Chapter 10

The next morningwas too cold for sitting in the garden. Zo woke late with a headache and a vague memory of Hylas visiting on his way out and leaving tea. It was lukewarm now, but the buns were still good. He ate them sitting in bed and brushed the crumbs off the blanket.

It had been a while since he'd had a truly late night; evenings had been ending early at the Red Balconies, a symptom of the lack of guests. He hadn't realized how much he'd begun to count on the extra sleep.

Mistress Aula was still pleased with him. She told everyone so that morning, breezing into the companions' sitting room to announce that they should all follow Zo's example.

"Mistress," Menthe ventured meekly, "where are we going to entertain tonight? It's too cold for the courtyard …"

"In your rooms, of course. You should be spending more time with the guests in your rooms anyway."

"Surely we can get the good winter sitting room ready for tonight," said Theano, "if we work together."

"What? Don't be impertinent! None of the furnishings I've ordered are ready. You'll meet your guests in the courtyard and bring them back to your rooms."

"That hasn't been the custom of the house," said Theano.

"I don't care! It is now! And you'll all get yourselves garlands from rich patrons. If Zo and Chrestos can do it, the rest of you can, too. I'm not having my house thought of as a place where you come to court boys—not when I have perfectly good girls on offer."

"I like how she managed to make that sound like an insult to you too, somehow," Menthe remarked to Zo after Mistress had gone.

He winced. "Did you notice that? I noticed that."

"There's no winning with her," said Pani grimly. "Do you know she tried to pull Taris's headscarf off last night? She only stopped because one of the guests saw her."

"And she yelled at the aqueduct man last week in front of guests," Menthe added.

Theano sighed. "I'll try to reason with her again, though I'm afraid she won't listen to me. If I can at least get her to compromise on some of the redecorating, we can have a usable sitting room, and that will be something."

"Won't we risk losing guests if we try to take them all back to our rooms?" said Zo. "They don't all come here to see just one of us."

"Exactly." Theano rubbed her forehead. "We'll just have to do our best. Let's get on with our chores, everyone."

Hylas came into the government office to find it was payday. A pair of soldiers from the fort were there, accompanying a man from the purser's office who was handing out money and ticking off names in a ledger. Most of the staff of the office had already received their pay, but there was still a queue of others waiting their turn.

"Should I line up?" Hylas asked, uncertain because this was not the way it had worked before.

"Oh," said Dorios, one of the clerks. "I don't know. Are you on the naval payroll? I wouldn't have thought you were."

"I've never dealt with anyone from the fort before," Hylas agreed. Indeed, he'd been happy to have it that way. "But …"

"But you haven't been paid in a while?" Dorios winced. "I wondered about that, actually. We got one payment for you directly from the governor, shortly after you arrived, but we haven't had anything else. You're not in the budget."

"Oh," said Hylas. "What does that mean?"

"Probably that the governor is paying you out of his own purse. That first amount he gave you didn't go through our ledgers either. The rest of us get paid by the navy, but I think you're just working directly for Governor Loukianos."

Something about the way he said this, with a slightly apologetic tone, made Hylas uneasy.

"You'll have to go talk to him about it, I'm afraid," Dorios said. "He's probably just forgotten to pay you."

This was just what Hylas had been hoping he could avoid. He didn't want to demand pay for work that he hadn't been doing—through no fault of his own, but still. He needed to pay rent, though.

Loukianos didn't seem to be coming into the office that day, so Hylas made his way up the mountain to the governor's mansion. He found Loukianos in his garden, and that provided an excuse to talk about something other than his nonexistent salary.

"Of course I'd be happy to show you my autumn routine, but …" Loukianos's smile was puzzled. "Why?"

"Oh, I've been doing some work in the garden of—the garden at my lodgings. My neighbour planted it, but he's not always well enough to tend it, so I've been helping him."

"Ah! Good man. And so you want some pointers?"

"Yes, I just thought I might be more use to him if I knew what I was doing. And, er, if I were able to make some suggestions for improvement …" He shrugged, embarrassed.

Loukianos's eyebrows rose. "Say no more. This neighbour is someone you want to impress, clearly. Is there a beautiful daughter, or … please say it's not a neglected wife."

"What? Oh! No no no—nothing of the sort, no, please don't worry. I—I want to be a good friend, that's all."

