the character development. Am looking forward to the next one in the series.
    • 2/5
      Sometimes the books assigned for reading in book clubs tend to dull the senses. Medicus by Ruth Downie set in early Rome displays interesting details of life during this time, but the writing style tended to make the story dull. Medicus is the term used for doctors, and the main character is a military doctor. The story explains the life of slaves and masters, and the terrible living conditions with mice and insects. This is the first of a series, but this reader will not continue reading this series.
    • 4/5
      Gaius Petrius Ruso is doctor serving with a Roman legion in Britain. Not very long ago, he was married, a hero (he had saved the Emperor Trajan's life), and the elder son of a prosperous family in southern Gaul. Now he's divorced, his father has died leaving behind a mountain of debt, his brief notoriety is forgotten, and Trajan is dead. He's struggling to pay off his father's debts, with his brother at home in Gaul working to keep the real state of their finances quiet so that their efforts have time to work.

      In the meantime, he's sharing a mouse-infested with another army doctor and the previous owner's former dog, who has produced a litter of puppies. They have no servant to clean and cook for them, and their lodgings show it. Ruso has spent an unpleasant night examining the body of a dead woman fished out of the harbor, and then a long day on medical rounds. He doesn't need to buy an injured slave girl to rescue her from her sadistic owner, especially when she's too injured to work, won't talk, and will cost more to feed than she's worth.

      So of course he does.
      While he's treating the girl and coaxing her to talk, he becomes not so much interested in as worried about the deaths of two bar girls, and the lack of any investigation into their deaths. He keeps hearing more than he wants to because, to get her out of the military hospital, he rents a room for the slave girl, who finally speaks enough to decide to go by the name Tilla, upstairs in the bar. Ruso starts asking questions, and things start to happen--a burning brand through the window of his house, a trowel dropped from a rooftop and missing him only because Tilla saw it and pushed him out of the way--and his financial situation gets more and more complicated. His life is further enlivened when the hospital administrator, who has been away, returns, and demands that Tilla be pledged as collateral for the large loan he's taken out from the thanksgiving fund, to help stave of bankruptcy at home.

      Ruso is cranky, impatient, and kind and generous despite himself and despite his circumstances. He keeps asking questions even when it's hurting his chances for promotion and making his working life more difficult. Tilla is proud, independent, and has every intention of killing herself rather than working as a whore in a bar (her previous owner's plan for her). As they slowly learn to trust each other, Ruso learns more about the workings of this Roman British town than he wants to know, or is safe to know.

      This is a fascinating look at Roman Britain, with engaging characters and a good mystery at the core of it. The solution manages to be both fair and unexpected. This is the first of a series, and I'll be reading more of them.

      Recommended.

      I borrowed this book from a friend.
    • 4/5


      Loved it....very entertaining. Loved Ruso and Tilla....funny and clever writing. On to the next one in the series.
    • 4/5
      I enjoy the way Ruth writes. She writes short action filled chapters that are concise and humorous. She has a welcome appreciation of history, religion, healing, and mystery. I find her approach satisfying. He characters express diversity and life.

    • 3/5
      A good historical mystery. I loved learning about Britain and Rome as the main character is a Roman but the setting is Britain.
    • 3/5
      The mystery genre seems to have become overdone lately. There is a detective for every taste and from every era in history and every country on the map. There are animals solving crimes now too or acting as the more intelligent sidekicks to their human counterparts. What makes a mystery story superior for me is that it is: 1) completely light hearted and escapist or 2) it has a caustic black humor with a a dark edge or 3) it has an unusual setting and great characterizations that supercede the actual mystery or 4) it is a rollicking great adventure story that makes up for the usually weak mystery component or 5) it is a psychologically complex and taut thriller that cannot be deduced before the end of the book.

      All that being said, I actually give "Medicus" 3 and a half stars. It falls into category 3 of my above list. Although the author seems to be setting up a mystery/detective series here ( and I have already been given the second book in the series to read), the real story is the great characters, their relationships to each other and the setting.

      The story takes place during the rule of the Roman Empire and in particular the occupation of Brittania. I confess here that the Roman Empire has only occupied a passing interest for me through the years as it has related to other things I have read or influences on other interests. The last book I read regarding the Roman Empire specifically was either "I Claudius" or "Quo Vadis" in 1977. The "detective" in this story is a doctor in the service of the army named Gaius Petreius Ruso. He has been transferred to Britannia after having served in Africa and become divorced from his wife Claudia. The first thing this information inspired in me was an appreciation for how vast this empire was and a desire to know more about it.

      The author, Downie, uses the mysteryas a device to explore the characters which are interesting. The mystery also works to introduce the relationships and the complexity of those relationships - those within the hierarchy of the Roman Legion and army and between the Roman conquerors and occupiers and those people native to the lands they conquered and occupied. The exploration goes further as the story explores the cultural and social structures of that time and place.

      Some of the themes it touches on are slavery, religion, sexual mores, medicine, magic, economics and the military. In a shirt afterword, that like my previous review of "Dodger" should have probably been a forward, the author explains that despite the excellent record keeping of the Romans, there is little information beyond the archeological, of the Roman occupation of Brittania. Therefore, she used a little research and imagination to create suppositions about the relationships and interactions that might have occurred. This stimulated my own thinking about the American Empire in the world now and the relationships between the occupiers and the occupied. As for record keeping - I guess history will display keyboard cat playing people off on You Tube and a bunch of smart alecky memes from Facebook. But I digress.

      If you like the era of the Roman Empire, you will no doubt enjoy this book. The descriptions are excellent with respect to the physical culture - architecture, dress, food etc. If you are a fan of ancient Brittania, then this book will also satisfy you as it touches lightly on Druidism and ancient paganism. The characters have depth both in and of themselves and between one another and the keys to both identities never devolve into simplistically wound up story solutions. The mystery as such, is a useful device that doesn't detract from the more interesting aspects of the story being told.

