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Perhaps he was beginning to lose the undercurrent of dread that inspired his coming to Flautens’ villa. “You raise hogs, sheep, horses, and donkeys. And mules, of course.”
Flautens nodded. “Also timber: oak, larch, and pine. In addition, the hogs eat the acorns, and we get nuts from the pine. And I have two stands of hives.” He drank again. “All in all, this land produces well for me. I would not like to lose it.”
“Are you making any plans to defend it on your own?” He reached for more cheese. “Do you think you might hire fighting men to guard your stock and crops?”
“It may come to that, I fear.” He snorted in dissatisfaction and drank more deeply. “I am sending my wife and children to Aquileia with a Roman noblewoman bound there from Porolissum. I met with her two days ago, at the Triceum Fortress, to make our arrangements. No doubt you will enjoy meeting her. She has a company of forty- seven servants and household with her, including armed men, and in exchange for six mules, she has agreed to include my family in her company.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I will be pleased to know they’re safe.”
“Aquileia,” said Sergios. “A fine place. I hope your family will be happy there.”
“They will be gone for some months, I fear.”
“But they won’t be alone, will they?” Sergios asked.
“I have a cousin whom I am asking to receive them,” said Flautens. “He has dealt with many of our relatives and we are all grateful to him. He can arrange for my family to establish themselves in a villa until I can join them.”
“Very good,” said Sergios, and signaled for more wine. “I will do my utmost to keep you informed of anything having to do with Aquileia.”
“I will appreciate that,” said Flautens, and leaned back on his couch. “How long do you think the Constantinopolitans will be in Drobetae?”
“Three or four days—t hat’s as long as they’ve stayed in the past.”
“Do you intend to meet with them at all?” Flautens watched his slave fill Sergios’ cup again.
“On the last day, so I may offer them a report that will be useful to them; I will be able to say that I have been gathering more immediate information for them.” He made a gesture that might have been intended to show how clever his intention was. “If I had more rank, I would have a clerk present the report. Since I’m a freeman, I need to be as accommodating as possible, and to put myself at the service of the Byzantines in the most obvious way possible.”
“So you’ll stay out of the town while the Byzantines are gathering their information, will you?”
“Until the last day.” He drank again, his manner more at ease. “They will have less opportunity to judge me, and that is a wise precaution for me to take, given how much we have to contend with. I want to give them little occasion to find fault with what I have done. For all I know, they’ll want to put one of their own in my place. It has happened in other towns.”
“Do you know the inspectors?” Flautens did not change his posture or his demeanor, but his eyes grew brighter as he slipped a small plate from under his couch and felt for what it held.
“Possibly,” said Sergios. “They usually send one man who has made the journey before, so that there will be someone who can compare the present circumstances to past conditions.”
“Do you think this person will remember you?” He took a preserved fruit, popped it into his mouth, then held out a shallow bowl of the delicacies to Sergios. “Have some. They’re preserved in honey.” To emphasize how tasty the fruit was, he smacked his lips as he finished eating one of the dark fruits.
“Thank you,” said Sergios, helping himself to two of the fruits, and drinking more wine. “Very good—more tart than sweet.” His face flushed to a mottled red, and he gave a little flurry of dry, hacking coughs. “Very good. In fact, delicious.”
Flautens watched Sergios with mild concern. “Are