Chapter XXVI
XXVI
Felix shuffled forward in the line of patrons waiting for their turn to be served.
His mouth watered at the warm scents of herb-crusted meat and fresh flatbread drifting out of the open-front eatery ahead.
Shifting the bundle of herbs and imported powders under his arm, he peered around the shoulder of the man in front of him, thankful for the errand that got him out of the ludus walls.
Nearly a dozen hungry patrons to go. Under normal circumstances, he’d skip the wait and find somewhere less busy.
Fewer patrons usually hinted at poorer fare, but food was food.
He wasn’t picky. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance.
The giant man in front of him shifted slightly, shooting a glare of sunlight off his bald head and into Felix’s eyes. “Thank you for meeting me.”
Felix blinked, still standing slightly out of line. “How’s Ilona?”
“Well. One of the monks brought her to stay with his sister. Once she is well enough, we will make plans to deliver her home.”
“And you leave soon for Ravenna?”
“Today.”
“God go with you. Is there something you need?”
Telemachus lowered his voice. “I wanted to speak with you about Adelgard.”
Her name sent a hitch to his breath. Two men elbowed past them shoving bites of flatbread-wrapped meat into their mouths. Felix’s stomach rumbled. They shuffled forward in line.
“She doesn’t trust me. I told her about the Gaul, explained what Jovan demanded for Ilona and still, she fears I am manipulating her like everyone else.”
Telemachus wasn’t listening and hunched forward instead, shifting through a money pouch tied around his neck.
It wouldn’t be long before it was their turn to order. Felix should probably get his own money out but . . . “I suggested we take the little one, Berit, next, but she’s hesitating. I’ve done everything I can to convince her I’m a friend, that I’m telling the truth, but . . . it isn’t enough.”
“She might change her mind if you gave her this.” Still facing forward, Telemachus extended his hand back toward Felix, a flash of something gold resting on his fingers.
Felix took it and held it up discreetly.
A ring of gold knotwork set with a large amber stone glinted in the light.
A foreign piece, not in any Greek or Roman style he’d ever seen.
It was beautiful. Confusion set his brow in similar knots.
“What good will a ring do? If she won’t accept my help, she won’t accept a marriage proposal.
” As soon as the words were out, he heard their stupidity.
That was the thing about words. One never realized how ridiculous some were until they came out.
Or until the giant man in front of you barked a laugh and tried to turn it into a cough.
So Felix did the only thing he could do and laughed too.
Because of course it was absurd to combine the words marriage proposal and Adel in the same sentence.
Still, the temperature seemed to be rising, even though he’d just stepped beneath the shaded awning of the eatery.
Telemachus cleared his throat, making a valiant and considerate attempt to mask his amusement before speaking. “It’s her father’s ring. He gave it to me hoping I could use it to bring her home. I think he imagined me selling or trading it, but perhaps giving it to her will have the same effect.”
“He is looking for her?” Somehow that knowledge cooled the heat rising in his face. From the way she’d spoken of her father, her family, Adelgard would be . . . skeptical of the news.
“Her family is desperate to find her. As are all the families of the captives.”
Felix’s fingers closed around the ring. “If anything will reach her, this . . . this might.”