Bulard reminded Hadrian of a long-haired cat, with his usually billowing robe and fluffy white hair deflated in the rain, leaving a remarkably thin body. He held up a withered hand to protect his eyes as he searched the trees.

“Another one of those wonderful long-beaked birds,” the historian said. “I love the way they hover.”

Hadrian smiled at him. “It’s not that you don’t mind the rain that amazes me. It’s that you don’t seem to notice it at all.”

Bulard frowned. “My parchments are a disaster. They stick together, the ink runs, I haven’t been able to write anything down, and as I mentioned at our first meeting, my head is no place to store memories of such wonderful things. It makes me feel like I’ve wasted my life locked in dusty libraries and scriptoriums. Don’t do what I did, Hadrian. You’re still a young man. Take my advice: live your life to the fullest. Breathe the air, taste the wine, kiss the girls, and always remember that the tales of another are never as wondrous as your own. I’ll admit I was, well, concerned about this trip. No, I’ll say it truthfully—I was scared. What does a man my age have to be afraid of, you wonder? Everything. Life becomes more precious when you have less of it to spare. I’m not ready to die. Why, look at all that I’ve never seen.”

“You have seen horses before, and known women, right?” Hadrian asked with a wry grin.

Bulard looked at him curiously. “I’m a historian, not a monk.”

Hadrian nearly tripped.

“I realize I don’t look it now, but I was quite handsome once. I was married three times, in fact. Outlived all of them, poor darlings. I still miss them, you know—each one. My silly little mind hasn’t misplaced their faces, and I can’t imagine it ever will. Have you ever been in love, Hadrian?”

“I’m not sure. How do you tell?”

“Love? Why, it’s like coming home.”

Hadrian considered the comment.

“What are you thinking?” Bulard asked.

Hadrian shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Yes, you were. What? You can tell me. I’m an excellent repository for secrets. I’ll likely forget, but if I don’t, well, I’m an old man in a remote jungle. I’m sure to die before I can repeat anything.”

Hadrian smiled, then shrugged. “I was just thinking about the rain.”