Steven Saylor - A Mist of Prophecies

Bethesda delivered this pronouncement in much the same fashion that she had announced her previous, sudden insights into a cure for her illness. How she arrived at these revelations, where the knowledge came from, and why she trusted it, I had no idea. I only knew that where once she had uttered, "Radishes!" and the household had gone on an expedition in search of radishes, now she uttered, "Egypt!"

A trip to Egypt would cure her-that, and only that.

"Why Egypt?" I asked.

"Because I came from Egypt. We all came from Egypt. Egypt is where all life began." She said this as if it were a fact that no one could possibly dispute, like saying, "Things fall down, not up," or, "The sun shines during the day, not at night."

I had thought she might say: Because Egypt is where we met, Husband. Egypt is where you found me and fell in love with me, and Egypt is where I intend to reclaim you and purify you of the transgression you committed with another woman. But that was not what she said, of course. Did she know about Cassandra? I thought not; she had been too preoccupied with her own illness.

Did Diana know? Not for certain, perhaps, but Diana had to suspect something. So far, she hadn't confronted or questioned me. If she had suspicions, she kept them to herself-more for her mother's sake, I suspected, than for mine. What was done was done, and the important thing was to keep peace in the household, at least until her mother got better.

"I must return to Alexandria," Bethesda announced at break fast one morning, and not for the first time. "I must bathe once more in the Nile, the river of life. In Egypt I shall either find a cure, or I shall find eternal rest."

"Mother, don't say that!" Diana put down her bowl of watery farina and gripped her stomach. Had her mother's words upset her digestion-or was Diana, too, falling prey to some malady? She was nauseous as many mornings as not. It seemed to me that a curse had fallen on all the women in my life.

This was the first time that Bethesda had explicitly mentioned the possibility of dying in Egypt. Was that the real point of the journey she insisted on making, and was all her talk of a cure a mere pretense? Did she know that she was dying, and did she wish to end her days in Alexandria, where her life had begun?

"We can't afford it," I said bluntly. "I wish we could, but-"

There was a noise at the front door, not a friendly or respectful knocking, but a loud, insistent banging. Davus frowned, exchanged a guarded look with me, and went to answer it.

A moment later he returned and spoke in my ear. "Trouble," he said.

"Stay here," I said to the others, and followed Davus to the foyer. I looked through the peephole. On my doorstep a pair of hulking giants flanked a small ferret of a man in a toga. The ferret saw my eye at the peephole and spoke up.

"It's no good hiding behind that door, Gordianus the Finder. A man can avoid the day of reckoning for only so long."

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my doorstep?" I asked, though I knew already. Since the annihilation of Caelius and Milo, the moneylenders and landlords of Rome reigned supreme. Any organized resistance to them had evaporated. Trebonius was said to favor creditors quite blatantly now in any negotiation he brokered between them and their debtors; those who had sought relief before the stillborn insurrection had received much better deals than those who were seeking relief now.

"I represent Volumnius," said the ferret, "to whom you owe the sum of-"

"I know exactly how much I owe Volumnius," I said.

"Do you? Most people have difficulty calculating the interest that accumulates. They almost always underestimate the amount. They don't understand that if they miss making even a single payment-"

"I haven't missed a payment. According to the agreement I made with Volumnius, the first installment isn't due-"

"— until tomorrow. Yes, this is merely a courtesy call to remind you. I presume you will have the first installment ready for me, first thing in the morning?"

I peered out the peephole at the faces of the ferret's two henchmen. Both had hands the size of small hams and small, beady eyes. They looked too slow and stupid to be gladiators. Their sort was good for only one thing, overpowering and intimidating victims smaller and weaker than themselves. The sum of their brainpower combined was probably below that of the average mule, but they could probably follow simple orders from the ferret-"Break this fellow's finger," say, or, "Break his arm," or, "Break both arms."

"Go away," I said. "Payment isn't due until tomorrow. You've no right to come harassing me today."

"Harassing you?" said the ferret, flashing a wicked smile. "If you call this harassment, citizen, then just wait until-"

I slammed shut the little hatch over the peephole. The noise it made was as feeble as I felt at that moment. "Go to Hades!" I shouted through the door.

I heard the ferret laugh, then bark an order at his henchmen to move on, then the sound of their footsteps receding.

Davus frowned. "What are we going to do if they come back tomorrow?"

"If they come back, Davus? I don't think there's any doubt about that."

We returned to the dining room. Bethesda looked at me expectantly. Diana, I noticed, looked first to Davus to ascertain his expression, and only then at me; further proof, if any was needed, that she was now more his wife than my daughter. That was only proper, but still it irked me. Hieronymus was eating the last of his farina very slowly and looking glum. Androcles and Mopsus, having risen and eaten before anyone else, were in the garden, where I had assigned them some tasks to work off their morning burst of energy. Through the window I could see them squabbling and pelting each other with pulled weeds, oblivious to the crisis in the household.

I opened my mouth to speak, but what was there to say? False words of reassurance? An abrupt change of subject? Or perhaps a resumption of the previous subject, namely the hopelessness of Bethesda's demand for a journey to Egypt? At that moment, nothing would have pleased me more than the prospect of a trip to Alexandria, or to any other place, as long as it was as far from Rome as possible.

I was spared from having to speak by an abrupt knock at the door. "Not again!" I muttered, stalking back to the foyer. I didn't bother with the peephole but threw back the bar and pulled open the door. Even the ferret and his henchmen wouldn't dare to attack a Roman citizen on his doorstep on the day before a loan came due. Or would they? I wondered if I could gouge out the ferret's eyes before the two giants had time to disable me…

"What are you doing back here?" I shouted. "I told you-"

The man on my doorstep stared at me blankly. I stared back at him just as blankly, until I recognized him. He was the personal secretary to Calpurnia who had called at my door previously.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, in a very different tone of voice.

"My mistress sent me. She wants to see you."

"Now?"

"As soon as possible. Before-"

"Before what?"

"Please, follow me and ask no questions."

I looked down at the old tunic I was wearing. "I shall have to change."

"No need for that. Please, come at once. And you might want to bring a bodyguard with you, for later."

"Later?"

"To walk you home safely. The streets are likely to be-well, you'll see." He smiled, and I had a glimmer of what he was trying to tell me, or more precisely, what he was trying not to tell me.

"Come along, Davus," I called over my shoulder. "We've been summoned by the first woman in Rome."

The slave led us across the Palatine Hill to the large house where Calpurnia was residing in her husband's absence. Even before we reached the house, I could see that the surrounding streets were busier than normal. Messengers were fanning outward from the house while men in togas were converging upon it. There was a sense of excitement, of a charge like lightning in the air. It intensified in the forecourt of the house, where men in small groups talked in hushed voices while slaves scurried to and fro. I recognized several senators and magistrates. Trebonius and Isauricus stood together off to one side, surrounded by their lictors. Something important had happened. The eyes and ears of all Rome were becoming trained upon this house.