The tower loomed over the center of Igoumenitsa making it easy to locate. Using the structure as a guide, they headed up streets that twisted and turned in the general direction.
“I’m hungry,” Alerio suggested. “Let’s find a stall and eat.”
“No,” Zoon replied.
The sailor’s chin was elevated and his eyes locked on the tower. As if a man on a mission, Zoon maintained a steady and relentless pace.
“Okay, we’ll eat after visiting the tower,” Alerio acknowledged.
They approached a second gate. This one set in the interior defensive wall of the city. On the other side, the two visitors found themselves on a straight evenly paved road. Alerio knew the purpose of the fast avenue. The ones in the Capital were for the rapid deployment of Legion Centuries. He imagined this road served the same purpose.
Alerio and Zoon left the road where it ran by a rocky hill that supported the tower. Taking a short path, they walked from the smooth road to the foot of a massive rock. There, they found steps chiseled out of the stone leading up to the base of the tower.
Zoon rushed up the steps and didn’t stop. Alerio did and craned his neck to gaze up at the tower. It was more imposing from the base than from other parts of the city. A shout drew Alerio’s attention to the entrance.
“An offering to the Gods is required,” a priest complained. But he was talking to Zoon’s back as the sailor disappeared into the tower. “Brothers, we have a none believer.”
In response to the priest’s words, two large men with clubs rushed from around the tower.
“Hold on,” Alerio shouted as he pulled a coin purse from inside his shirt. Reaching in, he pulled out two silver coins. “I have donations for my friend and myself.”
“Blessings on you and your friend, my son,” the priest said while taking the coins. He dropped them into his own purse and waved off the guards. “Please enjoy the tallest miracle of the Gods in the world.”
Alerio didn’t have anything to compare it to so he accepted the claim of the priest. Ducking through the doorway, he entered a marvel of architecture that was surely built with the guiding hands of the Goddess Hestia.
***
Square-cut stones formed a wide circular room. The ring of stones continued upward appearing to close in as they ascended. One side of the tower was broken by platforms supporting ladders. The other half rose unimpeded to light filtering in under a roof. At least Alerio assumed it was a roof. The only way to find out was to climb a ladder to the first landing and then the others until he reached the top.
Catching a glimpse of the sailor on the third landing, Alerio shouted, “Zoon. Wait for me.”
Echoes in the mountains near his father’s farm and reverberations in an empty barrel didn’t compare with the sound in the tower. His voice carried upward, flowed around the walls, changing tone as it traveled. Beyond the strange acoustics, Alerio’s voice deepened and the volume increased.
Zoon paused, leaned over the railing, jerking his head upward, down, and around. He seemed to be searching for the source and unable to locate Alerio.
“Zoon. I’m down here. On the floor.”
The sailor repeated the puzzling behavior. All he needed to do was look down and he could clearly see the Latian waving his arms. But in all the sharp movements of his head, Zoon’s eyes never spotted Alerio.
Giving up on calling to him, Alerio mounted the ladder and began to climb. He reached the third platform. By then, Zoon had moved higher. When the Legionary finally reached the top, he found there was a roof over the lookout roost.
Zoon stood at a stone parapet staring out to sea. From the heights of the tower, Alerio’s eyes followed the river as it wove through the farmland before emptying into the sea. Where the fresh water of the Kalamas flowed into the Ionian, silt deposits were visible below the surface. While Alerio took in the vista, the sailor continued his even gaze at the green sea.
“It’s an amazing view isn’t it?” he inquired. When Zoon didn’t acknowledge him, he repeated the phrase in a deeper tone. “It’s an amazing view isn’t it.”
“Yes. Amazing,” Zoon replied.
Alerio snapped his head around. The sailor still looked off into the distance, giving no sign he had said a word besides the usual yes or no.
“Zoon. What are you thinking?” he asked uttering the words from deep in his chest.
“Zoon. Think,” the sailor responded.