      This is a pretty quick read at 384 pages. For fast readers, a two day book. The chapters are those short 2-3 pagers so you can move along at a good clip. This is an easy book to pick up and put down. As such, it won't keep you awake all night but it holds your interest. It will also stimulate your interest in the era and maybe provide you with some thought provoking questions.
    • 3/5
      This first mystery in a series has a unique premise: a Roman doctor on duty in Britannia, solving murders. I found it slow to start yet intriguing. The pace gradually accelerated, not so much because of drama about the murders, but because of the setting and interactions around Ruso. Ruso was an okay lead, though "the curmudgeonly divorced detective who becomes more pleasant because of a good woman" trope has been done to death. He didn't feel that unique to me. I did like how Downie handled the sensitive topic of slavery within the Roman Empire. She makes Ruso a man true to his time: he has owned slaves in the past and acquires a new one in the course of the book. It's disturbing, as well it should be, but is handled within proper context.I really enjoyed the historical setting more than the actual murder mystery plot. The villains of the story are too obvious, and the ending is rather heavy-handed with how they explain their motivations. It doesn't make me that keen on continuing the series, though the first book was a pleasant enough read.
    • 3/5
      I liked this book even though the characters lacked depth. It was a light, fun read and the story was good enough that I kept reading to see what happened. It was also interesting that it took place in the Roman Empire. This is not my usual sort of book, but for some reason I just liked reading it.
    • 4/5
      A.D. 117 Divorced army doctor Ruso, has decided that Britain is the place to be and so ends up in Deva (Chester). When not working, he rescues a slave, and sometimes investigates the disappearance of two female slaves who worked in the same bar. But will he find the guilty party, or even rescue his finances.
      An enjoyable historical mystery
    • 4/5
      Interesting characters, decently done local, this tale of a new off the boat medical officer with the Roman army in Britain who almost immediately gets tangled with young slave women living and dead and maintains his professional distance at least technically. Gaius Petreius Ruso has left behind a debt ridden family and is trying to send them enough to keep their deceased father's debts from being called due. The broken-armed slave girl he purchased could be sold for a large profit and the hard-assed administrator is into him for expenses inured for her care, no one seems interested in looking into the deaths of two slaves from the same whore-house bar where he has stashed Tilla while she heals. A pretty good read which could have used a good deal of tightening up as it was getting a bit same-old same-old 2/3 of the way through although the climax pulled together nicely.
    • 2/5
      I had high hopes for this historical mystery, but unfortunately it fell flat for me. It was very slow to start. I understand that this is the first in a series, so a great deal of world building needed to be done, but I never connected to any of the characters. Between that and the, no doubt historically accurate, casual misogyny, I found myself very irritated with the narrative and just wishing it was over. It's over now and I doubt that I will continue with the series.
    • 3/5
      Medicus
      3.5 Stars

      Gaius Petrius Ruso, a medicus (doctor) with the 20th Roman Legion stationed in Britannia, finds himself investigating the deaths of two prostitutes working out of a local bar. 

      While the book is heavy on establishing the setting and developing the characters, it is light on the plot and investigation of the crimes.

      Much of the story involves the day to day activities of the main character as he treats patients at the legion hospital, and becomes involved in the lives of the people of Deva (modern day Chester) due to his inadvertent rescue of a slave girl, Tilla.

      Although the information on the Roman occupation of Britain is well-researched and interesting, and the characters are fully fleshed out and appealing, it is exactly this development and attention to detail that slows the pacing of the mystery.

      Ruso's reluctant involvement in the murder is merely a secondary consequence of his relationship with Tilla, and he more or less stumbles across the culprit without any real investigation. Nevertheless, the resolution is satisfying as everyone gets their just desserts.

