"This would be easy," Xylina ventured. "She could install one of her slaves there to run the tavern-or perhaps two slaves-she could conjure the liquor, and need only oversee the slaves. I think she could do well, and I am sure you have all the court connections you would need to get permission for both the tavern and the door to be cut in the wall behind it." She tilted her head a little to one side, thinking aloud. "In fact, the front room faces on the forecourt, and the rear on the rear court and the Wall. The freedmen and the women of Glass Fountain need never even see each other; each could be served from a different room."
Antione nodded, her eyes showing her surprise, as if she had not expected that Xylina would be so shrewd. "If you would be willing to trade your property for a third of the value of my little house, I think you could move in today."
Careful, Xylina warned herself.Be careful. Don't act too quickly - Yet she was excited; she wanted to jump up and shout her agreement. This was everything she had wanted, and more than she had dared hope for.
"I would like to see it first, of course," she said, as if a little reluctant.
"Well, of course!" Antione signaled to her slave, who brought her a wrought-iron key from a rack of many such keys on the side of his desk. "I'll take you there myself, this instant. I would like to put this all in motion as soon as possible, if you are in agreement."
Xylina hardly noticed the walk, so eager was she to see the house. She already wanted it, no matter how shabby it was, for it certainly could not be poorer than the place where she lived now.
Antione led her to a wrought-iron gate in a high stone wall, a gate that had spikes built into the top to prevent anyone from climbing it. She opened the gate with a flourish, and Xylina and Faro followed her inside, finding them in the forecourt of the little house. The house was, indeed, smaller than most of the others in Moonflower-in fact, a woman with any sizable household would not have been comfortable there.
The forecourt was cool and lovely, however, shaded by two enormous plane-trees, and paved with blue slate. The single door, built into the blank wall, led into the house proper.
The first room was the public or common room; it was furnished with two couches and two chairs, with small tables beside each. It was lit from a skylight, since no one would have any windows looking out on the gate and the street beyond. There was a small room just off this common room that had been fitted up as an office. Then came the sleeping quarters, coming off a hall that led from the common room to the kitchen at the rear. It only had one real bedroom, with quarters for three slaves, or a combination of children and slaves. The kitchen and the bathing room were at the rear, and then came a door that led out into the rear court and the gardens there.
But it did have that lovely little forecourt that boasted a tiny fountain. The kitchen-garden in the rear court, although overgrown and weedy, had an apple tree and a fishpond and, unlike her old place, was supplied with water from the aqueducts, which meant no more pumping, or wondering if the well had been contaminated.
The bathing room was areal bathing room with running water from the city aqueducts, a luxury Xylina had not enjoyed in years. This meant that if she wanted a real bath, with real water, she could have one-and Faro could bathe without her having to conjure a bath for him, if ever she was too busy to do so.
The furniture was of very plain, heavy wood-much scarred by ill-use, and a little chewed upon. It would need new cushions, eventually, but she could live with the ones there now, once they had been cleaned and beaten free of the dust and hair that was thick upon them.
"The previous tenant kept dogs," Antione said, distastefully. "Very large dogs. The neighbors complained about the barking until I had to ask her to leave."
Xylina nodded wisely, and pointed out the defects in the place: that the hypocaust, and the stove that heated its air, would need a thorough cleaning; that the fishpond had been allowed to go dry and would need restocking; that the dogs had made a mess of the kitchen-garden, not to mention the furniture.
But she was in love with the little place, and it didn't take much persuasion on Antione's part to get her to agree to the bargain.
They returned to her office, and the slave was sent to the Office of Records to obtain both deeds. After that, it was simply a matter of signatures, and it was accomplished.
Faro had followed her everywhere, of course, and she had done her best to ignore his presence as Antione had ignored the presence of her own slaves. But once the gate was closed behind the two of them, Xylina dropped her pretense.
"Well?" she demanded, eagerly. "What do you think? Did we do well?"
He didn't answer immediately, but then, he never did. He had the habit of thinking over everything he was going to say before he said it, and she had gotten used to that. He examined the forecourt carefully, with the same attention he had given to her old home.
"There were some other defects you didn't catch," he said, finally. "I think the stove in the kitchen will need repairing before it can be used, and there's some settling in the foundation that has caused some cracks in the wall in the kitchen. But on the whole-this was a good choice. There's only one thing I truly don't like."
"What is that?" she asked, puzzled.
"This place-it's not defensible," he replied, with a frown. "It's terribly open. There are no bars on the windows in the rear, and only the front gate locks. I can see no way to put a lock or a bar upon the front door without making it look like the door to a prison. If I'm to guard you effectively, I will have to sleep in your chamber, across your threshold."
She dismissed that with a shrug. "I can't imagine who would want to break in here," she said. "It isn't as if we have any real valuables to steal. And what profit would there be in attacking me?"
He looked at her strangely, as if he could very readily think of a reason someone would want to attack her, but he didn't share it. "Very well then, little mistress," he said. "Would you like me to get your belongings, then go to the market for you?"
"Please," she said, gratefully. "I know you've said many times that you don't mind doing such a lowly task, but I feel I should keep thanking you. You really are above a task like that, and as soon as I can afford a kitchen-slave, you can stop doing this."
As she said this, she couldn't help feeling a heady sense of exhilaration at the very thought. As soon as she could afford a kitchen-slave. Not "if," but "when." She never could have dreamed of that before.
He smiled: one of his rare, slow smiles. "Think nothing of it, little mistress," he said. "After all, you are undertaking the lowly task of cooking, which I would dread to attempt."
"I don't mind," she replied earnestly. "I did it for myself and Marcus; I don't mind doing it for both of us."
But Faro frowned, as if he were determined that she should not have to cook much longer. "I am also going to see while I'm there if I can't find someone in need of a scribe-a freedman, perhaps. There is no sense in wasting time in getting employment for my skills. I am valuable, little mistress; I would be remiss if I did not begin to augment your income at once."
This man was incredible; he seemed to take more care of her than she did of herself. She smiled and shook her head. "You amaze me, Faro. Sometimes-sometimes I wonder how it is that our fates crossed. Whether it really was luck. You know, I wondered before I fell asleep last night if it was Marcus who somehow sent you to me."
"Sometimes I wonder myself, little mistress," he replied, in complete seriousness, "and the same thought occurred to me last night. Who knows? No one knows at all what is on the other side of death. Perhaps the dead can influence the living, or the fates of the living." And with those surprising words, he turned to go. She had given him the charge of most of their money on the second day of their association, saying that she saw no need to issue it to him in driblets as if he couldn't be trusted with it. He had been touched; she had seen it in his eyes.