Page 29 of The House of the Red Balconies

Hylas came into the government office to find it was payday. A pair of soldiers from the fort were there, accompanying a man from the purser’s office who was handing out money and ticking off names in a ledger. Most of the staff of the office had already received their pay, but there was still a queue of others waiting their turn.

“Should I line up?” Hylas asked, uncertain because this was not the way it had worked before.

“Oh,” said Dorios, one of the clerks. “I don’t know. Are you on the naval payroll? I wouldn’t have thought you were.”

“I’ve never dealt with anyone from the fort before,” Hylas agreed. Indeed, he’d been happy to have it that way. “But … ”

“But you haven’t been paid in a while?” Dorios winced. “I wondered about that, actually. We got one payment for you directly from the governor, shortly after you arrived, but we haven’t had anything else. You’re not in the budget.”

“Oh,” said Hylas. “What does that mean?”

“Probably that the governor is paying you out of his own purse. That first amount he gave you didn’t go through our ledgers either. The rest of us get paid by the navy, but I think you’re just working directly for Governor Loukianos.”

Something about the way he said this, with a slightly apologetic tone, made Hylas uneasy.

“You’ll have to go talk to him about it, I’m afraid,” Dorios said. “He’s probably just forgotten to pay you.”

This was just what Hylas had been hoping he could avoid. He didn’t want to demand pay for work that he hadn’t been doing—through no fault of his own, but still. He needed to pay rent, though.

Loukianos didn’t seem to be coming into the office that day, so Hylas made his way up the mountain to the governor’s mansion. He found Loukianos in his garden, and that provided an excuse to talk about something other than his nonexistent salary.

“Of course I’d be happy to show you my autumn routine, but … ” Loukianos’s smile was puzzled. “Why?”

“Oh, I’ve been doing some work in the garden of—the garden at my lodgings. My neighbour planted it, but he’s not always well enough to tend it, so I’ve been helping him.”

“Ah! Good man. And so you want some pointers?”

“Yes, I just thought I might be more use to him if I knew what I was doing. And, er, if I were able to make some suggestions for improvement … ” He shrugged, embarrassed.

Loukianos’s eyebrows rose. “Say no more. This neighbour is someone you want to impress, clearly. Is there a beautiful daughter, or … please say it’s not a neglected wife.”

“What? Oh! No no no—nothing of the sort, no, please don’t worry. I—I want to be a good friend, that’s all.”

That was true, but it also felt inadequate. The truth was, he felt a desire to repay Zo for something. What, exactly? Perhaps just for the beauty that Zo had brought into his life. Perhaps there was no better way of putting it.

He couldn’t help thinking again, as he followed Loukianos through the governor’s garden, listening to his description of all the work that needed to be done to prepare for winter, that it was a shame he couldn’t introduce Zo and Loukianos.

In the end, Hylas never did ask about his salary, but it was Loukianos who brought up the subject. In a way.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, “do you need any cash?”

“Er, well, I … ”

“My dear fellow, you’ve only to say! I’ll arrange something, not to worry. Any time you need a sum, just let me know. Better yet, you know you may always charge things to my account, anywhere on the island.”

“Thank you, sir. That is very generous of you.”

It was generous. It was also not at all the way Hylas wanted to proceed. He realized now, as he should have seen a long time ago, that the reason no salary had been mentioned when he first took this job was because Loukianos didn’t think in those terms. Maybe he thought Hylas was a man of independent means. Or maybe his idea was that Hylas would be his dependent, living off his bounty while the aqueduct project was in progress. He probably didn’t think in terms of paying rent, either, and if Hylas mentioned that his rent had recently increased, he’d find himself invited to move into the governor’s mansion. Hylas didn’t want that at all.

They went to the Amber Lily again that night, and Hylas tried to be pleased when the companion who had gossiped about the governor’s lover before attached himself to Loukianos and engaged him in conversation most of the evening. Perhaps they would both be happier for it; perhaps this young man would, after all, suit Loukianos better than Zo. Hylas noticed that Timon wasn’t there.

He’d had a chance to think about it more, and he’d decided that Loukianos’s failure to pay him a salary was likely deliberate. The governor wanted the aqueduct to be seen as his gift to the island; he couldn’t make that point so effectively by simply putting an engineer on the navy’s payroll. He needed Hylas to be his man, his crony, in some kind of patronage relationship with him. He probably wouldn’t have minded if he’d known that he and Hylas were rumoured to be a couple.

The courtyard of the Red Balconies was empty when he arrived home, the first time that had happened. It was bitterly cold.

“They’re all entertaining in their rooms,” Ahmos told him as Hylas stood looking around in surprise.

“Oh. How’s that going?”