As Marus left Sophia’s apartment he heard the tinkle of the shouter’s bell.

“Hail, good praeco, what news have you?”

“Ah, Marus, good to see you well.” The praeco’s voice returned to normal speech level as he stopped his bell-ringing. “The news will stop the rioters. Justinian has seen reason and will again speak. He asks that every citizen come to the hippodrome at the sixth hour. All will be revealed.”

“That is good news. I tire of the chaos. Perhaps Justinian will yet be a loved emperor.”

“Oh, ho! That is to be seen. I only deliver the message. Good day to you.”

“And you also.”

The praeco commenced the bell ringing and his voice returned to full volume. “All citizens come to the hippodrome at the sixth hour. Justinian will again speak.”

Marus found he was stepping more lightly with this news. If Justinian has decided to capitulate, then things will return to normal. Rioters will return to their homes. Fear will vanish in the streets. Everyone will be safe. Sophia will be safe.

Sophia weighed heavily on Marus’ thoughts. He loved her, he was sure of that. If everything went back to normal he was sure he could find work in a rich senator’s home. Or that of a wealthy merchant. He would prepare meals for elaborate dinner parties. He would have assistants working for him. He could teach them what he knew of herbs and plants.

Belisarius had been good to him. From the moment he entered Dara that fateful day just four years ago, Belisarius had shown kindness to Marus. He remembered seeing Belisarius for the first time, a chance meeting outside the city when Marus was merely a boy collecting wild herbs. He had been startled by his approach and then wide eyed as he beheld Belisarius atop a magnificent horse, attired in military garb. Belisarius had spoken softly. “Young man, there is danger outside the walls of your city. What brings you forth?”

Marus had felt he was speaking to a god, suddenly descended to earth. “Um, I gather herbs for the cooking pot. My mother runs the best eating establishment in the city.”

“Is that so? Then I must meet your mother, as I come with troops to defend your city from the Persians.”

Marus could hear the slow hoof beat of many horses and the footfall of troops marching in unison. He suddenly felt small and vulnerable, standing in the field with a sling of wild parsley and other herbs for the stew he mother was preparing. He was unsure if this larger than life person was truly friendly to his city. He was formidable, but not menacing. There were no weapons. No lance in a sheath at the horse’s side. No shield. No visible daggers or blades. This person had the carriage of command. He was probably an aide to the army’s leader. Befriending him might bring business to his family. “I will take you to my mother’s eating place. It is inside the wall, near the city entrance. Perhaps your general will dine there as the army prepares for battle?”

Belisarius smiled. “Perhaps.”

At that moment a soldier on horseback rode up and saluted. “General, we await your orders for setting up camp.”

“The ridge, just there, with trees for cover. Arrange as we have spoken. The troops will be arriving in the next few days. My tent, toward the edge, for better view.”

Marus stared. This man was so young, yet he was obviously the leader.

“And have one of your soldiers accompany this young man” he nodded toward Marus, “to secure provisions for the officers.”

“Yes, my general.” He again saluted and rode back in the direction of the hoof beats.

“If you will wait until one of my assistants arrives you can show him how to find your mother’s establishment. Perhaps she can prepare a simple meal for me and my officers this evening?”

“Um… yes. I am sure she can.”

Belisarius rode off to greet his troops and direct the efforts of his men. Marus combed through the plants growing in the field and was able to locate more wild parsley and oregano. His mother would need more than he currently had to cook for the officers. Marus wanted to make a good impression. He did not have to wait long before a soldier, not much older than he walked up and inquired if he were the one whose mother was such a superior cook.  

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