Read Online Fists of Iron: Barbarian of Rome Chronicles Volume Two by Nick Morris - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nick Morris
Tags: Fiction
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The physician was occupied stitching the leg of a black skinned gladiator who lay prone on a large wooden table that commanded the centre of the room. He did not seem to hear Belua and his companion enter. Belua cleared his throat to get his attention again.
“You can see that I’m busy, can’t it wait Belua?” The physician’s words were clipped, and he didn’t look up from his work.
“It’s a private matter…and important,” replied Belua.
The physician glanced around. Dark, serious eyes scanned Belua above pointed cheekbones, the jaw firm below hollow cheeks. Taut skin was salt-sprinkled with short whiskers. It was a distinguished face, suggesting wisdom. He looked from Belua to Clodian.
“So, I’ve an audience too,” he stated.
“This is Clodian, son of Gaius Caesilius Ralla, who I told you about,” said Belua, before adding, “and, this is our good physician, Neo.” When he turned to Clodian, he found the youth staring with interest at the map of the human torso.
“This is wonderful, who drew this?” Clodian asked, preoccupied.
“Me,” said the physician, who, having finished his task straightened up, arching the stiffness from his back. He handed the gladiator a small jar, adding, “Apply once a day, and come back in four days and I will remove the thread. If the wound starts to smell or bleeds yellow muck come back immediately.” Nodding his acknowledgement, the gladiator limped from the room without comment. The physician washed his hands in a nearby bowl of clean water. Once dried, he walked past Belua to stand by Clodian who was still studying the map.
“Do you understand what you study so closely?” the tall physician asked.
“I believe it marks out the vessels that carry the blood around the body as well as the shape of the bones and muscles under the skin. I’m not sure what these smaller lines are, but I expect that they must have an important function.”
“A very good answer,” said the physician. “It’s my belief that these smaller lines carry messages to all parts of the body. If damaged, a limb can become useless as a result.”
Belua watched as Neo explained in detail certain parts of the body map. Clodian stood as if entranced, listening intently to the physician’s every word. Belua was a little surprised as he studied the pair, knowing that Neo rarely took time from his duties to expand on such matters. The diligent, skilful physician was a man of few words and as prickly as a briar rose. Belua had known him for over ten years and had felt the sharp lash of his tongue more than once when he’d disturbed him at work. Belua coughed, an exaggerated gesture to get his attention. The physician turned around, looking vexed by the interruption. Belua braced himself.
“Well,” the physician prompted. “Out with it, I have other duties that will not see to themselves.”
“Would you visit Prudes with me?" Belua understood that being direct was the best strategy. Neo frowned, and Belua noticed that his greying hair was receding, accentuating his high forehead. Gods, the serious bastard is getting old. We both are.
“Is it his arm?”
“Partly,” said Belua. “I’ve heard that he’s fallen on hard times, and I have an offer of work for him – to teach Clodian the short sword. I know he’s been avoiding me.” He glanced towards Clodian who was still studying the wall map.
“I have not seen him since his last visit to the ludu s, not long after the training accident,” said Neo, his expression a little softer. “I told him that his arm had been cut too badly to heal, and that in time it would wither. He would not accept it. “
“Can you do anything for him?”
“I would advise taking the arm off, as it’s dead and of no use. But, his mind I cannot mend.”
“Leave his mind to me,” said Belua. “Can you come today?”
“I have another two men to see and then I can accompany you. But, if he agrees to the arm coming off, we will
The physician was occupied stitching the leg of a black skinned gladiator who lay prone on a large wooden table that commanded the centre of the room. He did not seem to hear Belua and his companion enter. Belua cleared his throat to get his attention again.
“You can see that I’m busy, can’t it wait Belua?” The physician’s words were clipped, and he didn’t look up from his work.
“It’s a private matter…and important,” replied Belua.
The physician glanced around. Dark, serious eyes scanned Belua above pointed cheekbones, the jaw firm below hollow cheeks. Taut skin was salt-sprinkled with short whiskers. It was a distinguished face, suggesting wisdom. He looked from Belua to Clodian.
“So, I’ve an audience too,” he stated.
“This is Clodian, son of Gaius Caesilius Ralla, who I told you about,” said Belua, before adding, “and, this is our good physician, Neo.” When he turned to Clodian, he found the youth staring with interest at the map of the human torso.
“This is wonderful, who drew this?” Clodian asked, preoccupied.
“Me,” said the physician, who, having finished his task straightened up, arching the stiffness from his back. He handed the gladiator a small jar, adding, “Apply once a day, and come back in four days and I will remove the thread. If the wound starts to smell or bleeds yellow muck come back immediately.” Nodding his acknowledgement, the gladiator limped from the room without comment. The physician washed his hands in a nearby bowl of clean water. Once dried, he walked past Belua to stand by Clodian who was still studying the map.
“Do you understand what you study so closely?” the tall physician asked.
“I believe it marks out the vessels that carry the blood around the body as well as the shape of the bones and muscles under the skin. I’m not sure what these smaller lines are, but I expect that they must have an important function.”
“A very good answer,” said the physician. “It’s my belief that these smaller lines carry messages to all parts of the body. If damaged, a limb can become useless as a result.”
Belua watched as Neo explained in detail certain parts of the body map. Clodian stood as if entranced, listening intently to the physician’s every word. Belua was a little surprised as he studied the pair, knowing that Neo rarely took time from his duties to expand on such matters. The diligent, skilful physician was a man of few words and as prickly as a briar rose. Belua had known him for over ten years and had felt the sharp lash of his tongue more than once when he’d disturbed him at work. Belua coughed, an exaggerated gesture to get his attention. The physician turned around, looking vexed by the interruption. Belua braced himself.
“Well,” the physician prompted. “Out with it, I have other duties that will not see to themselves.”
“Would you visit Prudes with me?" Belua understood that being direct was the best strategy. Neo frowned, and Belua noticed that his greying hair was receding, accentuating his high forehead. Gods, the serious bastard is getting old. We both are.
“Is it his arm?”
“Partly,” said Belua. “I’ve heard that he’s fallen on hard times, and I have an offer of work for him – to teach Clodian the short sword. I know he’s been avoiding me.” He glanced towards Clodian who was still studying the wall map.
“I have not seen him since his last visit to the ludu s, not long after the training accident,” said Neo, his expression a little softer. “I told him that his arm had been cut too badly to heal, and that in time it would wither. He would not accept it. “
“Can you do anything for him?”
“I would advise taking the arm off, as it’s dead and of no use. But, his mind I cannot mend.”
“Leave his mind to me,” said Belua. “Can you come today?”
“I have another two men to see and then I can accompany you. But, if he agrees to the arm coming off, we will
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