They stood with the awe-inspiring sight splayed out before them. And while Zoon seemed contented, Alerio kept an eye on the location of the sun. When it signaled midafternoon, he spoke to the semi-silent sailor in the basso voice.
“Poseidon’s realm is as beautiful as it is deep.”
“Beautiful. Deep,” Zoon spoke the words in a flat tone.
An idea formed and the Latian pulled on Zoon’s arm.
“Zoon. Let’s go find food,” Alerio suggested.
“Find. Food.”
***
They left the tower and walked the stone steps down to the path. When they reached the road, Alerio didn’t look for a food stall or a pub. Instead, he guided Zoon to a harness and bridle makers shop.
“Master Craftsman. I’m looking for the best doctor in Igoumenitsa,” Alerio announced as he pulled Zoon into the shop. Taking out a coin, he placed it on the counter. “I’ll pay for the information.”
“Bones, bleeding, or bowels?” the leather worker inquired.
Supplying gear for horses put the harness and bridle maker in contact with a lot of trades. Everyone in a dangerous occupation such as farmers, wagon drivers, soldiers, and stoneworkers would tell him stories about injuries while buying his leather. The craftsmen should have heard about the best doctor for any ailment.
“Ears, hearing, and confusion,” Alerio described.
“Head injuries are the province of Physician Pyxis,” the craftsman related. “If one is kicked in the head by a mule, Pyxis is the doctor to see. You’ll find his Villa up the hill on the other side of the tower near the temples.”
Alerio thanked the leather worker, nudged Zoon out of the shop, and together they took the road towards the doctor’s house.
Chapter 26 – The Box
“Physician Pyxis does not take charity cases,” a middle-aged man informed Alerio.
Even with his nose turned up, the man’s eyes brushed lightly over the washed-out woolen clothing of the two men at the front door.
“I have coins,” Alerio informed the man. To emphasize the fact, the Legionary shook his coin purse.
“Gastr. Who comes to call?” a voice crackling with age inquired from deep in the Villa.
If not for the echo through the house, Alerio doubted the voice would carry very far on its own.
“A patient, I believe,” Gastr replied.
“Yes, a patient,” Alerio confirmed.
The man stepped back. With a nod of his head, he indicated a direction for Zoon and Alerio as they entered. Once the door was closed, Gastr led them across a room, through an arched opening, and into a room with shelves filled with bottles and porcelain containers. Tables around the room had a variety of odd objects on the tabletops. They left the room, exiting out the far side, and stepped onto a central patio.
“Physician Pyxis. Here are the patients,” Gastr announced.
An old man reclining on a sofa rolled the scroll he had been reading. Swinging his feet to the tiles, Pyxis gathered his bulky robe and stood. The wrinkles around his bright eyes creased as he walked to Alerio. After a moment of searching the Latian’s face, he moved to Zoon. Rising up on his toes, the physician pursed his lips and blew gently on Zoon’s left eye.
The eyelids didn’t respond immediately. It took four or five heartbeats before the lids fluttered in response to the air pressure.
“I see no break on the skin or bruising. There are no signs of bad humors. No outwardly corrupt blood, yellow bile, black bile, or phlegm humors,” Pyxis commented. “What accident caused this state?”
>
“He fell into the sea and was down long enough to stop breathing,” Alerio informed the physician. “They thought he was dead.”
Pyxis lifted a hand and snapped his fingers beside Zoon’s ear. The sailor didn’t flinch or react to the sound. Again, having to rise up on his toes, the doctor peered into Zoon’s ear.
“Gastr. Bring me the white vinegar,” he called out while stepping back. Then he instructed Alerio. “Place him on the sofa and lay him on his side.”
“Which side?”
“Either as it’s impossible for both to be accessible in the same moment,” Pyxis answered but he seemed to be speaking his thoughts more than replying. “The body is a vessel for the true self. His soul is trapped, as if locked in a box, his desires and beliefs are separated from the physical world around him.”
