The Bone House Read Online Free PDF Page B

have been in some way to blame for his troubles, “I am an honest man and do an honest day’s work. I earned my pay and now I am hungry, and my children are hungry.”
    “How much are you owed?”
    “Twenty-five denari,” replied the man readily. Turms looked into the fellow’s eyes for a moment, and the man returned his gaze unwaveringly.
    “I am satisfied,” declared the king. Turning to one of the acolytes, he said, “Give this man fifty denari out of the treasury. Then send the Master of the Rolls with two soldiers to collect the same from this man’s employer.”
    The acolyte picked up his wax tablet and, with a rosewood stylus, recorded the king’s judgement in the soft wax. Other petitioners came forward then—some seeking a judgement, others in search of a decision or knowledge of the most favourable time to begin some undertaking or another, still others for healing of various ailments. Each brought an offering that was added to the growing heap, just as every judgement and decision was dutifully recorded on the tablet.
    Then, as the ranks of supplicants thinned, there came a commotion from the rear. Turms, in the middle of a pronouncement, sensed a ripple of excitement pass through the remaining crowd. He finished quickly and then turned to address his people. “What is happening here? Why this unseemly murmuring?”
    “Someone has come, lord king,” offered a nearby subject. “A stranger. He is asking to see you.”
    “A stranger has come?” wondered Turms; his fingers felt for the pebble couched in his sleeve. “Make way and let him appear before me.”
    At the king’s command, the gathering parted to allow the newcomer through. Striding towards him was a tall man in strange colourless clothing that bisected his long body—white above and black below—but the face was open and friendly; moreover, it was a face he knew. “Behold!” called King Turms, raising his hands in exclamation. “My foreign visitor has arrived.”
    The stranger went down on one knee, then rose and was recognised by his friend. “Arturos! Is it you?”
    “The sight of you gladdens my heart and makes my spirit soar,” replied Arthur Flinders-Petrie, reciting the ancient greeting response. “I have longed to see you, my lord king.”
    “My people,” said the king, “I present to you my friend Arturos. Make him welcome among you during his sojourn with us.”
    There were murmurs of assent all around, and others called greetings, which Arthur returned in kind.
    Turms turned to one of the acolytes and said, “Guide my esteemed visitor to the royal lodge and command my house servants to make him welcome and give him refreshment.” To Arthur, he said, “The day’s audience is nearly finished. I will join you soon.”
    “As you must,” agreed Arthur. “I have no desire to interrupt your holy offices.”
    With that, the acolyte led the king’s guest away, up the long earthen ramp to the royal lodge where his arrival was announced.
    “Arturos! You have returned!” cried the Master of the King’s House, rushing out onto the broad porch of the lodge. “On behalf of my king and all the people of Velathri, I bid you peace and welcome.”
    “It pleases my heart to see you, Pacha,” said Arthur, feeling his way back through a long-disused corridor of language. “I had hoped to return sooner, but . . .” He shrugged.
    “Life is a constant turmoil for men in the world,” offered the king’s housekeeper. “But you are here now, and I trust you will stay long enough to allow Tyrrhenia to soothe your soul.” Laying a finger to his lips, he paused, then added, “I think a libation of sweet wine will prove efficacious in this regard.” Indicating a low couch covered with red cushions, he said, “If you will please make yourself comfortable, I will return shortly.”
    “You are too kind, Pacha,” replied Arthur. “I am happy to look after myself.”
    The royal housekeeper bowed and backed away; he disappeared,