“Batiatus flicked the fly-whisk about his neck, grimacing at the smell. “Jupiter’s cock, Albanus,” he muttered, “would your gods find offense if you cleansed them before display?” Albanus, a greasy little Syrian with beady black eyes, gave an elaborate shrug. “I provide private viewing as favor to valued customer. Such visits require preparations made in haste. Had I taken time to make scent sweeter, wind might have carried fragrance to others seeking purchase.” Batiatus sighed. ...“Would that the gods deliver a gale presently and sweep away smell of shit. They instead continue to rain it upon me, adding to the pile you stack before me.” “I seek only to serve the House of Batiatus, which stands foremost in all Capua. For no other would I favor to parade wares before bidding begins at market.” Batiatus gave a disbelieving grunt.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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