Read Online Laughing Wolf by Nicholas Maes - Free Book Online Page B

toga?” Carolyn asked, inspecting her clothes with a hint of suspicion.
    â€œWomen don’t wear togas,” the professor replied. “And that’s why I have provided you with a palla , or cloak. You’ll also find calcei , or leather sandals. As far as indumenta , or undergarments are concerned, we’ll dispense with the licium , an uncomfortable loincloth, and you’ll wear our modern products instead. If you’re asked about these, you’ll say they are worn in Prytan.”
    â€œWhy do I smell cinnamon?” Felix asked. He was sniffing a leather pouch.
    With an elfish smile, the professor explained he’d had a stroke of genius. If the pair of them got delayed in the past, they would need some type of currency. Gold was impossible — the TPM would reject it — so something else would have to serve in its place.
    â€œWhy cinnamon?” Carolyn asked.
    â€œBecause back then cinnamon was very precious. A single pinch will buy you a bed for the night.”
    Rising from his seat, he said they should go to their quarters and try their outfits on; quickly, too, as they would be leaving soon. He removed his glasses and polished the lenses, resembling a mole as he eyed them both.
    â€œI envy you,” he said. “To think that you will escape our modern machines to gaze upon the Romans sends shivers up my spine. But be very careful. These people are as brutal as they are civilized.”
    The pair nodded. Shaking hands with him, they took their bundles and left the room. As they headed toward two changing rooms, both were thinking the moment of truth was approaching. They were wondering, too, if they would get along: Carolyn found Felix odd, while Felix found Carolyn brash and pushy. On the other hand, they were glad they wouldn’t be travelling solo.
    In his room, Felix stripped down to his Protek underwear and reached for the tunic, which was two linen squares sewn simply together, with two rough holes for his arms and head. Pulling on the garment, he bunched its folds around his waist and tied these in place with a thin, leather strap. His feet groped for the sandals, which fitted him well — instead of buckles, there were straps that he could tighten at will. That left him with the toga.
    He was acquainted with togas because he had woven one once, just to see what the effect would be. It was two metres long and a metre wide, with three straight sides and a semi-circular one. The trick was to secure one end to the shoulder and wrap its length maybe twice around the waist, draping the loose end in the crook of one’s arm. It took him half-a-dozen attempts before he felt its folds were decently arranged. As an article of dress it was ridiculous and cumbersome.
    He had barely finished dressing when a knock rang out. A moment later, General Manes walked into the room.
    â€œHello, sir,” Felix spoke. “What do you think? Does the toga suit me?”
    â€œVery much so,” the general replied, attempting a smile but barely succeeding.
    â€œIs it time?”
    â€œI’m afraid so. Carolyn is waiting at the TPM and I decided to escort you myself.”
    â€œI see. That’s kind of you.”
    Following the general, Felix stepped into the hallway, his movements uncertain because the toga kept slipping. As they proceeded to the Vacu-lift, he could sense the general had something to say, but that he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.
    â€œIs something on your mind, sir?” he prodded him.
    â€œYou’re intuitive,” the general said with approval. “That’s one advantage of being ERR-free. I’m worried about my daughter, of course. Since her mother’s death four years ago, she is all I’ve got. She means the moon and sun to me.”
    â€œI’ll do my best to keep her safe,” Felix promised. “Although she seems pretty good at looking after herself.”
    â€œTrue enough,” the general