      All in all, a good premise, solid writing and a likable protagonist make this a decent read. I will probably continue with the series if and when I need a book set in the Roman Empire for a challenge.
    • 4/5
      Approached with some suspicion that I woild find a cheap Falco clone, but pleased to find Ruso has his own personality and enjoyed the tale and context.
    • 1/5
      This glib tale starts by straddling between Ancient Egypt and more modern times, without introducing a basis for this odd pairing. One has found that straddling without a firm foundation can be painful; I abandoned the book before I could confirm that my experience would be repeated. Ah, well. It was free.
    • 4/5
      An interesting look at Britain when the Romans were already deeply invested in Britannia. Ruso is a medical doctor who arrives at Deva to serve with the XX Legion stationed there. He brings his problems with him, of course, and makes things worse when he intervenes in a local disturbance. He winds up treating a nearly dead slave, doing an autopsy on a dead one, and locking horns with his superiors.Quite a well drawn world, which certainly felt believable. I enjoyed the characters and hope to read more of the series.
    • 3/5
      Newly arrived in Britannia after a stint in Africa, medicus Ruso of the Roman army finds himself in increasingly difficult circumstances after he is asked to examine a woman's corpse found in the river. Ruso's questions about the woman's death lead him to a local bar/brothel, but the proprietor and the women who work there aren't forthcoming with answers. Ruso's new slave, Tilla, whom Ruso had rescued from a slave trader, proves herself useful as a source of information about the goings-on at the bar. Will Tilla's knowledge put her in danger, too? Meanwhile, Ruso has to adjust to the hospital bureaucracy in his new posting. His feckless fellow doctor, Valens, is often a hindrance rather than a help in this process.This novel didn't completely succeed as either historical fiction or a mystery. It has a Flintstones feel to it, as if a Roman dressing has been superimposed on contemporary situations and attitudes. Although Ruso asks a lot of questions, he doesn't deduce anything from them. Most of the answers to the puzzles are revealed through confession(s) by the culprit(s). I'm reading the series out of order, having started with the fourth book, so I know the series gets better. It's worth reading this one just to see Ruso try to keep a handle on Tilla and Valens.
    • 4/5
      In classic mystery form, the novel opens with a dead body. But for the first third it reads more like a literary novel and even the rest of the book is driven, not so much by suspects, investigation, danger relating to the crime, but by the character of the characters. I couldn’t put it down. If Downie can sustain the quality of writing throughout the series, I will be seriously impressed.Medicus is about a doctor in ancient Britain under the occupation of the Romans. Gaius Petreius Ruso is an army doctor, recently divorced, broke and burdened by financial obligations to his extended family, a guy whose career is held back by his honesty and integrity. He is likable and believable because he is also a man of his times, with prejudices and blind spots. His exposure to a new country, its inhabitants, and the culture of occupation is a learning experience for him.So is Tilla, the young British slave whom he buys in order to nurse back to health, a feisty herbalist and midwife who would gladly bite the hand that feeds her if it gets her back to her people and the British rebellion. To her dismay, the hand belongs to a man who is much more sympathetic than she expects.The dead body is that of a young prostitute, which raises issues that are universal in time as well as place, about sex, slavery, armies, and freedom. Although the novel takes place in ancient Britain, it is typical of the latest wave of historical novels, which give a contemporary feel to language and setting and make free with some of the facts.It worked well for this book and I was completely engaged, even though normally I’m a stickler for historical accuracy, because I was rooting for Gaius and Tilla. Highly recommended. Page 17: "Ahead of him, a chorus of excited voices rose in the street. He recognized the fat man, still shouting orders in a thick Gallic accent. The female who had collapsed had now attracted a sizable crowd. They seemed to be carrying her to the fountain. Ruso tossed the last fragments of cake to a passing dog and strode on in the direction of the amphitheater. It was nothing to do with him. He was not, at this moment, a doctor. He was a private citizen in need of some bath oil… There was a sudden gasp from around the fountain. Someone cried. “Ugh! Look at that.” A child was pawing at her mother’s arm, demanding, “What is it? I can’t see! Tell me what it is!” Russo hesitated, came to a halt, and promised himself it would only be a quick look. "
    • 4/5
      Gaius Peteius Ruso is a sad-sack doctor with a heart bigger than is convenient in this historical mystery that takes place in the Roman colony of Brittania. Burdened with family obligations he tries to make do with as little as possible to survive. He eats leftovers from his hospital, he shares a room in a building slated for demolition with another doctor, he has sold all of his good furniture, and has to forward advances on his salary back home to his brother to cover debts left by his deceased father in order to keep the farm in Gaul in his family's name. The last thing he needed was to buy a young slave with a broken arm and no housekeeping skills. Poking his nose into the death of a woman who was found in the river probably wasn't good for him either.There is a wry sense of humor in this book as we follow him through his days and learn about the life of a doctor in a Roman military outpost. The doorman was, as Priscus had claimed, quite dead. He lifted the man's shoulders, then lowered him onto the counter again and stepped away. There appeared to be more than one wound, and all were in the back. It did not look like self-defense.There were a few scenes that seemed to be anachronistic but then I realized that they just showed that some things never changed. One scene reminded me of when I was undergoing surgery with local anesthesia and a little annoyed that the staff was discussing their plans for Christmas parties while I was awake and listening. In this story, Ruso and his friend are discussing the new emperor while setting Tilla's broken arm.I liked this protagonist and will try to find more of this series.
    • 3/5
      Entertaining look at a legionary medicus in a backwater of the Roman Empire. One of the best features of the book is its insight into master/slave relationships: what were the legal limits, the social limits, etc. The mystery itself was well done and the clues were fair to the reader. Good enough to merit reading the second book in the series.
    • 4/5
      Curmudgeon & army doctor Gaius Ruso has just been stationed in Brittania, the back of beyond & far from civilization. His living quarters are filthy, his finances poor, the hospital administrator a petty tyrant, and his finances are stretched further when he rescues an injured young woman slave from an abusive owner. When young women from the local bar aka whorehouse start turning up murdered, he is reluctantly drawn by the locals into investigating it. In the meantime he grows attached to the intelligent & defiant slave woman, and she too becomes entangled in the mystery.
    • 4/5
      Medicus was well written and enjoyable. I read a lot of historical fiction but i haven't read much if anything about this time period in Britain. It was interesting to get the little snippets about the politics and daily life during this time. I also liked the medical references which seemed very advanced considering overtime most of this medical knowledge was lost and not rediscovered for centuries. I found the characters enjoyable and look forward to seeing their development in the subsequent books in this series.
    • 4/5
      A decent story but a bit anachronistic.
    • 3/5
      Although little is known about the everyday lives of Romans a couple thousand years ago, I found the attempted reconstruction too anachronistic to not jump out at me on every page. The story was somewhat entertaining outside this, given a fairly well developed protagonist, Ruso, with wry humor. Ruso's slave rescue/love interest? was a pretty flat character however. I'm not sure if I'll read the next installment.
    • 4/5
      I received Persona Non Grata by Rugh Downie as an Early Reviewer book. I liked it so much I snatched this one right up when I saw it in the bookstore. I enjoyed this first book in the series, meeting Ruso and learning how he came to own Tilla. Though there is humor, it's still serious business solving murders.
    • 2/5
      meh. good enough to finish, but I was skimming by the end. For "historical fiction" there wasn't much history. Set in Roman Britain, there was little history or period detail to latch on to. Ruso is a Roman doctor in the Legion but there wasn't much detail for either medical practice at the time, or the Army. The characters were good enough to warrant finishing the book, but if you want Roman Britain go for Simon Scarrow or Hadrian's Wall by Dietrich.
    • 5/5
      The salacious underside of Roman-occupied Britain comes to life in Britisher Downie's debut. Gaius Petrius Ruso, a military medicus (or doctor), transfers to the 20th Legion in the remote Britannia port of Deva (now Chester) to start over after a ruinous divorce and his father's death. Things go downhill from there. His quarters are filthy and vermin-filled, and his superior at the hospital is a petty tyrant. Gaius rescues and buys an injured slave girl, Tilla, from her abusive master, but she refuses to talk, can't cook and costs more to keep than he can afford. Meanwhile, young women from the local bordello keep turning up dead, and nobody is interested in investigating. Gaius becomes a reluctant detective, but his sleuthing threatens to get him killed and leaves him scant time to work on the first-aid guide he's writing to help salvage his finances. Tilla plots her escape as she recovers from her injuries, and just when Ruso becomes attached to her, she runs away, complicating his personal life and his investigation. Through it all, Ruso wonders what has become of his life. Celebrated as a hero a few years before for rescuing Emperor Trajan from an earthquake, he's now sharing a residence with a doctor of questionable morals and a flurry of seemingly indestructible mice. This is an enjoyable book with nice mixes of dark humor, historical references, and mystery. While the dialogue and parts of the story can feel anachronistic, that also serves to make the story more accessible and there is a strong enough base of historical research to offset this. The major critique would be the slowness of the development. Parts of the book can get mired in minutiae. The story plods along to the ½ way point, picks up to a jog and get truly entertaining, and thing suddenly sprints to the end for a limpid finish. A strong effort and reason for seeking out more by Downie.
    • 3/5
      Ruth Downie’s first novel is set in 2nd century Britain, and its protagonist, Gaius Petreius Ruso, is a medic in the occupying Roman army. Action centers on the deaths of two women who worked in a local brothel and on Ruso’s involvement with the attractive slave Tilla. Not that it matters too much to me, but in retrospect it’s a little difficult to fit this book neatly into any specific genre. It has crime and detection, yes, but as a mystery it isn’t particularly satisfying. It has shades of romance, but it’s hardly a bodice-ripper. And although it’s set in an historical context, it really doesn’t dwell very much on its place or time. We’re left with what the cover proclaims – “A Novel of the Roman Empire,” or general historical fiction.I don’t want anyone who reads this to think that I found this book worthless, but I think the author missed a lot of opportunities here. First, as a character study (and characters do motivate a novel) Ruso is a bit of a wimp. A moral, decent, man, he really falls into ineffectual action rather than controlling it. Second, this book really doesn’t have the sense of place that I had hoped for. We get only the vaguest idea from the text as to the physical location of the action, Deva. Only in the author’s afterword did I realize that the setting was present-day Chester, a city I know. I’ve acquired the next two books in this series and will hope that the author kept improving with experience.
    • 3/5
      Medicus is a mystery taking place in Ancient Rome (to be specific, Britannia). It features Gaius Petreius Ruso, a doctor working at the army hospital. He's i Britannia for a reason; to run away from several personal issues and to fix some (ie; family debt). Throughout the novel he's constantly plagued with a lot of misfortune and a lot of bad luck. He just happens to be at the wrong places at the wrong times. Ruso comes across and unwillingly takes a slave named Tilla who has her own plans up her sleeve (which I won't reveal, read the book!). Overall, there's been two women who were murdered and Ruso reluctantly takes the case even though he didn't want to be involved but since no one seems very interested in two dead dancing girls, someone's got to do it right?I like Ruso. Mostly because I find his misfortunes really funny and the way it's written it's as if he has a dark cloud hanging over his head for most of his days. There's comedy mixed into this mystery so it's not a heavy historical fiction. I would call it "lite" not in a negative sense, but rather, although the history is there, it's not so involved like in some historical mysteries I've read where there's heavy plotting, a lot of politics, and a lot of intrigue. Which is why Medicus makes for a good "lite" history read. I especially like the inner thoughts that run through Ruso's head. Throughout the novel, he says little tidbits in his inner voice that makes you want to snicker and laugh.He also has his friend Valens who is sort of like his sidekick/dumb friend which also adds to the comedy factor. If you place both of them together in a mouse infested dirty dwelling, you get "The Odd Couple" in Ancient Rome. It's a great laugh and a great read.Overall the characters are all right and agreeable. Except of course, the murderer but even then you don't really feel a strong hate for the character.My only criticism is, somewhere in between it does tend to slow down a bit. It could have been slightly shorter but perhaps extra plot and story was needed to tie all the strings together. I will be getting the second one in this series as I have enjoyed the first one. It's a good light read after a heavy epic.

