Pertinax stood up and stared at her. The child Telamonion pressed close to him holding his righthand, gazing at Marcia.
"Telamonion, go in and play with Narcissus," said Marcia. She pointed at the curtains and the child obeyed.
"Go in and kill him, Pertinax!" Marcia shook the list of names, then stood still suddenly, like a woman frozen, ash-white under the carmine on her cheeks.
There came a voice from the emperor's bedroom, more like the roar of an angry beast than human speech:
"Marcia! Do you hear me, Marcia? By all Olympus—Marcia!"
She opened the door. The inner room was in darkness. There came a gust of chill wet wind that made all the curtains flutter and there was a comfortless noise of cataracts of rain downpouring from the over-loaded gutters on to marble balconies. Then the emperor's voice again:
"Is that you, Marcia? You leave your Commodus to die of thirst! I parch—I have a fever—bring my wine-cup!"
"At once, Commodus."
She glanced at the golden cup on an onyx table. On a stand beside it was an unpierced wine jar set in an enormous bowl of snow. She looked at Pertinax—and shrugged her shoulders, possibly because the wind blew through the opened door. She glanced at Galen.
"If you have a fever, shouldn't I bring Galen?"