Rosemary Rowe - The Chariots of Calyx

If I had a son like Filius, I though sourly, I would have had him ‘cast down’ long ago, preferably from some very high place, like the Tarpeian rock. However, I could not say that to Lydia. I did say, civilly enough, ‘I take it, lady, that since you were also in the annexe last night, you did not see or hear anything yourself?’

‘Nothing at all, citizen.’

‘And you have no idea who might have killed your husband?’

Her mouth hardened. ‘You know what Annia Augusta thinks,’ she said primly.

‘I was asking you, madam citizen,’ I said.

She flushed at this. ‘I have no other suggestions to make. Annia may well be right, but I know no more about it than she does. I was with her all the evening, as I am sure she’s told you.’

‘And you noticed nothing unusual earlier in the day?’ I was thinking about the sleeping potion in the servants’ wine.

She shook her head. ‘Monnius had a feast,’ she said, as though that explained everything. ‘So naturally Annia and I kept well away.’

‘And Filius? He was not invited?’

She gave a sigh. ‘I wanted his father to invite him, but Monnius refused. Banquets were for real men, he said, and Filius was still nothing but a spoiled child. He was always saying that, although Filius had his manhood ceremony almost a month ago. Monnius blamed me — said that I indulged the boy too much.’ Two small red spots of colour touched her sallow cheeks, but — in contrast to Fulvia — the effect was disagreeable. ‘Perhaps I did. I wish his father had taken more interest in his education.’

‘Monnius had no hand in his upbringing?’ I was surprised. After a divorce many fathers kept their male heirs — if not their daughters — in their own households, sometimes to be raised by their grandmothers. Of course! As soon as I thought of that, I knew what the answer would be.

‘Annia Augusta insisted that the boy was best with me. Monnius paid for his schooling, of course, but Filius, poor lamb, was never a great scholar. He has had several tutors, but none of them really suited him. Filius has always had a delicate temperament.’

I nodded in what I hoped was an understanding manner, but inwardly all my sympathy was for the tutors. Young Filius’ sulky, bovine face did not exactly suggest a lively intellect, much less a consuming interest in rhetoric and oratory. Any paedogogus engaged to teach him must have had an unenviable task.

I dragged the subject back to the night before. ‘Filius knew Fortunatus?’ I said.

Lydia’s pale face lit up. ‘Filius is like any boy of his age, citizen. He is a passionate supporter of chariot racing. My father used to take us to the circus, when the boy was young — of course it was a place where I could go with them. I never cared for it — the crowds, the danger and the speed — but Filius always loved it. I remember when he was quite small, he had a little wooden model of a horse, and he tied a blue ribbon round its neck and had a slave push it round the floor for hours. Filius would make him tip it over, and make it crash — just like the real thing. He would even lay little bets on it with stones. Of course there was only one horse in the race, so Filius always won.’

My tolerance for Filius anecdotes was limited. I said, ‘And Fortunatus?’

‘Filius supported the Blues, so Fortunatus was halfway to a god to him. When Annia brought us to this house to live, and Filius learned that Fortunatus sometimes came here to dine, naturally the poor boy wanted to meet his idol face to face. Monnius refused at first — I always suspected that Fulvia put him up to it — but poor little Filius begged and wept. He was so upset that he refused to eat, and even Monnius weakened in the end.’

So Filius had thrown temper tantrums till he got his way. I could imagine that. ‘Did he see him often after that?’

Lydia’s face softened. ‘I will say this for Fortunatus, he was always kind to my boy. He made a point of talking to him whenever he saw him, and Filius used to lie in wait for him. He was a real fan. He even keeps one of Fortunatus’ broken boots beside his bed. Though I don’t think Fortunatus really welcomes it. I think he was more concerned with standing well in Monnius’ eyes.’

‘And in Fulvia’s?’ I said. It was cruel, but I needed to find out.

Lydia looked at me with such reproach that I quite regretted my words. ‘On the contrary, citizen. She was impatient of the whole affair. She thought that Filius was “being indulged as usual”. She made no secret of the fact. It is hardly surprising. Fulvia has always resented me and my poor boy.’

‘Just as she resented your necklace,’ I said. She looked a little startled and I added, ‘You have one just like hers, I believe, that Annia Augusta gave you?’

She raised one hand inside her cloak and pulled aside the neck of it. ‘This one, citizen?’ She indicated a triple chain exactly like the one Fulvia had shown me, hidden by the folds of her dress.

I must have looked surprised. It is not usual for women to wear such adornments when they are in mourning. She let the cloak fall back and raised her bony chin defiantly, and for a fleeting second I saw a resemblance to Filius. ‘Annia Augusta gave it to me, citizen, but Monnius chose the pattern. That is why I elect to wear it now. I have nothing else to remind me of my husband — everything that was not my dowry I had to leave behind when he divorced me. So I wear this. No one can see it, it is nearest to my heart, and I intend to wear it in his honour till I die. Not even Fulvia can take that from me.’ Despite the whining, wheedling voice she spoke with so much feeling that I felt a fleeting sympathy for her.

‘And yet you were a friend to her?’ I said gently. ‘Making a sleeping potion for her when she needed it?’

Lydia’s sallow face turned the colour of brick. ‘She has never been a friend of mine, citizen, and I have never knowingly sold to her outright. I have sold things to her old nurse once or twice — I didn’t ask who they were for. Many people come here to buy remedies from me and her money was as good as anyone else’s.’

Hardly how Fulvia had described matters, I thought. ‘Did Monnius know about this trade in remedies?’

She looked affronted. ‘Naturally, citizen — he laughed at me for it, sometimes, but he knew. And Annia Augusta too. She was rather proud of my skills — she taught me all I know. I have no money of my own, and naturally Monnius gives me — gave me — no allowance now. .’ She trailed off. ‘My remedies earn me a few sesterces now and then, that’s all, to buy bear’s fat and lamp-black for my lashes, or white lead and Illyrian irises for my complexion. Not that it did me any good — Monnius said it was like trying to paint over crumbling plaster.’ The red spots were burning in her cheeks again. ‘And now, citizen, you really must excuse me. I must go to Filius. He is upset, and he could easily do something to disrupt the ritual again. We should have to begin the ceremonies all over from the beginning, and think what a dreadful omen that would be.’

She clasped her bat-like cloak about her, and flapped away in the direction of the atrium.

Junio watched her go. ‘What will you do now, master?’ he enquired. ‘You wished to speak to the others in the household?’

I shook my head. ‘I do not think we have the time. You have told me most of what I wanted to know. I have spoken to Lydia and to Filius now, and with all this in progress’ — I gestured towards the inner rooms where we could still hear the lamentations rising — ‘I doubt if we can achieve much more here at present. I might inspect the study, perhaps.’

Junio grinned. ‘Lists of corn-dealers and suppliers, contracts for shipment and storage, and agreements for buying and selling grain. I had a quick look around the shelves while we were waiting for you.’