Gastr carried in a small sealed amphora and placed it on the table beside the couch.
“See here Gastr, this man’s wits are as isolated as a bird in a clay pitcher,” Pyxis described. “Let us attempt to drill a hole in the surface and see if his soul can find a way to reconnect with his body.”
“What? Are you going to drill into his skull?” Alerio demanded. “I don’t think…”
But Gastr held up a hand to calm the Legionary.
“It’s an allegory, a trick of rhetoric,” he said.
“Quite right. Please place three drops in his ear,” Pyxis directed.
Gastr uncapped the amphora and poured a clear liquid into a small pitcher. Then, he held the container over Zoon and allowed three fat drops to drip into the sailor’s ear.
“The white vinegar is made from white grapes,” Gastr stated as he rested the pitcher on the table. “Then we strain it through silk cloth to make it pure.”
“Come Gastr, let me demonstrate the treatment,” Pyxis ordered.
Before walking away, he patted Zoon’s shoulder and pressed down to relate that the sailor should remain in the reclined position.
Alerio followed the physician and, as he now realized, the doctor’s apprentice back into the room with the shelving.
“Sit there,” Pyxis said indicating a chair. Alerio thought he was an observer but the physician pointed at him and directed. “Sit down in the chair facing the table.”
Once seated, Pyxis brought a bottomless box to the table and placed it in front of Alerio. Through the box, the Legionary could see the rest of the table’s top and the shelving on the wall beyond. Then the physician put an olive on the table.
“What do you see?” he inquired.
“An olive,” Alerio replied.
“Yes, an olive,” Pyxis said as he dropped slats into grooves closing the opening of the box a little. Then he sat a lemon in front of the narrower opening. “What do you see now?”
“A lemon.”
“Excellent,” Pyxis exclaimed. He dropped in more slats making the opening even smaller. Another object was placed on the table. “What do you see?”
Alerio wasn’t sure what the doctor put on the tabletop. Only part of it was visible through the opening between the slats.
“It looks like a melon or some other smooth pale skinned fruit,” Alerio described.
“Very good,” Pyxis said. He dropped in a final slat sealing the end of the box. After laying an object on the tabletop, he inquired. “What do you see now?”
“Nothing, except the slats.”
“That, Gastr, is the state of the patient’s soul,” Pyxis explained to his student. Then the Physician stepped back and a small hole appeared in the center slate. It seemed Pyxis had his finger over the opening. “What do you see now?”
“It’s shiny, reddish purple with a smooth surface,” Alerio reported.
“The small hole allows the soul to collect information from the senses. Although limited, this man has demonstrated the ability to guess at the essence of what he is seeing. If we can create a conduit to our patient’s soul, he may begin to contact more and more of the outside world,” declared Pyxis. “Provided his wits aren’t completely scrambled. Come Gastr, let us go and see about our progress.”
Alerio stood and looked over the box. Resting on the tabletop was a pomegranate. The tiny opening had let him see only part of the fruit and the idea of his sight revealing the color and texture made sense. But Alerio couldn’t connect the vinegar in Zoon’s ear with the hole in the slat. Completely confused, he followed the doctors back to the patio.
Zoon, as instructed, hadn’t moved. Pyxis hooked the sailor’s arm and urged him to a sitting position. Then the physician walked to another table and picked up a leather cone. As he came back, Alerio noticed the tip had been cut off.
Pyxis placed the small end of the cone in Zoon’s ear.
“Follow my voice,” instructed the physician. “Follow my voice.”
The sailor shifted as if preparing to rise and follow Pyxis. But the physician hadn’t moved.
“Follow my voice,” he said again without moving.
“What does he want Zoon to do?” inquired Alerio.
“Physician Pyxis is calling to the man’s soul,” Gastr replied. “The treatment helps heal the ear of pus, abscess, and obstructions. If the channel is clear, his soul may find a way to contact with the flesh.”