    Book preview

    Medicus - Ruth Downie

    MEDICUS

    A Novel of the Roman Empire

    RUTH DOWNIE

    To Andy, with love

    CONTENTS

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Chapter 30

    Chapter 31

    Chapter 32

    Chapter 33

    Chapter 34

    Chapter 35

    Chapter 36

    Chapter 37

    Chapter 38

    Chapter 39

    Chapter 40

    Chapter 41

    Chapter 42

    Chapter 43

    Chapter 44

    Chapter 45

    Chapter 46

    Chapter 47

    Chapter 48

    Chapter 49

    Chapter 50

    Chapter 51

    Chapter 52

    Chapter 53

    Chapter 54

    Chapter 55

    Chapter 56

    Chapter 57

    Chapter 58

    Chapter 59

    Chapter 60

    Chapter 61

    Chapter 62

    Chapter 63

    Chapter 64

    Chapter 65

    Chapter 66

    Chapter 67

    Chapter 68

    Chapter 69

    Chapter 70

    Chapter 71

    Chapter 72

    Chapter 73

    Chapter 74

    Chapter 75

    Chapter 76

    Chapter 77

    Chapter 78

    Chapter 79

    Author’s Note

    Acknowledgments

    A Note on the Author

    Terra Incognita

    Chapter 1

    MEDICUS

    A NOVEL

    IN WHICH our hero will be …

    baffled by

    Tilla, a slave

    Merula, a bar owner

    Quintus Antonius Vindex, a recruit

    a family of native Britons

    alarmed by

    Bassus, Merula’s security guard

    Stichus, another of Merula’s security guards

    a woman with chins

    Secundus, a builder

    Elegantina, a lady wrestler

    assaulted by

    a soup bowl

    a senior centurion

    a trowel

    a fire

    amused by

    Rutilia the Elder

    Rutilia the Younger, her sister

    followed by

    a dog

    Albanus, a clerk

    a barber’s son

    surrounded by

    the Twentieth Legion, Valiant and Victorious

    patients

    women

    mice

    tempted by

    Chloe, one of Merula’s girls

    sworn at by

    Daphne, another of Merula’s girls

    avoided by

    a barber’s mother-in-law

    harangued by

    (in his memory) Claudia, his ex-wife

    (in person) a signaler’s girlfriend

    (in letters) Lucius, his brother

    annoyed by

    Valens, a colleague

    Claudius Innocens, a businessman

    Priscus, an administrator

    a civilian liaison officer

    Justinus the whistler

    a brothel-keeper on the Dock road

    ignored by

    his stepmother

    his half sisters

    informed by

    a mortuary assistant’s assistant

    Decimus, a hospital porter

    a barber

    a barber’s wife

    Lucco, Merula’s kitchen slave

    Lucius Curtius Silvanus, a slave trader

    mothered by

    Cassia, his sister-in-law

    Centurion Rutilius’s wife

    moved to sympathy by

    Saufeia, one of Merula’s girls

    Asellina, one of Merula’s girls

    the signaler

    Phryne, a slave

    Tadius, a house slave

    and ruled by

    the Emperor Trajan

    the Emperor Hadrian

    O diva…

    serves iturum Caesarem in ultimos

    orbis Britannos.

    Oh Goddess,

    safeguard Caesar as he sets off for the remotest

    regions of the Earth–Britain.

    –Horace

    1

    Someone had washed the mud off the body, but as Gaius Petreius Ruso unwrapped the sheet, there was still a distinct smell of river water. The assistant wrinkled his nose as he approached with the record tablet and the measuring stick he had been sent to fetch.

    So, said Ruso, flipping the tablet open. What’s the usual procedure here for unidentified bodies?

    The man hesitated. I don’t know, sir. The mortuary assistant’s on leave.

    So who are you?

    The assistant’s assistant, sir. The man was staring at the corpse.

    But you have attended a postmortem before?

    Without taking his eyes off the body, the man shook his head. Are they all like that, sir?

    Ruso, who had started work before it was light, stifled a yawn. Not where I come from.

    The description should come first. Facts before speculation. Except that in this case much of the description was speculation as well.

    Female, aged… He spent some time frowning over that one. Finally he settled on approximately18–25 years. Average weight. Height …five feet one inch. At least that was fairly accurate. Hair: red, scant. That too, although it might not be very helpful if no one had ever seen her before without a wig. Clothing: none found. So no help there, then.

    Three teeth missing, but not in places that were obvious. Someone would need to know her very well indeed to give a positive identification from that.

    Ruso glanced up. Did you go over to HQ for me?

    I told them we’d got a body and you’d send the details over later, sir.

    Did you ask about missing persons?

    Yes, sir. There aren’t any.

    Hm. This did not bode well. Ruso continued working his way down the body, making notes as he went. Moments later his search was rewarded. Ah. Good!

    Sir?

