Read Six for Gold for Free Online Page B

observed. “Feel free to have as much as you like. Perhaps it will bring you back to your senses, inspire your muse, and banish these gloomy legal pretenses.”
    Francio, Anatolius, and Thomas sat at one end of the polished marble table in Francio’s dining room. The garden beyond seemed to extend inside through opened doors onto walls lushly decorated with coiling vines, exotic flowers, fruits, beasts, and birds, some recognizable—bears, swans, peacocks—and others whose native land lay only in the artist’s imagination. They could never grace Francio’s plate.
    Their riot of colors was repeated in Francio’s short, blue dalmatic with green trim over a long yellow tunic, the ensemble set off by green boots.
    Anatolius took another gulp. “I’m trying to wash away the taste of John’s fine stock.”
    Francio laughed. “I’d forgotten. A lover of wine might say your friend is as abstemious as Justinian. The poor stuff John prefers for his cup isn’t worth drinking.”
    “The wines of my native land are far superior,” put in Thomas.
    “I didn’t know there were vineyards in Bretania,” said Francio with interest.
    Thomas looked askance. “You haven’t heard of them? I am amazed their fame has not traveled this far!”
    “What splendid tales this fellow tells,” Francio remarked to Anatolius. “A veritable rustic Homer! I’m considering abandoning Trimalchio’s feast for a banquet based on the sort of meals eaten in this court Thomas has described to me.”
    He frowned. “We shouldn’t be so jovial, considering the Lord Chamberlain’s predicament,” he went on. “However, as things stand the further away from Constantinople he is, the less danger he’s in, except perhaps for running the risk of dying of boredom so far from beauty and culture.”
    Servants padded in and out the room so quietly and inconspicuously that the bowls they brought might have appeared before the diners by magick.
    To Anatolius the salad seemed bitter. Its greens bore a suspicious resemblance to the broad-leafed weeds that proliferated in the neglected gardens near the palace administrative offices. He didn’t know their names. No doubt Hypatia could identify them immediately. Perhaps he would ask her.
    Francio announced the main course. “I’d hoped to serve lobster, but my supplier ran afoul of the authorities. Instead, we have a special treat. It’s what I call Harbor Chicken in Poseidon’s Special Sauce.”
    He signaled to an attendant, who removed the salad and set heaped plates before the diners.
    Anatolius contemplated his meal. It resembled a coin pouch swimming in pungent sauce.
    “It’s boiled gull,” he accused.
    “Well, if you must be so crude…” Francio was hurt. “Do you know how hard it is to keep a respectable table these days?”
    Indeed it was, Anatolius thought, when a self-confessed epicure offered his guests noxious weeds and seabirds drowned in garum sauce.
    Thomas attacked the repast with gusto.
    “You and Thomas appear to be getting along well,” Anatolius ventured.
    “I feel fortunate to have him as a guest. He’s already given me several banquets’ worth of excellent anecdotes. You know how it is at court, a good story can be more valuable than gold. My servant Vedrix is getting jealous.” Francio inclined his head toward the young wine server stationed at the door and added in a whisper, “He thinks Thomas is competing with him for my affections.”
    Anatolius glanced at the servant. He was a dark, sturdy, sullen fellow outfitted in classical style, resembling a young man who had stepped out from the painting on an ancient Greek vase.
    Thomas dropped his heavy silver knife and wiped his rust-colored beard with the back of his hand.
    Anatolius decided it was time to question Thomas again. “Could we speak in confidence? Could Vedrix leave the room?”
    Francio instructed the man to do so and then turned to Anatolius. “My servants are very discreet, but I always humor my