“Like the hole in the box allowed me to see part of the pomegranate,” guessed Alerio.
“If you had put your head in the box and moved closer to the hole, you could have seen the entire piece of fruit. Move further in and more of the room would have been visible,” Gastr informed him. “Thus, we hope your friend will sense the outside world and move towards it.”
“Follow. Voice,” Zoon said. “Voice. Follow.”
“It’s progress,” exclaimed Pyxis. He placed the cone on the table and directed. “Gastr, if you please, treat the other ear.”
***
Late in the afternoon, Alerio paid the physician, stuffed a porcelain container of white vinegar in a pouch, and walked Zoon out of the Villa.
“Food,” the sailor said once they were on the street.
“Soon. We have another stop to make first,” Alerio responded taking Zoon’s arm.
Together they strolled down the street, by the tower hill, and into the harness and bridle maker’s shop.
“Back for more information?” the craftsman inquired.
“No. I need a leather cone,” Alerio stated using his hands to describe the item. “and a strap to hang it around my friend’s neck.”
Selecting a scrap piece of leather, the craftsman rolled it and held up the shape.
“Like this? It’ll make a handy drinking vessel.”
“There needs to be an opening at the tip,” Alerio replied.
“It’s a listening device,” the leather worker ventured. “Sometimes, old people request them.”
With a sharp leather knife, he cut the end off, punched holes in the sides, and quickly stitched them together. He punched two more holes and knotted the ends of a braided leather strap on the inside.
Alerio took the cone and hung it around Zoon’s neck. Then he placed the cone on the sailor’s ear.
“Let’s go eat,” he said in a normal tone.
“Go. Eat,” replied Zoon.
Alerio paid the leather worker and they left the shop. A little further downhill, the aroma of roasting beef guided them to an eatery. Pushing open the door, they entered a crowded pub. In the low light, Alerio searched for empty seats. He located two at a small table in the back.
“Wine and two big slices of that beef I smell,” he ordered from the serving lass.
“Would you like bread and baked radishes with them?”
Alerio reached across the table and lifted the cone to Zoon’s ear.
“Ask my friend,” ordered Alerio.
“Is he all right?” she inquired.
“Just ask him.”
“Do you want bread and baked radishes?” she asked.
Zoon’s eyes opened wide and he replied, “Yes.”
Alerio’s heart sank.
It seemed the sailor was back to being a functional mute.
“Bread. Radishes. Yes,” Zoon added.
“You heard my friend, bring forth the food.”
When Alerio let the cone drop and hang from the strap, Zoon took it and held it to his ear. While they waited for the wine and food, the sailor rotated his head listening to conversations around the room.
***
The food was consumed and a number of mugs emptied. Alerio sat back watching Zoon scan the room listening to the other patrons. The Legionary had no idea how much of the conversations he understood. But the sailor seemed to be enjoying himself and considering he had saved Alerio’s life, sitting in a pub alive with a full belly was worth everything.
A few tables away a large man slid back his chair, stood, and began to sing.
And the young sailor wept
As the wind swept
His ship away from shore
As we dipped our oars
We heard him implore
Calliope, my heart
My love forevermore
Then the entire pub joined in the choirs.
Calliope waiting at home for me
While I’m at sea are you faithful to me
The ship I am rowing
From port to port going
Further from Calliope
My heart goes out to thee
Dear sweet Calliope
The big man waited for the last lagging voice before starting the next verse.
At another harbor
We heard him blubber
As the sails filled…
“Calliope. Calliope. Home. Me. Sea,” Zoon screamed out.
The big fellow glared at the loud off-key singer and Alerio.
“Keep it down while I’m singing,” the large man bellowed. He started the verse again.
At another harbor
We heard him blubber
As the sails filled with wind
By chance we lean in…
“Calliope. Calliope. Home. Me. Sea,” Zoon yelled.
Fatal Obligation Page 16