    Ruso pointed to what he had found. If somebody turns up looking for her in a month’s time, he explained, we’ll be able to tell them who we buried. He recorded Strawberry birthmark approximately half an inch long on inside of upper right thigh, eight inches above the knee, and sketched the shape.

    When he had completed the description, Ruso scratched one ear and gazed down at the pale figure laid out on the table. He was better acquainted than he wished to be with the dead, but this one was difficult.The water had interfered with all the signals he had learned to look for. There was no settling of the blood to indicate the position in which the body had been left, presumably because it had rolled over on the current. The limbs were flexible, so that meant … what? Men who died in the stress of battle often froze and then relaxed again much faster than was normal. So if the woman had been frightened or struggling … On the other hand, how would the aftermath of death be affected by cold water? He scratched his ear again and yawned, trying to think what he could usefully write on the report that would not cause more distress and confusion to the relatives.

    Finally he settled on Time of death: uncertain, estimated at least 2 days before discovery and gave his reasons.

    He glanced up at the assistant’s assistant again. Can you write legibly?

    Yes, sir.

    He handed the tablet and stylus across the body

    Place of death, he dictated, then corrected himself. "No, put Location of body."

    The man laid the tablet on the end of the table, hunched over it, and repeated, Location … of … body as he scraped with awkward but determined obedience.

    Found five hundred paces downstream from the pier, in marshes on the north bank, said Ruso, wishing he had carried on writing himself.

    F … found … five hundred … muttered the man, suddenly breaking off in midsentence to look up and say, She could have drowned a long way upstream and come down the river, sir. But then, she might have gone in farther along and come up on the tide.

    Pardon? Ruso blinked, taken aback by this sudden display of initiative.

    Moments later it was apparent that although this soldier knew nothing about hospital administration and very little about writing, he had devoted his spare time to learning everything there was to know about the local fishing. The assistant’s assistant’s detailed description of all possible points of waterborne departure that could end in an arrival in the marshes on the north bank of the River Dee left Ruso baffled, but one thing was clear. In a land where coastlines shifted in and out and rivers flowed backward twice a day, anything that floated could end up a very long way from where it fell into the water.

    Point of entry into water unknown, he dictated.

    The man paused. I didn’t get the bit before that, sir. Ruso repeated the location of the body. The man wiped a scrape of wax off the end of the stylus with his forefinger, flicked it away, and began to write.

    There was a bird chirping in the hospital garden and a murmur of voices. Ruso glanced out the window. On the far side of the herb beds an amputee practiced with his crutches while orderlies hovered at each elbow, ready to catch him. A soft breeze wafted in, fluttering the lamps that had been placed on slender black stands around the table, burning for the soul of the unknown figure laid out beneath them.

    The lamps lurched wildly as the door was flung open. The assistant’s assistant looked up and said, It’s not her, Decimus, but the intruder still hurried to the table to look for himself.

    Ruso frowned. Who are you?

    The man clasped both hands together and continued staring at the body.

    Have you lost someone?

    The man swallowed. No. Not like this, no, sir.

    Then you’d better leave, hadn’t you?

    The man backed toward the door. Right away, sir. Sorry to interrupt, sir. My mistake.

    Ruso followed him across the room and barred the door before turning to the assistant. Is there a missing person that HQ doesn’t know about?

    The man shook his head. Take no notice of Decimus, sir. He’s just one of the porters. He’s looking for his girlfriend.

    In the mortuary?

    She ran off with a sailor, sir. Months ago.

    Why look in here, then?

    The man shrugged. I don’t know, sir. Perhaps he’s hoping she’s come back.

    Ruso, not sure if this was an attempt at humor, tried to look the man in the eye, but the attention of the assistant’s assistant remained firmly on the writing tablet.

    Ruso looked down at the body. "Write, Cause of death."

    The stylus began to scratch again. Cause of …

    We’ll start from the head down.

    "We will start

    No, don’t write that.

    Sir?

    "Just write Cause of death. Nothing else yet."

    He frowned at the girl’s head. The fishermen who brought the body in had sworn that they had done nothing to it, but Ruso was at a loss to explain the girl’s hair. At first he had thought she was simply unfortunate. Now, on closer examination, he realized the patchy baldness was not natural. He ran one finger across the bristly scalp.

    Is this some sort of a punishment, do you think?

    Perhaps she cut it off to sell it, sir, suggested the orderly.

    This isn’t cut, this is practically shaved.

    Lice, sir? suggested the orderly, suddenly sounding hopeful. Maybe she went down to the river to wash out the lice and drowned.

    Ruso took a deep breath of fresh air before bending down and holding the lamp closer to the body.

    She didn’t drown, he said, lifting the girl’s chin with the tip of one finger. Look.

    2

    Ruso was still pondering the body in the mortuary as he walked out of the east gate of the fort. He was barely aware of his progress until he was abruptly recalled to his surroundings by a shout of Get up! from farther up the street. A man with a large belly was glaring at a grimy figure lying across the pavement just past the fruit stall. A woman with a shopping basket put down the pear she was examining and turned to see what was going on.

    The man repeated the order to Get up! The woman stared down at the figure and began to babble in some British dialect. The only word Ruso could make out was water.

    Burn some feathers under her nose, suggested the stallholder, bending down to retrieve a couple of apples that had tumbled off the edge of his display.

    Ruso veered into the street to avoid the commotion and narrowly missed a pile of animal droppings. He frowned. He must try and concentrate on what he was doing. He had come out for a walk because he was unable to sleep. Now that he was walking, he was having trouble staying awake.

    At the open shutters of Merula’s he ordered the large cup of good wine he had been promising himself for days. When it came it was nothing like the Falernian it was supposed to resemble. He scowled into its clear depths. At that price and in this place, he supposed it was as good as could be expected. In other words, not very good at all.

    The doorman watched as he drained the wine without bothering to add any water, and asked him if he would like to meet a pretty girl.

    Not before I’ve been to the baths, Ruso grunted. Are you still serving those oysters?

    Not today, sir.

    Good.

    I’m sorry, sir … ?

    So you should be.

    Ruso wondered whether to explain that a dish of Merula’s marinated oysters was the indirect cause of his present unkempt state and uncertain temper. He decided not to bother.

    Yesterday, strapping a poultice around the foot of a groom trampled by his horse, he had composed an imaginary notice for the hospital entrance.

    "To all members of XX Legion Valeria Victrix. While the chief medic is on leave, this hospital has three officers. The administrative officer has gone shopping in Viroconium and taken his keys with him. One doctor has severe food poisoning. The other is doing his best, despite having no idea what’s going on because he has no time to attend morning briefings. Until reinforcements arrive, nonurgent cases and injuries resulting from drunkenness, stupidity, or arguments with drill instructors will not be treated."

