20
The next morning, after training with Nikolaos, Argolicus sat in the peristylum of the town house. The sounds of the street—horse hooves on the pavement, muffled voices—filtered through the open roof.
Nikolaos crouched at one of the beds planting herbs he’d brought from the estate. He dug a hole in the earth, pulled a plant from a mound at his feet, placed it in the hole, and patted the soil above the roots.
Argolicus thought about Proba, how they’d moved to friendship in a matter of days. Now his other friend had disturbed that friendship.
When they came back to town, Ebrimuth had come with them and continued to Proba’s home, “to safeguard her stay.” Argolicus shook his head. He wondered if he would ever experience a thunderbolt. It seemed unlikely.
“I’ve been looking at Quintinus
