John Roberts - Temple Of Muses

I was distracted by a noise from the top of the stairs. The door opened and shut and there was a glow from the top step.

"Whoever you are, I hope you've come to let me go. I am innocent!"

"It's Julia."

"How did you get here?" I asked.

"I walked, idiot."

"Oh. Ah, Julia, it might not be a good idea to bring that lamp too close. They dragged me from bed and didn't give me a chance to dress. I'm, well, the only way to describe my condition is naked."

She came on relentlessly. "If we're to be married, I'll have to learn the awful truth sooner or later. Besides, I believe that was also the state of that poor woman they found in your bed. Oh, Decius, what have you done now? I knew that you were reckless, but you've never murdered anyone before."

"Do you believe I did?" If my betrothed thought I was a murderer, I was really in trouble.

"I know it can't be, but the circumstances are so damning! The story is all over the Palace."

"And I'll bet I know who's spreading it. Julia, Asklepiodes has to examine that woman's body while it's still in my room, if it hasn't been moved already. I think Rufus has gone to get him, but I can't be sure."

"I'll see about it," she said. "Now tell me everything that happened." So I did. She frowned deeply when got to the part about going to the Daphne.

"You are telling me that you took a prostitute to Alexandria's most notorious scene of debauchery?"

"Julia," I protested, "she was my informant! I had to keep her happy!"

"How convenient! Would you have felt so compelled if she had been old and ugly?"

"Julia, don't speak foolishly. Would the Parthian ambassador have an old and ugly concubine?"

"Listen to me, Decius. I will do what I can to get you out of this alive, but I am beginning to doubt your sanity. A man who can get himself into a situation this grotesque makes a very doubtful prospect as a husband, even without consorting with prostitutes."

"I have to get that book, Julia," I insisted. "It must be the key! With that I can prove the conspiracy, I will earn the gratitude of Ptolemy, I'll be the latest savior of Rome and all will be forgiven!"

"You are pinning a lot of hopes on very little. The woman may have been lying about the book."

"I don't think so. I think this was a case where telling the truth was the easiest lure."

"You are in no position to get hold of it," she pointed out.

"Alas, yes. Not only am I chained like a recalcitrant slave, but security is probably tighter at the Parthian embassy than it is at the Roman." Then something occurred to me. "Julia, didn't the Parthian ambassador depend on Hypatia to help him in translating correspondence?"

"According to her, yes."

"Well, women are not allowed in the Parthian embassy! So where did they carry out all this work?"

"You tell me."

"He kept her in a house somewhere near the Palace. That is most likely where they went over the book from the Library, and it may still be there!"

"Surely Achillas would have collected it by now if it is so incriminating."

"Not necessarily. Achillas thinks he has solved all his problems. He has no need to move swiftly now. I have to get that book!"

"How?" she said, practically.

"If this were Rome, I could just ask Milo and he would put a dozen experienced burglars at my disposal."

"You will have noticed that this is not Rome."

"That means I'll have to do it myself."

Idly, she fingered the chains that hung from my limbs.

"Yes, I admit that there are complications. I have to get free. Let me concentrate on that. You just find out where the house of Hypatia is to be found. The court women gossip a lot; some of them must know. She said she had many friends in the Palace."

"I'll do what I can, but I have a feeling that the safest thing for you would be a swift ship for Rome and a nice, safe trial before the Senate. My uncle's influence:"

"I don't want to be beholden to Caius Julius," I snapped. "Besides, what good is the influence of a Consul if my own family wants me exiled for disgracing them? Just find out where that house is. I'll bribe a slave to file these chains off if I have to. Now go. And see about Asklepiodes!"

She leaned forward and kissed me, then she whirled and was gone. She was a sweet, brave girl, but I knew that business in the Daphne would plague me for the rest of my life.

She left the lamp, and after a while this feeble light was sufficient for me to see my abode. It was the wine-cellar. An open channel of running water passed through the room, and the amphorae of wine were set in the water to keep cool. An ingenious system of underground channels connected Alexandria to the Nile, and the water ran through the basements of most of the buildings and houses of the city, supplying them with water and giving them drainage for the sewers.

Using this room for disciplinary purposes had a certain fiendish ingenuity, for the length of the neck-chain kept the wine forever out of reach, inflicting the punishment of Tantalus. Luckily, wine was the last thing on my mind. But the smell of the river water increased my already raging thirst.

After a while the door opened again and several men came down the steps. Some of them were armed. Creticus was with them. At his gesture the Whipper and the Binder unlocked my bonds and hauled me to my feet.

"Decius," Creticus said, "I've arranged for a hearing before King Ptolemy, before this situation gets completely out of hand. He's given us safe-conduct to the throne room and back."

"Water," I said. A slave dipped a bowl in the river water and brought it to me. Hoping it wouldn't make me deathly ill, I drank until I thought I could speak without choking.

"Wouldn't it be safer to have him come here?" I asked. "This is Roman territory."

"A king does not go out of his way to do favors for a degenerate murderer, even one from Rome. Count yourself lucky."

"Achillas is behind this," I said.

Creticus turned to the others. "Wash him up and get him dressed. Be quick about it and don't let him out of your sight."

He went back up the stairs and I was dragged up behind him. In the bathhouse I washed and was barbered and I drank a great deal more water. Cleaned up and in fresh clothes, I felt infinitely better. Even a guilty man looks good in a toga. The Roman party was assembled in the atrium. I didn't see Rufus there.

"Let's go," Creticus snapped. "And act like Romans!" We descended the steps of the embassy. At the bottom of the steps, the extent of Roman territory, a double file of Macedonian soldiers extended from embassy to Palace. All the usual gawkers gawked as we made our stately way.

In the throne room, we found Ptolemy decked out in full monarchial fig. It was a typically Alexandrian mixture. He wore a Macedonian royal robe of Tyrian purple heavily embroidered with gold, much like a Roman triumphal robe. On his head was the double crown of Egypt, the white crown towering from within the red crown. On its forepeak were the heads of the cobra and the vulture. Everything in Egypt is doubled, for Upper and Lower Egypt. In his hands were the crook and the flail, and attached to his chin was the silly little false beard that signified the power of the Pharaohs. For a wonder, he appeared to be sober.

Achillas was there as well, along with a number of men in Parthian clothing. Berenice was there but had, thankfully, left her cheetahs behind, along with the baboons and dwarfs. There was a great gaggle of court hangers-on, and I saw Julia among them, chatting up the ladies. Fausta stood by Berenice, looking as sardonic as usual.

"Quintus Caecilius Metellus Creticus," Ptolemy began, "grave charges have been brought against your kinsman Decius Caecilius Metellus the Younger. A free woman, a resident foreigner residing in Alexandria, was found murdered in his bed this morning. All evidence points to his guilt. What have you to say?"