    Before the sun had fully risen today he had been presented with a seized back, a dislocated elbow, three teeth in the hand of a man who wanted them replaced, and the body. When he pointed out that the body was beyond his help, he was told that they didn’t know what else to do with it.

    Mercifully Valens–a paler and thinner version of the Valens who had eaten the oysters–had reported for duty this afternoon. Peering at Ruso, he’d announced, You look worse than I do. Go and get some rest. Ruso, who had been desperate to sleep for the past three days, suddenly found himself unable to settle down.

    A group of youths with army haircuts was sauntering across the street toward Merula’s. As they entered Ruso murmured, Don’t touch the seafood. He was gone before they could reply.

    Passing the bakery, he realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He bought a honey cake and crumbled it against the roof of his mouth as he walked along.

    Ahead of him, a chorus of excited voices rose in the street. He recognized the fat man, still shouting orders in a thick Gallic accent. The female who had collapsed had now attracted a sizeable crowd. They seemed to be carrying her to the fountain. Ruso tossed the last fragments of cake to a passing dog and strode on in the direction of the amphitheater. It was nothing to do with him. He was not, at this moment, a doctor. He was a private citizen in need of some bath oil.

    He took a deep breath before diving into the perfumed dusk of the oil shop. He had placed his flask on the counter and was naming what he wanted when the shopkeeper’s attention was caught by something behind him. The man snatched up a heavy stick and leaped out from behind the counter, yelling, Clear off! The dog that had finished Ruso’s cake shot out from behind a stack of jars and scuttled off down the street.

    The shopkeeper replaced the stick under the counter. Somebody ought to do something about those dogs.

    Are they dangerous?

    Only when they bite. Now, what was it you were after?

    Outside, half a dozen pairs of hands were dragging a limp body along the pavement to where the fountain, a large and ugly stone fish, was spewing water into a long rectangular tank.

    The shopkeeper glanced up from the jug he was pouring. Something’s going on over there.

    Ruso heard a splash as he said, A woman fainted in the street.

    Oh. The man twisted the stopper into the flask and wiped the side with a cloth. Ruso handed over a sestertius. As the man counted out the change, more people began crowding around the fountain. Voices drifted across the street.

    Get up, you lazy whore!

    Give her another dunk!

    If you burn some feathers–

    Stand her up!

    Lie her down!

    Lie her down? She does nothing but lie down!

    Ruso dropped the coins into his purse and emerged into the fresh air.

    He was not going to offer to help. He had been caught like that before.

    Poor people, like stray dogs, bred huge litters they couldn’t look after and latched on to you with the slightest sign of encouragement. As soon as the whisper went around that some doctor was treating people for free, every case of rotten teeth and rheumatism within a thousand feet would be rounded up and thrust under his nose for inspection. He would be lucky to get away before nightfall.

    A voice whispered in his memory–a voice he hadn’t heard for almost two years now–a voice accusing him of being cold-hearted and arrogant. He silenced it, as he usually did, by recalling other voices. The Tribune’s praise of his commendable single-mindedness (of course Valens had to ruin it later by explaining, He meant you’re boring). Or the officer’s wife who had smiled at him over her sprained ankle and said, You’re really quite sweet, Petreius Ruso, aren’t you? That memory would have been more comforting, though, if she hadn’t been caught in the bed of the chief centurion a week later and been sent back to Rome in disgrace.

    Raising his fingers to sniff the smear of perfumed oil, Gaius Petreius Ruso headed back the way he had come.

    The sharp crack of a hand on flesh rang down the street.

    On your feet! Move!

    A pause.

    Throw some more water on her.

    A splash. A cry of, Hey, mind my new shoes!

    Laughter.

    Ruso pursed his lips. He should have stayed up at the fort. He could have helped himself to some of Valens’s oil and used the hospital baths.

    Now he would sit in the steam room wondering what had happened to the wretched woman, even though he wasn’t responsible for it.

    Wake up, gorgeous!

    More laughter.

    If he managed to revive her, those comedians would take the credit.

    Turn her over!

    If he didn’t, he would get the blame.

    There was a sudden gasp from around the fountain. Someone cried, Ugh! Look at that!

    A child was pawing at her mother’s arm, demanding, "What is it?

    I can’t see! Tell me what it is!"

    Ruso hesitated, came to a halt, and promised himself it would only be a quick look.

    The military belt was an accessory with magical powers. Several of the onlookers disappeared as soon as it approached. The rest parted to let its wearer through, and Ruso found himself staring down at his second unfortunate female today. This one was a skinny figure lying in a puddle by the fountain. She was still breathing, but she was a mess. The rough gray tunic that covered her was the same color as the bruise under one eye. Blood was oozing from her lower lip and forming a thin red line in the water that still trickled down her face. Her hair was matted and mud-colored. She could have been any age between fifteen and thirty.

    We’re giving this girl some water, sir, explained someone with an impressive grasp of understatement.

    She’s fainted, added someone else.

    She always faints when there’s work to be done, grumbled the man who had been shouting at her. He bent as far down as his belly would allow and yelled in the girl’s ear, Get up!

    She can’t hear you, remarked Ruso evenly. His gaze took in the copper slave band around the girl’s upper right arm. Below the elbow, the arm vanished into a swathe of grimy rags. The pale hand emerging at the other end was what had silenced the crowd. It was sticking out at a grotesque and impossible angle. Ruso frowned, unconsciously fingering his own forearm. What happened to her arm?

    It wasn’t us! assured a voice in the crowd. We was only trying to help!

    The grumbler turned his head to one side and spat. Silly bitch fell down the steps.

    "Fell down the steps, sir," corrected Ruso, restraining an urge to seize the man by the ear.

    Yes, sir. Didn’t look where she was going, sir.

    It should have been set right away.

    Yes, sir.

    Get it done.

    On my way now, sir.

    The girl groaned. The man grabbed her good arm and hauled her to her feet. She fell against him. Caught off balance, he struggled to stay upright.

    Ruso was uncomfortably aware that he was now at the center of this entertainment. Whatever he did, he must not admit to being a doctor. Nor did he intend to waste his afternoon being soaked and muddied by dragging a sick slave around.

    You there! He pointed to a greasy-haired youth who was lolling against a wall trying to dislodge something from his ear with his forefinger. Yes, you! Give him a hand.

    The youth withdrew the finger, opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He slid a reluctant hand under the girl’s good arm. He and the girl’s owner began to drag the limp body along the pavement.

    Ruso scowled at the crowd, which began to disperse.

    The fort’s the other way! he shouted after the owner.

    No reply.

    He overtook them, blocking the path. The trio paused. The girl slumped lower.

    She needs to go to the fort hospital. Now.

