the Sheen On the Silk (2010) by Perry Anne

Author:Perry, Anne [Anne, Perry,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-01-14T19:09:18.609000+00:00

Thirty-nine

FOR ZOE CHRYSAPHES TO INQUIRE WAS EXCELLENT, BUT it was not all that Giuliano could do. He also looked in the other quarters of the city for people who knew which families had gone where during the long exile. It had to be done in the time he did not need for his duties to Venice. Toward the end of the month Zoe had set for his return, Giuliano visited the hill from which Anastasius had said he could see in every direction.

It was not difficult to find the exact place, and the view was as spectacular as described. It was also sheltered from the west wind, and there was a balm in the air. Vines below him were in flower and sent up a perfume, delicate and sweet. It was some time before he realized it was the softness of the waning light on the sea that reminded him of home. He looked up, narrowing his eyes, and the small, rippled clouds, like the scales of a fish, were the same also, and mares’ tails shredding in gossamer to the northeast, fanning the sun’s rays into a skeletal hand.

The following evening he returned, and this time Anastasius was there. The physician turned and smiled but did not speak for several minutes, as if the sea spread before them were eloquent enough.

“It is a perfect place,” Giuliano said at last. “But perhaps it would be wrong for any one person to possess it.”

Anastasius smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that. You are right, it should be here for everyone who can see, and no oaf who can’t.” Then he shook his head. “That’s too harsh. I have been dealing with fools all day, and I am short-tempered. I’m sorry.”

Giuliano was oddly pleased to find him fallible. He had been a trifle daunting before, although he realized it only now. He found himself smiling. “Did you know a family named Agallon in Nicea?” He asked the question before considering it.

Anastasius thought for a moment. “I remember my father mentioning a name like that. He treated many people.”

“He was a physician also?” he asked.

Anastasius looked out across the water. “Yes. He taught me most of what I know.”

He had stopped, but Giuliano sensed that there was more, an intimate memory that was so sweet, it was painful to bring it back now when the reality was gone. “Did you learn willingly?” he asked instead.

“Oh yes!” Suddenly Anastasius’s face came alive, eyes bright, lips parted. “I loved it. From as far back as I can remember. He had no interest in me when I was born, but as soon as I could speak, he taught me all kinds of things. I remember helping him in the garden,” he went on. “At least I imagined I was helping. I expect I was far more of a nuisance, but he never told me so. We used to tend the herbs together, and I learned them all, what they looked like, smelled like, which part to use, root or leaf or flower, how to harvest them and keep them safe and from spoiling.

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