That was true, but it also felt inadequate. The truth was, he felt a desire to repay Zo for something. What, exactly? Perhaps just for the beauty that Zo had brought into his life. Perhaps there was no better way of putting it.

He couldn't help thinking again, as he followed Loukianos through the governor's garden, listening to his description of all the work that needed to be done to prepare for winter, that it was a shame he couldn't introduce Zo and Loukianos.

In the end, Hylas never did ask about his salary, but it was Loukianos who brought up the subject. In a way.

"I've been meaning to ask," he said, "do you need any cash?"

"Er, well, I …"

"My dear fellow, you've only to say! I'll arrange something, not to worry. Any time you need a sum, just let me know. Better yet, you know you may always charge things to my account, anywhere on the island."

"Thank you, sir. That is very generous of you."

It was generous. It was also not at all the way Hylas wanted to proceed. He realized now, as he should have seen a long time ago, that the reason no salary had been mentioned when he first took this job was because Loukianos didn't think in those terms. Maybe he thought Hylas was a man of independent means. Or maybe his idea was that Hylas would be his dependent, living off his bounty while the aqueduct project was in progress. He probably didn't think in terms of paying rent, either, and if Hylas mentioned that his rent had recently increased, he'd find himself invited to move into the governor's mansion. Hylas didn't want that at all.

They went to the Amber Lily again that night, and Hylas tried to be pleased when the companion who had gossiped about the governor's lover before attached himself to Loukianos and engaged him in conversation most of the evening. Perhaps they would both be happier for it; perhaps this young man would, after all, suit Loukianos better than Zo. Hylas noticed that Timon wasn't there.

He'd had a chance to think about it more, and he'd decided that Loukianos's failure to pay him a salary was likely deliberate. The governor wanted the aqueduct to be seen as his gift to the island; he couldn't make that point so effectively by simply putting an engineer on the navy's payroll. He needed Hylas to be his man, his crony, in some kind of patronage relationship with him. He probably wouldn't have minded if he'd known that he and Hylas were rumoured to be a couple.

The courtyard of the Red Balconies was empty when he arrived home, the first time that had happened. It was bitterly cold.

"They're all entertaining in their rooms," Ahmos told him as Hylas stood looking around in surprise.

"Oh. How's that going?"

The bouncer shrugged. "It's a shitshow. Guests have been leaving without waiting for an explanation, people think we're closed or got plague in the house or something. We're short-staffed in the kitchen, and the girls have had to run back and forth for food all evening. Nah, it's a disaster."

"Gods. I'm sorry. At least the winter doesn't last long."

"Yeah, we might pull through."

The walls of the house were thick, and Hylas couldn't hear much from Zo's room, just the occasional extra-loud burst of laughter. He couldn't guess how many guests Zo might be entertaining, and he tried not to spend too much time thinking about it. He had known this was an aspect of Zo taking a patron that might cause disruption to his routine, but he had no right at all to complain about it.

He tapped very tentatively at Zo's garden door the following morning. It was cold enough now that the screens were supplemented by solid sliding shutters. He could hear sounds from inside, so he knew Zo was up, but had no idea whether he was alone or not.

"Come in," said Zo's voice, with an unhappy edge to it.

Hylas slid open the shutter and then the lattice inside it. Zo was standing on a chair, half-dressed, at the wall where he hung his clothes and jewellery. Everything was piled on the floor, and he was tugging at one of the hooks in the wall. He stopped and looked down at Hylas.

"What are you doing?" Hylas asked, trying not to sound alarmed. He set down his tray on the end of Zo's unmade bed.

"I have to change the room," said Zo, gesturing expansively and wobbling on the chair. "I have to take these down. Timon said it looked like a storeroom and I ‘deserve better.'"

"You brought him to your room." Hylas hoped he didn't sound like a disapproving parent. He took a step closer to the chair, ready to catch Zo if he fell.

"I had to— Mistress told us we had to entertain in our rooms, because the sitting rooms aren't ready and the courtyard is too cold. I had a half dozen guests last night, and I had to bring them all back here. It was awful. There was nowhere sensible for them to sit, and they went on about what a bad room it is and how hard-done-by I am. Timon said, This is where they keep you? They don't value you highly enough.' I'm afraid he'll say something to Mistress about it, and she'll move me to a different room. I'd lose my garden."

