Steven Saylor - A murder on the Appian way

I shook my head. "No. I'm in much too good a mood to spoil it with unpleasant talk."

"Is it so painful for you to remember?" She drew her eyebrows together. It had to be a trick of the soft, filtered light that there was not a wrinkle on her face. "Gordianus, what are you grinning at?"

"The light inside this litter. The warmth of your body. That elusive, unforgettable scent of yours. Men live and die, nations rise and fall, but some things never change."

"Gordianus…"

"What an extraordinary woman you are, Clodia. Shall I live and die and never make love to you?"

"Gordianus!" Did she actually blush? No, that was impossible; Clodia was beyond blushing. It had to be a trick of the light, like the perfection of her skin. "Gordianus, I've come on behalf of Fulvia; you must know that." She tried to make her voice businesslike, but she couldn't help smiling.

"Is that what you told my wife, when she looked into the litter to say hello to you?"

"Of course. Then we talked about the weather. Don't you love an early spring?"

"My wife is a goddess, you know. Any mortal woman would be insanely jealous of you."

She tilted her head. "I agree, she must be divine; any man married to a mere mortal would have succumbed to me long ago. But I thought perhaps you considered me a goddess."

"Oh, no, Clodia. I most definitely consider you a woman. There is no question of that…"

We smiled at each other. Then our smiles wavered. A cloud obscured the sun, changing the light inside the litter. Neither of us looked away.

"Is something about to happen, Gordianus?" said Clodia. I hardly recognized her voice.

I took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. After a moment she pulled it away, able to read my touch. I shrugged. "If something were to happen between us, Clodia, then everything would change. The play of light inside this litter, the warmth of your body, that elusive, unforgettable scent. They would never be the same again, and I want them never to change."

She seemed to tremble, then laughed softly. "Men!" she said, in a disparaging but not unfriendly way. For a moment I thought I had hurt her, and felt a strange thrill. Then I realized I was being absurd. A few moments alone with Clodia could bring out the peacock in any man.

"What did you discover, then, on the Appian Way?" Her voice was casual again. "Anything new of importance?"

"I hardly know where to start. We're almost at Fulvia's house, aren't we? Why don't you come in with me, and listen along with Fulvia?"

The look on her face made, it clear that this was not possible. "Perhaps afterwards, on the way home, you can give me a private report," she said.

"Yes, if you wish."

Her litter deposited me on the steps leading up to the entrance. A guard showed me inside. The lofty rooms were still unfinished and haphazardly furnished. Without its master and its architect, the house of Clodius was frozen in time.

The room where Fulvia and her mother awaited me was brighter and warmer than before, but Sempronia still kept a blanket over her lap and gave me an icy look. I sensed that there were others in the room, and felt a unexpected thrill of relief as Fulvia introduced them.

"Gordianus, I think you already know FeUcia, keeper of the shrine of the Good Goddess on the Appian Way, and her brother Felix, attendant to the altar of Jupiter in Bovillae."

"You took my advice, then?" I said to Felicia.

"My brother and I discussed it for all of an hour, then gathered up what we needed and headed for Rome before dawn the next morning. We've hardly left this house since." Felicia was as striking as ever. Even as a suppliant in another woman's home she carried herself with the same intriguing, infuriating nonchalance.

"I won't let them leave," said Fulvia. "They're too valuable as witnesses. And too vulnerable; Milo must have heard by now that there were witnesses to his crimes. Felix and Felicia are safe with me, and quite comfortable."

"Quite, quite comfortable," agreed Felix, whose face looked fuller than I remembered it.

"Witnesses?" I said. "Is there to be a trial?"

"Oh, yes," said Fulvia. "There have been delays. Pompey had to reorganize the courts to his liking, and Milo has made a bigger spectacle of himself than he ever put on with his gladiators, stalling and blustering and using every kind of legal manoeuvre to wriggle his way out of the inevitable. But my nephew Appius is finally ready to bring the case. Once the charges are officially filed, it will be only a matter of days until we crush the bastard for good."

Sempronia ground her teeth and spat on the floor.

"We heard of your misfortune," said Fulvia.

"Please, as I just told your sister-in-law, I have no more stomach for talking about it."

"Good," said Fulvia bluntly. "I'm sick of mulling over misfortunes myself. It's the future I want to think about now. Felix, Felicia, please leave us." Felix crept out obsequiously. His sister followed behind him, flashing a very inappropriate smile at me.

Fulvia made a face. "What trash those people are! My skin crawls every time they're near me."

"The man eats like a pig," said Sempronia, "and the woman snoops everywhere, then pretends to be a halfwit when I catch her at it."

"litter trash!" declared Fulvia.

"I should think your late husband's wide circle of friends must have acquainted you with many people no better or worse," I said.

"Watch your tongue, Finder!" snapped Sempronia.

Fulvia waved a hand to caution her mother. "Gordianus is our guest. And we have unfinished business with him."

"Do we?" I said.

"I realize that you never formally agreed to the proposition I made

to you. Yet you set out to investigate my husband's death, anyway.

I suspect you must have been employed by a certain other person;

how else to explain the presence of his bodyguards at your house?

But in light of the fact that you directed valuable witnesses to come

to my house for protection — "

"I did it as much for their sake as for yours," I said:

She paused, taken aback by my bluntness. "Maybe so, but the

action still marks you as a friend to our cause. Did you accept my proposition, after all? Do you have anything to report to me?"

"About Marc Antony, you mean?" "Yes."

I hesitated. "What was the figure you promised?" She named the sum.

"I'll settle for half that amount," I said. "To make up the difference, I want you to give me two of your slaves."

She looked dubious. "If you're looking for more bodyguards, I should tell you that the best of my men are each worth considerably more than the sum I just named."

"No, Fulvia, it's not protectors I'm looking for. I only want two small boys who reside at your Alban villa. Brothers; their names are Mopsus and Androcles."

"What, the stableboys?"

Sempronia smirked. "Is that how your tastes run, Finder? Clodia must be telling the truth when she says that you've never tried to touch her, despite all her rubbing up against you."

I bit my tongue. I sighed and shrugged. "I can only say that I intend to put the boys to better use than you have, Fulvia. Did you realize that they saved your son's life when Milo and his men stormed the villa?"

"What, because they happened to be in that secret passageway with him and managed to keep from blubbering?"

"Is that how your son explained it? I think neither of you give the boys enough credit."

"They're only stableboys, Gordianus."

"Perhaps, but I'll wager that they grow up twice as clever and resourceful as anyone else in your household."

Fulvia raised an eyebrow. "If you want the two slaves as part of your payment, Gordianus, you may have them."

"Good. Shall I make my report?"

"Yes."

"Marc Antony had nothing whatever to do with your husband's death."