The Curse-Maker by Kelli Stanley Read Free Book Online Page A

my leg. I took a deep breath, changed the subject. “What’s this I hear about a haunted mine?”
    I was unprepared for the effect. Grattius turned red. Marcius woke up, and so did Vitellius. Octavio opened his mouth like a gasping fish.
    Philo chuckled. “Stories always float around this town. Product of the atmosphere. Some people don’t go to doctors, Arcturus. They put their trust in magicians and soothsayers—people like Bibax—instead.”
    Marcius growled again. “Wickedness!”
    The whole party laughed. I turned my head to look at Gwyna. She was staring straight ahead, thinking.
    *   *   *
    The party broke up soon afterward, and Grattius insisted we use his litter.
    â€œYou don’t want your pretty little wife to get her sandals muddy, do you, eh, Arcturus?” He elbowed me in the ribs. I thought I heard a dormouse squeal.
    Philo cornered me as everyone made their good-bye. “Come see me tomorrow. We can talk more freely. I’m across the street from the east end of the temple.”
    He stared at Gwyna, who was saying good-bye to Sulpicia as if they were long-lost sisters. “How long has she been ill?” he murmured.
    I tried to keep my face in place, but I felt it slip for a second. “Why do you say she’s been ill?”
    He smiled. “I am a doctor, Arcturus. The eyes. The skin. The way she carries herself. She’s a beautiful woman, and I’d be protective of her, too.” He patted me on the back. “The waters really will help.”
    I was confused. I wanted to hit him. Nobody told me what to do or how to treat or how to look at my wife. Nobody. Except maybe my wife herself. But he seemed to notice things I hadn’t. Why? Was he a better doctor? Was he a better person? Was he a better man?
    I stood there like a statue until Gwyna tugged my arm impatiently and whispered: “Come on. I don’t want to have to go through all that again.”
    We clambered into the litter. Grattius and Vibia were waving madly at us, and I waved in return. Gwyna waved, too, then leaned against the cushions out of sight. Her eyes were bluer than they’d been in a long time.
    She leaned forward. “Well? What did you think?”
    My mind was still on Philo. “About what?”
    â€œAbout those people. Are Romans usually that decadent and disgusting?”
    â€œThese were prizewinners. They’d give Trimalchio a run for his money.”
    She looked puzzled. “Who’s Trimalchio?”
    â€œJust a character in a book.”
    â€œOh.” She looked wistful. “I’d like to read it.”
    I was surprised. “Of course. I’ll get you a copy.”
    She nodded, lost in thought. “Arcturus…”
    â€œYes, Gwyna?”
    â€œWas I—did I do everything properly?”
    I was surprised again. Gwyna had been to parties before, had experienced the Londinium social whirl when she was very young and married to her first husband.
    â€œYou were magnificent. I, er, I was surprised to see you and Sulpicia so chummy.”
    She opened her eyes wide. “That cow? Chummy? Ha!”
    â€œBut you—you—”
    She looked at me with pity. “Of course. How else am I going to make sure she doesn’t sit in your lap and play ‘find the gladius ’?”
    This time I was shocked.
    â€œBut I—I’d never—”
    â€œYes, I know, Arcturus. But you are a man, and men are easily gulled, especially by women as inventive as Sulpicia.”
    â€œWell, Philo—”
    â€œâ€”thinks I’m attractive. I was only flirting with him to get information. For our case.”
    Now I was just dumb. “Our case?”
    â€œI thought Grattius’s reaction to the haunted mine story was odd—of course, I didn’t catch the whole thing—that loud-mouthed woman was talking about it, but she garbled her Latin so much I