"I still think it's a curse, young fellow, but I'll try your scheme. I've tried everything from a couple of Greek physicians to one of St. Ignatius' teeth, and none of them works." He hesitated. 'If you don't mind, what were you in your own country?"
Padway thought quickly, then remembered the few acres he owned in downstate Illinois. "I had a farm," he said.
"That's fine," roared the Goth, clapping Padway on the back with staggering force. "I'm a friendly soul but I don't want to get mixed up with people too far above or below my own class, ha, ha! My name is Nevitta; Nevitta Gummund's son. If you're passing up the Flaminian Way sometime, drop in. My place is about eight miles north of here."
"Thanks. My name is Martin Padway. Where would be a good place to rent a room?"
"That depends. If I didn't want to spend too much money I'd pick a place farther down the river. Plenty of boarding houses over toward the Viminal Hill. Say, I'm in no hurry; I'll help you look." He whistled sharply and called: "Hermann, hiri her!"
Hermann, who was dressed much like his master, got up off the curb and trotted down the street leading two horses, his leather pants making a distinctive flop-flop as he ran.
Nevitta set out at brisk walk, Hermann leading the horses behind. Nevitta said: "What did you say your name was?"
"Martin Padway—Martinus is good enough." (Padway properly pronounced it Marteeno.)
Padway did not want to impose on Nevitta's good nature, but he wanted the most useful information he could get. He thought a minute, then asked: "Could you give me the names of a few people in Rome, lawyers and physicians and such, to go to when I need them?"
"Sure. If you want a lawyer specializing in cases involving foreigners, Valerius Mummius is your man. His office is alongside of the AEmliian Basilica. For a physician try my friend Leo Vekkos. He's a good fellow as Greeks go. But personally I think the relic of a good Arian saint like Asterius is as effective as all their herbs and potations."