Steven Saylor - Arms of Nemesis

Metrobius raised an eyebrow and looked at me shrewdly. 'Well, Gordianus of Rome, you may be more perceptive than I thought. What are these weaknesses evinced by Crassus and his lieutenant?'

I shrugged. 'I don't yet know enough about either of them to say.'

Metrobius nodded. 'Search and you may find, Finder. But enough about those two.' He rolled over and allowed the slave to stretch his arms above his head. 'Let's change the subject.'

'Perhaps you could tell me something about Lucius and Gelina. I understand that you and Gelina are very close friends.'

'We are.'

'And Lucius?'

'Didn't you just come from viewing Iaia's painted room?' 'Yes.'

'Then you must have seen his portrait.' 'Oh?'

'The jellyfish, just above the door.' 'What? Oh, I see, you're joking.'

'I'm not. Have a good look at it the next chance you get. The body is that of a jellyfish, but the face is quite unmistakably Lucius. It's in the eyes. A brilliant piece of satire, all the more satisfying because Lucius himself would never have got the joke. It elevates the whole mural to the level of high art. Iaia was once called the finest portraitist in Rome, and for good reason.'

'Then Lucius was a jellyfish?'

He snorted. 'A more useless man I never met. A mere footrest for Crassus, though a footrest might have had more personality. He's better off dead than alive.'

'Yet Gelina loved him.'

'Did she? Yes, I suppose she did. "Love turns a blind eye," as the Etruscans say.'

'I was just thinking of that proverb myself. But I suppose Gelina is by nature an emotional woman. She certainly seems distraught about the fate of her slaves.'

, He shrugged. 'If Crassus insists on killing them, it's a stupid waste, but I'm sure he'll give her others. Crassus owns more slaves than there are fish in the sea.'

'It impresses me that Gelina was able to convince Crassus to send a ship for me.'

'Gelina?' Metrobius smiled oddly. 'Yes, it was Gelina who first mentioned your name, but by herself I doubt that she could have talked Crassus into going to so much effort and expense on account of mere slaves.'

'What do you mean?'

'I thought you knew. There is another who longs to see these slaves plucked from the jaws of death.' 'Whom do you mean?'

'Who journeyed all the way to Rome just to fetch you?'

'Marcus Mummius? A man who would drive a whole ship of slaves to the point of death on a mere whim? Why would he lift a finger to save Gelina's slaves, especially in defiance of Crassus's will?'

Metrobius looked at me oddly. 'I thought surely you knew. When you spoke of Mummius having a weakness…' He frowned. 'You disappoint me, Finder. I think perhaps you are as dense as I originally thought. You were sitting beside me at dinner last night. You saw as clearly as I did the tears that sprang from Mummius's eyes when the slave boy sang. Do you think he wept for cheap sentiment? A man like Mummius weeps only because his heart is breaking.'

'You mean-'

'The other day, when Crassus made up his mind that the slaves should die, they argued and argued. Mummius was practically on his knees, begging Crassus to make an exception. But Crassus insists that they shall all be punished, including the beautiful Apollonius, no matter how harmless or innocent the boy may be, and no matter how much Mummius desires him. And so, the day after the funeral, Marcus Mummius will have to watch as his own men herd the boy into the arena and put him to death along with the rest of the household slaves. I wonder if they'll behead them one by one? Surely not, it would take all afternoon, and even a jaded Baian audience would start to fidget. Perhaps they'll have the gladiators do the dirty work, trapping the slaves under nets and rushing at them with spears

'Then Mummius wishes to save them all, simply for the sake of Apollonius?'

'Of course. He's quite willing to make a fool of himself on the boy's behalf. It all began on his last visit here with Crassus, back in the spring. Mummius was instantly smitten, like a stag struck with an arrow between the eyes. During the summer he actually wrote the boy a letter from Rome. Lucius intercepted it and was quite disgusted.'

'Because the letter was pornographic?'

'Pornography, from Mummius? Please, I'm sure he has neither the imagination nor the literary skill. On the contrary, it was quite chaste and cautious, rather like an epistle from Plato to one of his students, full of pious praise for Apollonius's spiritual wisdom and his transcendent beauty, that sort of thing.'

'But Lucius married for love. I should think he might have sympathized.'

'It was the impropriety of it that scandalized Lucius. A citizen consorting with one of his own slaves is one thing; it need never be known. But a citizen writing letters to another man's slave is an embarrassment to everyone. Lucius complained to Crassus, who must have said something to Mummius, since there was never a second letter. But Mummius remained smitten. He wanted to buy Apollonius for himself, but to do that required going through both Lucius and Crassus. One or the other refused to sell — perhaps Lucius, to spite Mummius, or perhaps Crassus, wanting to avoid further embarrassments from his lieutenant.'

'And now Mummius finds himself awaiting the slave's destruction.'

'Yes. He's tried to hide his anguish from Faustus Fabius and the rest of Crassus's retinue, and most of all from the men under his command, but everyone knows. Rumours spread very quickly in a small, private army. It was quite a spectacle to hear him prostrating himself before Crassus in the library the other day, scrambling to come up with the most ludicrous arguments to save Apollonius-'

'This was behind closed doors, I assume?'

'Can I help it if I could hear every word through the windows that face the courtyard? Mummius pleaded for the boy's life; Crassus invoked the stern majesty of Roman law. Mummius argued for an exception; Crassus told him to stop playing the fool. I believe he even called Mummius 'unRoman' at one point, the direst insult a stolid soldier like Mummius can receive from his commander. If you think Gelina is distraught, you should have heard Mummius that day. I can't imagine how he will react when a Roman blade cuts into the tender young flesh of Apollonius and the pretty slave begins to bleed…' Metrobius slowly shut his eyes, and a strange expression settled on his face.

'You're smiling,' I whispered.

'And why not? Mollio gives the finest massage on the Cup. I feel quite delicious, and am ready for my bath.'

Metrobius stood and held his arms aloft while the slave wound the long towel around him. I sat up and mopped my perspiring forehead. 'Do I only imagine it,' I said quietly, 'or are there those in this house who actually look forward to seeing the slaves executed? A Roman seeks justice, not vengeance.'

Metrobius did not answer, but slowly turned and left the room.

'A pity you're no better at swimming than I am,' I said to Eco as we left the baths. He gave me a pained look but did not dispute the fact. 'Our next task must be to have a look at the waters around the boathouse. What was being dumped from the pier last night, and why?' I looked down from the terrace outside the baths. From where we stood I could see the boathouse and most of the pier. There was no one about. The coastline was dotted with craggy rocks, and the water looked sufficiently deep to be daunting. 'I wonder if that boy Meto is a swimmer? He probably grew up here on the Cup; aren't all the local boys divers and swimmers, even the slaves? If we can find him quickly, perhaps we can explore the boathouse and its environs before time for the midday meal.' We found him on the upper floor. When he saw us he smiled and came running.

I began to speak, but he seized my hand and tugged at it. 'You must go back to your room,' he whispered. I tried to make him explain, but he only shook his head and repeated himself. Eco and I followed while he ran ahead.