    Yes, sir, agreed the owner. But the thing is, sir …

    The thing was that he was short of cash. The girl’s last owner had driven away with a cartload of his best-quality woolens and palmed a slave off on him who was lazy and useless. Now she had gone and broken her arm and he couldn’t even sell her. A harder man would have thrown her out into the street, but everyone knew Claudius Innocens was a man too soft for his own good. He knew the hospital at the fort had an excellent reputation–Get on with it! prompted Ruso–but it was too expensive for a poor trader. He had heard there was a good healer on the Bridge road. He was going there now.

    I just have to do a little business on the way, sir, he added. So I can pay for the treatment.

    Ruso had only been stationed in Deva for four days, but already he knew that the local healer wouldn’t be able to do anything with that arm. He said nothing. It was not his problem. He had only come out for a drink and a flask of bath oil. The girl’s face was horribly pale: she probably didn’t have long left anyway. The healer would have henbane, or mandrake. Perhaps some imported poppy juice.

    Ruso glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then undid his purse and placed two sestertii into the hand of Claudius Innocens. Take her there now, he ordered. Buy her a dose of something for the pain.

    You’re a kindhearted man, sir! Innocens’s jowls bulged outward in a smile that failed to affect his eyes. Not a lot of gentlemen would see a poor man in need and–

    See to it! snapped Ruso, and walked away, checking that his oil flask was still tied to his belt and had not been subtly removed by someone in the crowd. He was not feeling like a kindhearted man. He was a man who was deeply exasperated. He was a man who needed a good night’s sleep. And before that, he needed a trip to the baths.

    In a few minutes, stretched out on a warm couch with a soft towel beneath him, he would forget the merchant’s slimy gratitude and the grisly shape of his slave girl’s arm. He would forget the screams of the recruit this morning as his arm was put back into its socket. Distracted by the splash of the cold plunge and the murmur of gossip, his thoughts would drift away from the puzzle of that unknown woman lying in the mortuary. The perfumed oil would clear the stench of decay from his nostrils. The masseur’s practiced hands would pummel away the tension of problems, which, when he thought about them logically, all belonged to other people.

    There was no sign of the young soldiers at the tables in Merula’s. The doorman pretended not to recognize Ruso. He must have overheard the warning about the food.

    An elderly slave was limping past the place where the girl had collapsed. The stink of the two buckets swaying on the pole over his shoulders was unmistakable. The man stopped to scrape up the pile of dung Ruso had almost trodden in earlier.

    Half the world, decided Ruso, raising his fingers to his nose again, spent its waking hours engaged in cleaning up the mess made by the other half. That girl’s owner, like whoever had dumped that corpse in the river, had been a mess maker. Not fit to be in charge of a dead dog. That disgusting bandage had been on her arm for days.

    Ruso stopped so suddenly that a child running along behind him collided with the back of his legs, tumbled full-length on the paving stones, and, refusing his offer of help, ran off howling for his mother.

    That girl hadn’t fallen down any steps. She had raised her arm to shield herself from the blows that had blackened her eye. The wool trader would pocket the money and leave town, and before long another unclaimed body would be found floating down the river. Gaius Petreius Ruso had just been swindled out of two sestertii.

    It did not take long to find the unattractive trio again. The wet trail led away from the fountain and down a side street, weaving unsteadily around the legs of scaffolding poles. The scrape and slop of shovels mixing mortar announced yet another row of new shops. Ruso strode around the far side of the building site, entered the street from the opposite end, picked his way down past a burned-out building awaiting demolition, and came face-to-face with the shuffling threesome.

    The Bridge road is the other way! he shouted over a sudden burst of hammering, stabbing his forefinger in the direction from which they had just come.

    The girl opened her eyes and looked at him.

    She couldn’t see him, of course. It was an illusion. The eyes were blank; like the eyes of a sleepwalker. For the first time Ruso noticed the delicate shape of her nose, the tiny dimple in an earlobe where jewelry had once hung. And those eyes. The color of–what were they the color of? Like … like the clear deep waters of… Ruso’s tired mind groped for a description that didn’t sound like the work of a bad poet, and failed to find one.

    The merchant was still talking. The youth was examining the toe straps of his sandals. Only Ruso seemed to be interested in the girl.

    If you don’t get help for her soon, this slave is going to die.

    He realized it was a mistake as soon as he had said it. The trader bent forward and dragged down the girl’s lower eyelid with a dirty thumb.

    Then he forced her jaw open and peered into her mouth. He was clearly not a man to waste two sestertii on dying livestock.

    It’s not the state of her teeth you need to worry about.

    Innocens turned and looked at him curiously You wouldn’t be a medical man yourself, by any chance, sir?

    Ruso glanced up, wishing he believed in the sort of theatrical gods who swooped down from the heavens at difficult moments and set humanity to rights. But the gods, if they were watching, were hiding in the gray British clouds beyond the scaffolding poles, leaving him to his fate. And then, as if inspired by something beyond himself, Ruso had an idea.

    You said she isn’t worth anything.

    Innocens paused. Well, not the way she is, sir. After she’s been cleaned up-

    I’ll take her off your hands.

    She’s a good strong girl, sir. She’ll perk up in a day or two. I’ll knock a bit off the price for that arm.

    What price? You told me she was lazy and useless.

    Useless at cleaning, sir, but an excellent cook. And what’s more …–

    Innocens raised his free arm to steady the girl as he leaned forward in a haze of fish sauce and bellowed over more hammering–just the thing for a healthy young man like yourself, sir! Ripe as a peach and never been touched!

    I’m not interested in touching her! shouted Ruso, just as the noise stopped.

    Someone sniggered. Ruso looked up. A couple of men were leaning down over the scaffolding. One of them said something to the other and they both laughed. The youth holding the girl glanced up and grinned.

    It would be all over the fort by morning.

    You know that new doctor up at the hospital? The one that’s been telling the boys to stay out of whorehouses?

    What about him?

    Hangs around back streets. Tries to buy women.

    Innocens was smiling again. Ruso suppressed an urge to grab him by the neck and shake him.

    What would you like to offer, sir?

    Ruso hesitated. I’ll give you fifty denarii, he muttered.

    Innocens’s jowls collapsed in disappointment. He shrugged the shoulder not being used to prop up his merchandise. I wish I could, sir. I can hardly afford to feed her. But the debt I took her for was four thousand.

    It was a ridiculous lie. Even if it wasn’t, Ruso didn’t have four thousand denarii. He didn’t even have four hundred. It had been an expensive summer.

    Fifty’s more than she’s worth, and you know it, he insisted. Look at her.

    Fifty-five! offered a voice from the scaffolding.

