Free A Bitter Chill by Jane Finnis Page A

me intently. “My wife can be very determined sometimes. It’s a quality I admire in her, even though it doesn’t always make for an easy life.” He laughed once more, and then without warning his laughter changed to a fit of coughing, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. He gasped several times, and put both hands to his chest. He was in pain, and I felt a sudden panic.
    “What is it? Is there anything I can do?”
    He pointed to a small earthenware flask and cup on the table next to his bed. “My medicine,” he said between gasps. “Pour me some, will you?”
    I did so, and held it to his lips, and he drank it down and waved away my offer of more. “Can’t take too much. It’s powerful stuff.” He lay back on the pillows. He’d stopped coughing, and his breathing was easier. “Don’t be alarmed. I get these bad turns now and then. My chest hurts, and I can’t breathe properly. They’re a nuisance, nothing more.”
    “Shall I fetch Timaeus?”
    “There’s no need. I’m over the worst. He’ll be here soon anyway, to bring my sleeping-potion.” He coughed again once, but was now breathing more or less normally, and my panic receded. Clearly he was more used to this than I was. He paused, and then asked, “Have you ever been in the situation of feeling yourself surrounded by enemies, and yet not being sure exactly who they are?”
    The unexpectedness of this made me answer simply and straight out. “Yes, I have. It was dreadful. Having an enemy is bad enough, but having to suspect everyone around you makes it a nightmare.”
    He nodded. “Exactly. Now, there’s just one more matter that needs to be clarified. My doctor insists I must be extremely careful about my diet. It’s imperative I stick to the foods he has prescribed. Tell your kitchen staff that I do not want anyone other than Timaeus preparing my meals. Not anyone at all. I’ll only eat food that Timaeus has got ready with his own hands. Please make sure that is understood.”
    What in Hades was going on here? It almost sounded as if he thought someone was trying to poison him.
    “I’ll make sure. I promise.”
    “Good. And my dietary requirements are the only part of this conversation that will ever be referred to outside this room.”
    “I understand. But….”
    “Yes?”
    “Please don’t think me presumptuous, but my brother is an investigator for the Governor, and as I’ve said, I’ve had some experience myself of dealing with secret enemies. Is there anyone in particular who should be watched?”
    A mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes, making him look twenty years younger. “Secret enemies? Whatever brought that into your head? I’m just an old man, rambling on about nothing in particular.”
    “Of course. But whoever your enemies are, I’m not among them.” I don’t know what made me say that, but it was true. I liked the old man, though I was slightly afraid of him too, and in any battle between him and Sempronia, I knew which side I would support.
    “This son of ours,” he mused, more to himself than to me. “The trouble is he’s not living out the dreams we’ve always had for him. Especially his mother. But I must confess that in a way I envy him. Well, no matter. I won’t keep you any longer. Good night.”
    I found Timaeus waiting just outside the door. He put a finger to his lips and walked with me to the end of the corridor. I beckoned him through into the hall.
    “Can your patient spare you for long enough to have a glass of wine?”
    “Thanks, I’d like that.”
    The bar-room was empty, and we made ourselves comfortable on a bench by the fire, with beakers of spiced wine to hand.
    “Gods, it’s good to be away from them all for a while.” He stretched his long legs to the warmth, and moved closer to me than bar-room etiquette usually dictates. But I remembered a saying of our grandmother’s: a girl should never let etiquette interfere with enjoyment.
    “I sympathise. Looking after an