David Wishart - In at the Death

The good of Rome.

Livia had used that phrase to me, too, a long, long time ago. She was out of the same mould, a real, hard-nosed, first-class bitch, a murderess a dozen times over, no argument; but again she’d done what she’d done because she’d genuinely cared. Maybe, now, with the principate of Gaius looming, I could even sympathise with Livia. Gaius didn’t care about anything, except himself.

Like I said, we were into a whole new ball-game. Yeah, in retrospect maybe I would’ve preferred it if Gaius and Macro had died. I suspected that, in a few months’ time, a couple of years at most, Rome in general would agree with me.

Still, like the man said, you can’t cheat the stars, and there ain’t no point in trying.

I picked up the wine-jug…

‘Marcus?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Perhaps this isn’t the time to mention it, but I was talking to Alexis earlier. Did you know that Placida was pregnant?’

The wine splashed on the table. ‘ What? ’

‘There are certain signs, apparently. Besides the obvious one, or prior to it rather. Eating the cucumber frame could be one of them, but Alexis wasn’t sure about that, he thought it might just be normal behaviour for Gallic boarhounds.’

I was goggling. ‘Eating the — ?’

‘- cucumber frame. Yes. Or most of it, anyway. In any case, he’s quite certain she’s pupping.’ Perilla looked down. ‘So I was wondering if…’

Shit; I knew what was coming, I just knew it! ‘Lady, read my lips: we are not having a dog, okay? Especially not a Mark Two Placida. With that thing’s predilections the father was probably star billing at the Games. Not necessarily canine, either.’

‘Don’t be silly, dear. And I’m sure Sestia Calvina wouldn’t mind parting with one of the litter if I asked her.’

‘Damn right she wouldn’t! In fact she probably…’ I stopped. Hell!

‘She probably what?’

Probably planned it from the start, that was what. Bugger! Felix hadn’t been the only one pulling strings in this case: we’d been manipulated again, right down the line! If Sestia bloody smart-as-paint Calvina hadn’t known the brute was pregnant when she stuck us with her then I was a blue-rinsed Briton. Yeah, well. You can’t cheat the stars, especially when they’ve got Perilla fighting their corner. And if the lady had decided we needed a dog — loosely speaking — then that was that. No point arguing, I’d only lose in the end anyway.

‘Calvina probably what?’ Perilla asked again. ‘Marcus!’

I grinned and finished pouring the wine. ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Besides, I couldn’t wait to tell Bathyllus.