    What? put in his companion. You heard the man, she’s a virgin. Fifty-six!

    Innocens scowled at them. One thousand and she’s yours, sir.

    Fifty or nothing.

    The trader shook his head, unable to believe that any fool would offer all his money at the first bid. Ruso, remembering with’ a jolt that payday was still three weeks away, was barely able to believe it himself. He should have put some water in that wine.

    Two hundred, sir. I can’t go below two hundred. You’ll ruin me.

    Go on! urged the chorus from the scaffolding. Two hundred for this lovely lady!

    Ruso looked up at the workmen. Buy her yourselves if you like. I only came out for a bottle of bath oil.

    At that moment the girl’s body jerked. A feeble cough emerged from her lips. Her eyelids drifted shut. A slow silver drool emerged from her mouth and came to rest in shining bubbles on the sodden wool of her tunic. Claudius Innocens cleared his throat.

    Will that fifty be cash, then, sir?

    3

    What are you doing in here?

    Ruso opened one eye and wondered briefly why he was being addressed by a giant inkwell. Opening the other eye to find himself in fading light and surrounded by shelves, he realized he must have fallen asleep in the records office. He hauled himself upright on the stool and yawned. Catching up on some notes. How are you feeling?

    Valens grinned. Better than that thing in Room Twelve. It looks as if it’s just crawled out of the sewer. What is it?

    Ruso reached for the writing tablet before Valens could make out: Female, history unknown, fracture to lower right arm, pale, dry cough, weak, no fever. Note: Launder bedding, treat with fleabane. He snapped it shut and slid it into the Current Patients box.

    That thing is a sick slave with a broken arm.

    Whose?

    Her own.

    Very funny. Whose slave?

    Ruso scratched his ear. Couldn’t say, really. He had entertained a faint hope that his purchase might be claimed by the lovesick porter and taken off his hands, but the man had not recognized her.

    I leave you on your own for a couple of days, said Valens, and you fill the place with expiring females.

    A couple of fishermen found the other one already expired. The town council clerk wouldn’t let them dump her outside his office and they couldn’t think what else to do with her.

    Valens shrugged. Of course. We’re the army, we’ll deal with everything. If somebody doesn’t identify her soon, I suppose we’ll have to bury her too. So who said her friend could die in one of our beds?

    She isn’t dying, argued Ruso, seizing the chance to side step the question of who had brought her in.

    That’s not what I heard. She on your list?

    He nodded.

    No hope for her, then. Valens glanced out into the corridor, pushed the door shut, and lowered his voice. Five says she’ll be dead by sunrise.

    Ruso pondered this for a moment. Payday seemed farther away now than when he had foolishly offered all his remaining cash for a slave he didn’t want. If he could just keep her alive until tomorrow, he would salvage some of his dignity and come out of it with money in his purse.

    She isn’t dying, he repeated with more confidence than he felt.

    Five says she’s alive when they blow first watch.

    If she were a dog, you’d knock her on the head now.

    Well she isn’t, and I shan’t. So push off and find some patients of your own to annoy.

    The hollow cheeks of the patient in Room Twelve looked distinctly yellow against the white of the blanket that had been draped over her. The injured arm, secured across her chest in a crisp linen sling, rose and fell gently with each breath. The drugged drink had done its work. She was asleep. Her doctor placed a cup of barley water on the table beside the bed and went to the shrine of Aesculapius.

    The hospital entrance hall was empty save for a smell of fresh paint and roses. Aesculapius leaned on his stick and looked out from his niche with a quiet dignity that somehow transcended the inscription WET PAINT chalked underneath him. The god of healing needed more maintenance than most of his colleagues: The touch of his eager supplicants tended to damage his paint. Today the faithful had left a bunch of white roses and a couple of apples at his feet, hoping to be saved from their ailments. Or, more likely, from their doctor.

    Usually Ruso spared the deity no more than a passing nod. Now he paused to stand in front of the niche and murmur a promise of two and a half denarii should the girl in Room Twelve survive until morning.

    Having thus enlisted extra help for the cost of only half his winnings, and with nothing to pay if the god failed to perform, Ruso headed back to Room Twelve to see what more could be done to improve his chance of winning this unexpected and probably illegal wager.

    4

    Are you sure he’s–dead? asked Ruso, the words punctuated by grunts as he struggled to maneuver his end of the stretcher through the door.

    Positive, sir, said the surgical orderly, deftly kicking the door shut behind him. The man who told me heard it from someone who got it from one of the kitchen staff in the legate’s house. It’ll be announced at parade this morning.

    How do the kitchen staff know?

    The dispatch rider popped by for something to eat while the legate read through the message, sir.

    Ruso suppressed a smile. I suppose you know the cause of death?

    Not sure yet, sir. All we know is, he had a funny turn on the way back from sorting the Parthians out.

    They lowered the stretcher onto the table. Do we know who’s taken over? asked Ruso, sliding out one of the carrying poles.

    The army are backing Publius Aelius Hadrianus, sir. The orderly slid out the other pole and stacked them both in the corner. I’m told he’s a very generous man when it comes to bonuses. Double the going rate is what I hear.

    Does anybody know what the going rate is? asked Ruso. Half the army wasn’t even born when Trajan took over, let alone on the payroll.

    Hard to say, sir, said the orderly, but in nineteen years it’s bound to have gone up, isn’t it? He bent over the table. Just lie on your left, now. As they rolled the girl first to one side of the table and then the other, slipping the stretcher sheet out from beneath her, he observed, Nothing of her, is there?

    When they had settled the girl, the man hurried out to refill the water bucket, complaining that someone else should have refilled it the previous night. You can tell Priscus isn’t here.

    Ruso waited, hearing distant voices. The clump of boots on floorboards in the corridors. The usual clatter from the kitchen. Window shutters crashing open to let in the new day. A day the anonymous girl in the mortuary would never see. Ruso, who did not like to inquire too deeply into matters of religion, wondered vaguely if she and Trajan would meet each other on the voyage into the shadowy world of the departed. He eyed the girl lying on the table in front of him. It might have been kinder to let her join them.

    Laid out under a crumpled linen gown that smelled faintly of lavender, she looked smaller than she’d appeared to him yesterday And younger. He wondered how old she was. She must have a name, a tribe, a language. The trader had been yelling at her in Latin but the words she had mumbled as the poppy juice carried her into oblivion sounded British.

    That was the only time he had heard her speak. When he had put his head around the door of Room Twelve just after dawn and said, ’Morning! Did you sleep well?–She was alive! He must go and tell Valens–she had looked at him with those eyes that were the color of–well, whatever it was–as if she did not understand the question.

    The eyes were open again now. The pupils had been shrunk to small black dots by the medicine he had given her. She was staring

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