Six for Gold by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer Page B

foolish, he stuck his head around the tavern door and peered in.
    The cramped room was dim. Felix was talking to someone whose back Anatolius did not recognize at a table set against the rear wall.
    Why shouldn’t Felix meet a friend for a cup of wine?
    Even so, given Felix’s recent odd behavior, Anatolius was prepared to think the worst. He crossed the street and went under the marble archway into the lavatory. From inside, framed by the arch’s bas-reliefs of Greek gods, he could observe the tavern without being noticed.
    Or so he hoped.
    The smell made him gag. A glance at the state of the floor showed the facility hadn’t been cleaned recently—not to mention that he would have to burn his footwear when he returned to John’s house. Public services were vanishing even faster than the public. He wasn’t surprised the long, communal marble bench boasted only a single customer, seated at the far end. The man, slumped forward, ignored him.
    Anatolius fixed his gaze on the tavern and its peeling plaster exterior. Flies droned. Time passed. More flies appeared, adding their complaints to the others clustering around the malodorous facility. He began to think if Zeus turned an ear toward the earth, all that god would hear from the capital would be a buzzing akin to that of a gigantic insect.
    The man at the far end of the bench still hadn’t moved a muscle. Anatolius now realized he was dead. The morbid notion came to him that urchins had found a corpse in the street and sat it there as a macabre jest.
    He almost missed Felix’s companion emerging from the tavern. All he could make out was the man’s retreating back.
    He briefly considered following from sheer curiosity, but it was the captain of excubitors to whom he needed to talk. Thankful to be able to leave his temporary shelter, he went into the murky tavern, and sat down next to Felix who looked up, startled, from his wine cup.
    “Something smells…” Felix’s gaze moved to Anatolius’ feet.
    “I plan on burning my boots, Felix, but something else will still offend my nostrils. What have you been doing about helping John? Why have you been avoiding me?”
    “You must have followed me here. Is that what a friend does?” Felix sounded hurt. His words were slurred. Anatolius realized his companion was intoxicated.
    The portly owner of the establishment waddled toward them. Anatolius put him to flight with a baleful glare that conveyed the clear message: “Observe my elaborate robes. I am from the palace and that means trouble if you interfere!”
    “Are you in some sort of difficulty, Felix?”
    The captain stared over Anatolius’ shoulder for a short time as if considering the question, then slammed his cup down, splashing wine on the scantily clad women dancing lewdly in the fresco beside them.
    “That’s it, Anatolius!” he roared. “I know what you’re going to complain about. You’re going to complain that I’ve taken up gambling again even though it’s my business, not yours! Not to mention just a small wager now and then doesn’t hurt anyone…”
    “I was going to say you’re intoxicated—”
    “Now there you’re totally wrong! Totally! Totally, totally wrong…”
    Anatolius decided Felix could not possibly have got so inebriated in the short time he’d been inside the tavern. He must have begun drinking not long after he rolled out of bed.
    “Who was that man who just left? Someone you’ve been placing bets with, I’ll wager!”
    A huge grin parted Felix’s unkempt beard. “You’ll wager? You criticize me for betting, but you’ll wager?” He started to laugh.
    “Proprietor!” he yelled. “Listen to this jest! The gentleman here questions my wagering yet he bets himself! Did you ever hear anything more comical?”
    “Yes, I have,” replied the man from the other end of the tavern. “Mostly concerning the empress!”
    Anatolius waited for the captain’s mirth to subside. “Felix, you can’t become involved in