"Stop," said Hylas firmly. "You won't lose your garden. As long as I'm in my rooms, you can get to it any time you want. But let's make sure it doesn't come to that. Don't take those out of the wall, though. You won't be able to get them back in—you're making the hole bigger—and it's going to look messy. We'll put up curtains and cover all this."

"That's … a good idea." Zo frowned, as if he had expected to be able to find fault with Hylas's suggestion but couldn't.

He climbed down from the chair and sat on it. He was wearing the trousers that he wore to work in the garden, and a short jacket open at the front with no tunic or shirt under it. Hylas tried not to look at his bare chest.

Hylas went on: "I'll take down the curtains in my room and bring them over. I may need to run out and buy some hooks to hang them, but I should be able to have them up for you by this evening."

"Hylas! You can't just give me your curtains."

He started, ready to be mortified. Surely there wasn't some taboo about curtains? "Can I not?"

Zo groaned. "I don't mean you can't—I mean how can I accept them? You just bought them for yourself."

It was Hylas's turn to frown. "If you would prefer to give me money to go to the market and buy curtains for you, I can tell you how much mine cost."

"I don't have money for curtains."

"I know you don't."

Hylas's own curtains had been an extravagant expense, all those yards of fabric, even though they were only dyed a modest shade of cheerful yellow. If he'd realized sooner that he wasn't getting a salary, he would not have bought them. But now he was glad he had.

"I don't want you to be turned out of your room, Zo. Please accept my curtains and let me hang them for you."

Zo nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Hylas."

"It's all right. We'll solve this together. Was there anything else wrong with the room?"

"Uh … it's dark? Which is because I broke my lamp and haven't replaced it. I don't know how much lamps cost …"

That was an odd thing not to know, but perhaps they used candles or something where Zo was from. "They're cheap. Much cheaper than curtains. I'll buy you one when I go to get the hooks."

"She wants me to entertain in here … I don't have any of the right furniture."

"Right. No, you don't. You need cushions for seating, a table, maybe a, er, screen or something in front of your bed. Is there extra furniture elsewhere in the house that you could borrow?"

Zo drew in a deep breath and got to his feet. He swayed and caught the back of the chair to stay upright.

"What is it?" Hylas strode toward him, hands going up instinctively.

"Dizzy spell. I—get them all the time. Half the reason why I use the crutch. I shouldn't—I was trying to do too much, and I didn't sleep well."

"Here." Hylas offered an arm, and Zo took it and let himself be led back to his bed.

He sat, then drew up his feet and lay down, curled up, looking miserable. Hylas moved the tray with the tea and buns to the floor. He filled a bowl and stood waiting with it until Zo opened his eyes.

"I'm making a lot of trouble for you this morning," Zo said unhappily.

"No. You're in need of help that I'm well able to provide. That … gives me great satisfaction."

Zo's smile dawned slow and exquisite. "Well, you're welcome, then."

He reached out a hand. Hylas tried to offer the bowl of tea, but Zo reached for his free hand instead, and for a moment just clasped Hylas's fingers. Zo's fingers were slim and cold. Surely it was the first time their hands had ever touched? Hylas returned the grasp for an instant, as long as he felt he deserved, then let go.

"Your hands are cold," he said. "You should drink some tea to warm yourself."

In the end, it was an oddly good day. Zo spent most of his time resting, while Hylas came and went, bringing in things from the marketplace and from elsewhere in the house, putting up curtains and arranging furniture. He detached the screen from the garden door and built a kind of stand for it so that it could be positioned to divide the room into a sitting area and a sleeping nook. He enlisted Theano's help, and they found cushions and a small table—it wobbled, but Hylas made it level with a wedge of folded paper, meticulously testing it until it didn't move even a little.

At lunchtime he got Zo up, and they ate with the rest of the companions. Everyone made a fuss about having the aqueduct man join them for a meal at last, and Zo felt rather smug when he thought of all the breakfasts he and Hylas had shared.

In the afternoon, as Hylas finished working on the room, Zo read aloud from The Bronze Dolphin. When the room had been fully transformed, curtains covering the storage on the wall, screen dividing the space, a cozy seating area created, Hylas came and sat beside Zo on his bed and took over reading. He had a flat, undramatic delivery, and for some reason, when he was reading, his Ariatan accent became stronger. Zo didn't mind. He lay back against his pillows, fantasizing about draping his legs over Hylas's lap, which was bittersweet because he knew he'd never actually do it.