Buried Too Deep by Jane Finnis

upset.
    “I ought to have paid more attention to those broken ribs. Perhaps I should have opened up his chest to see what was wrong.”
    Phokas spoke up. “Master, that would have killed him for sure. He had a wound full of poison, and he was as hot as a furnace. He wouldn’t have had the strength for that kind of surgery.”
    The apprentice was talking very good sense, and Timaeus seemed comforted. “I suppose not. Once the four humours get too far out of balance…”
    “Try not to feel badly.” I cut him short, not being in the mood for a medical lecture on the four humours. “You know my father was an army man. He told me what the military doctors say about medicine. I expect you’ve heard it?”
    He shook his head. “Some hoary old saying of Julius Caesar, is it?”
    “I shouldn’t be surprised. ‘Patients are like battles, you win some and you lose some. Just make sure you win more than you lose.’”
    He smiled faintly. “You’re right, Aurelia. I shouldn’t let it upset me.”
    “I’m always right. It’s a well-known fact. Now why not do as Phokas suggests, come to the mansio and we’ll find you something to eat and drink. You look as if you need it.”
    As Timaeus and I walked out into the dawn, I felt my spirits lift in spite of everything. It’s my favourite time of day, when the rising sun makes all the world seem fresh and clean.
    But the doctor’s mind was still on his patient. “I wonder how he came by those injuries. Obviously he’d been in a scrap, which is no big surprise, those young natives are always getting into fights. Not usually with swords though. Fists and cudgels, that’s more their style.”
    “He mentioned the pirates, and some sort of threat to the small farmers. You heard it all, presumably?”
    He nodded. “The wold country’s so peaceful as a rule. But you know, I treated three more natives from near the coast yesterday, all fit enough to go home and not stay here the night. Three in one day—and normally I don’t see three weapon-wounds in a month.”
    “I saw one of them, Bodvocus’ man Coriu.”
    “Yes, his arm was broken, by an axe he said. Considering everything it wasn’t too bad. Both of the others said they’d had accidents with tools in the fields, but both had sword wounds, I’d stake my reputation on it.”
    We’d reached the mansio, and he turned aside to head for the kitchen door at the back of the main building.
    I stopped. “You go in and get breakfast, don’t wait for me. Tell Margarita I’ll be in soon, but first I’m going to get properly dressed for the day. By the way, that lad of yours is turning out pretty well, isn’t he? How long have you had him now?”
    “I bought him last June, so not even a year yet. I’m very pleased with him, though it doesn’t do to say so every hour, or else he’ll get too cocky. He’s learning fast, and he’s got a sensible calm head on his shoulders, which is half the battle in my trade. I’ve promised him his freedom as soon as he’s competent to treat simple cases without me, so he’s taking every chance he can to learn.” He smiled. “I was the same at his age.”
    I stood a little while in the fresh air, mentally listing the various practical tasks for the morning. Another note for Lucius was top of my list. Next, I must make sure Timaeus remembered to send for one of the temple priests from Oak Bridges to perform the cleansing rituals needed to purify the room where Belinus had died. Though he denied that the gods had much influence on his patients’ well-being, he still couldn’t afford to take chances where divine favour was concerned. After that I must make arrangements to send Belinus’ body home to his family. As one of my brother’s informers, it was the least he deserved, and I ought to write to his widow—Illiana, was it? And of course there were the usual chores of the day, because at a mansio life goes on, even with death close by.
    Gloom settled over me as I considered