Steven Saylor - A Mist of Prophecies

"People change."

"No, Gordianus, people never change; only their roles change. And Cassandra would have been miscast as a black mailer. Still, I can't entirely rule it out."

"And if Antonia thought she was a black mailer, then so might someone else. True or not, that might have provided the motive for someone to kill her. What do you know about her death, Cytheris?"

"Only what everyone seems to know, that she collapsed in the market and died in your arms. When I learned the news, I wept. Poor Cassandra! The gossips say that she was poisoned. Was she? Knowing what I did about her past, I had to wonder if one of her seizures had finally proved too much for her. Was it the falling sickness that killed her?"

I shook my head. "No, she was poisoned. Someone murdered Cassandra. Do you have any idea who might have done that, Cytheris?"

"Other than Antonia? No."

I nodded. "What about Rupa? What can you tell me about him?"

Antonia smiled. "Dear, sweet Rupa. I expected to see him at Cassandra's funeral, but he wasn't there, was he?"

"No. Nor did he ever come to my house to see her body. He seems to have disappeared entirely since Cassandra died."

"I certainly haven't seen him," said Cytheris. "He must be in hiding, fearful of sharing Cassandra's fate. Poor thing. It's hard to imagine how he could get along without her. They loved each other so very much."

I frowned. "What was he to Cassandra?"

"She never told you?"

I shook my head.

"Rupa was her younger brother, of course! Couldn't you see the resemblance between them? He was with her when Cassandra joined the mime troupe in Alexandria; the master saw fit to purchase them together rather than separate them. A wise move on his part, as Cassandra would have been devastated to lose her little brother. Rupa earned his keep; he even did a bit of acting himself. Nothing that required much talent, or any spoken lines, of course. He was always big, even from an early age, so he played silent guards and hulking gladiators and grunting monsters. He made a very convincing Cyclops in a skit we did about Ulysses. I played Circe. Cassandra played Calypso…"

I sighed. "I always thought of Rupa as her bodyguard."

"Which he was. But mostly she protected him. It was always so. Rupa may be big and strong, but the ways of the world overwhelm him, and his muteness is a great handicap. From childhood Cassandra was always looking out for him, taking care of him. I wasn't at all surprised when she told me she had brought Rupa with her to Rome. It's hard to imagine how he could have survived alone in Alexandria. It's hard to imagine how he's surviving now without her. Or do you think-"

"What?"

"Perhaps Rupa is dead, too," she said quietly.

From the foyer there came the sound of a knock on the door. Chrysippus went to answer it, then returned. "Volumnius, mistress," he said.

Cytheris gave a sigh of mingled indulgence and exasperation. "Tell him to leave his army of bodyguards outside, and show him in."

A few moments later, a corpulent figure came shuffling into the garden. Famous for wearing showy jewelry, on this occasion the banker Volumnius was notably bereft of ornament-no bracelets, no necklaces, no ring except a plain iron ring of citizenship. In such turbulent times, even a man as notoriously ostentatious as Volumnius knew better than to flaunt his wealth in the streets.

"Cytheris, my rosebud!" he cried. She stood to greet him and submitted to a kiss on her cheek from his fleshy lips.

"But I see you have guests." Volumnius looked askance at Davus and me. I stood and gestured to Davus to do likewise.

"Gordianus and his son-in-law were just about to leave," said Cytheris.

"Gordianus? I know the name. Have we met?"

"No," I said, "but I've dealt with your agents."

"Ah, yes. You're another of the fine citizens to whom I've extended a helping hand in recent months. I'm only too happy, in such trying times, to find that I can be of assistance to so many of my fellow Romans."

My loans from Volumnius, as crushing as they were to me, were surely so insignificant in his account books that I was surprised he knew of them. Did he stay apprised of every loan authorized by his agents, no matter how small? Perhaps. People said there was an invisible thread attached to every sesterce that left his greedy fist.

"I'm grateful for your assistance, Volumnius," I said. "And even more grateful for your patience. Times are such that even men of goodwill may not be able to meet all their obligations, at least for a while."

"Indeed, citizen, patience is a virtue-to a point. And mine will extend exactly as long as this damnable business with Caelius and Milo remains unresolved. After that, once things are back to normal…" He shrugged, which made his shoulders jiggle. "Eventually, obligations must be met. Order must be maintained. Property rights must be respected and loans repaid. Wise Caesar says so." He smiled and took Cytheris's much smaller hand in his and kissed it. In that instant I understood why he had agreed to make Cytheris a freedwoman at the request of the love-struck Antony. To please Caesar's lieutenant was to please Caesar. Her manumission was nothing more or less than a business decision.

"As Cytheris says, Davus and I were just leaving. Good-bye, Cytheris. Good day, Volumnius."

"And good day to you, citizen. Be wise and prosper-so that you may meet your obligations when the day of reckoning arrives."

The fifth time I saw Cassandra was late in the month of Maius. Almost a month had passed since the attempted arrest of Marcus Caelius and his hairbreadth escape, but all Rome was still in an uproar.

Rumors abounded. Some said Caelius had gone off to join Caesar, but it was hard to imagine how he could do so after the insinuations he had made against Caesar in his speeches; was he so rash as to think he could win Caesar's forgiveness by charm alone? Some said that Caelius had not escaped after all but had been arrested, and was being held at a secret location while Isauricus decided what to do with him. Others said that Caelius had indeed escaped but was still in the city, hiding with a band of conspirators who were plotting to assassinate all the magistrates and most of the Senate.

Some said Caelius had gone south to set free a school of gladiators in the vicinity of Mount Vesuvius, with the intention of returning to Rome and staging a massacre. Others said Caelius had gone north to try to rally various cities to his cause, hoping to win them over one by one until he felt confident of marching on Rome with an army of volunteers. From the Forum, Hieronymus reported this remark by Volcatius, leader of the Pompeian chin-waggers: "If Caelius has his way, the rabble of Rome will soon be kicking the heads of their landlords and moneylenders through the streets!"

Yet another rumor said that Caelius was planning to rendezvous with his old friend Milo, and that the two of them were going to sweep across Italy together. To my ears this was the wildest speculation of all. In his days as Cicero's protege, Caelius had indeed been friends with Milo, but in recent years their politics had drifted so far apart that it seemed impossible that the two could ever reunite in a common cause.

Before his forced departure from Rome, Titus Annius Milo had been the man upon whom the self-styled Best People relied to do their dirty business. As Clodius had ruled the street gangs on the left, so Milo had ruled the street gangs on the right. When a conservative magistrate wanted to break up a demonstration by the opposition, or needed demonstrators of his own to agitate in the Forum, Milo was the man who could produce angry crowds, bloody fists, and a few cracked skulls.

Pompey, who liked to hold himself aloof from the gritty political reality of street brawls, had looked to Milo to act as his henchman. Cicero had doted upon Milo, and saw him as his brutish alter ego; Cicero had the brains, while Milo wielded the brawn. For his efforts Milo was well rewarded by the Best People. He was admitted into their inner circle; he was a man headed for great things. With his marriage to Fausta, the daughter of the late dictator Sulla, his ascent into the highest ranks of Rome's ruling class seemed assured.