Lindsey Davis - Saturnalia

Claudia Rufina was isolated in Rome. Her family, such as it was, lived far away in Corduba. Her parents were long dead; her younger brother had been murdered; her grandparents were very elderly. I was not even sure the old couple were still alive. She had had one close friend out in Baetica, a young woman called Aelia Annaea, but Aelia had stayed at Corduba and also married. Although they presumably wrote to each other, their relationship must have altered. For one thing, having announced that she intended to marry Camillus Aelianus (whom her people at home all knew because he had had a posting there), Claudia Rufina might have felt some reserve about telling them later that she had switched to his brother, Camillus Justinus. At the time, Claudia thought Justinus was more handsome than his brother and more fun. That was before she discovered just how much fun lay in his past.

'Tell me what happened in Germany.' Claudia was addressing me. Even Helena turned towards me expectantly; Claudia immediately noted that.

'It's pretty straightforward.' I kept my voice level. 'The Emperor sent me on a mission to persuade two bitter opponents of Rome to make peace. They were Civilis, a one-eyed Batavian turncoat who had served in the legions, and Veleda, a priestess who was stirring up hatred against us from a remote location in the forest. She lived in Germania Libera, where Rome has no remit, so that part of our trip was extremely hazardous. Quintus came over with me, as you know. We got into trouble-bad trouble. Most of my party fell into the hands of Veleda's tribe, the Bructeri, who loathe Rome. They were going to kill us. Quintus and a couple of others, who had escaped their clutches, came to rescue us. While the warriors were feasting and working themselves up for the massacre, Quintus had to win the priestess' confidence. He argued our fate with her for many hours; eventually he persuaded her to let us go. I don't know-and frankly, I don't care-just how he won Veleda over. We owe him our lives. It was the most difficult and dangerous thing he had ever done, and it affected him deeply.'

'He fell in love with her.' Claudia was wooden.

'We were only there for a night.'

'That's long enough!' murmured Helena. I glanced at her, curious. 'He only spoke with the priestess, as far as I know.' Both women thought I was lying. Mentally, I stuck with the strict truth: Justinus never had confessed to me that he slept with Veleda. Of course we all made assumptions. His behaviour afterwards made everything damned obvious. Besides, we all wished we had had the chance… 'Whatever Quintus did, was in the service of Rome.' That pompous declaration won me no friends. 'Obviously Veleda is a charismatic woman-that is how she controlled her tribesmen. And Quintus must have admired her. We all did. For him, it was the big adventure of his youth. He will never forget. But Claudia, he then came home to Rome and settled down to a normal Roman life. He married you because he loved you-' His wronged wife's expression stopped me.

Claudia Rufina was a fatalist. 'Loved me? I dare say he did-but it was never the same, was it? And now Veleda is in Rome.'

I tried not to comment. Helena said quietly, 'Please Claudia, you must not mention her in public.'

Claudia's voice was dull. I had to bend forward to catch what she was saying. 'If this had never happened, we might have managed. If she had stayed in the forest, we might have been all right. I thought Quintus and I had remained friends through all our problems. We were bound to one another by love for our son.' Tears wound their way down her pale cheeks, unheeded. I hate to see a tough woman demoralised. 'It is no use,' she whispered. 'He has gone to her. I cannot hold him any longer. I have lost him now.'

Why is it that bad behaviour by one male gets all the rest of us into trouble?

Both Helena and her mother were polite women but strong-willed. They told me that I was expected to find Justinus, and I heard myself promising to do it. Unless he was already with Veleda, I really wanted him to stay missing. Keeping them apart was my best chance. If Justinus learned of my search for the priestess, he would attach himself to me-and not with a view to solving problems diplomatically. He would use me to find his forest sprite-and I knew he wouldn't be intending to give her back to the authorities.

My aim was to hand her in immediately. That is, immediately I had ascertained whether she did hack off the head of Quadrumatus' brother-in-law. That niggled me. It was not in character. And I owed her something for saving my life. If Veleda had not killed Scaeva, I would not let the authorities-or Scaeva's family-dump the crime on her just because it was convenient.

According to Claudia, Justinus had denied making any contact with the priestess since she came to Rome. If that was true-and he was usually too transparent to lie-then as far as I could see, there had been no opportunity for the pair to collude before Veleda did her flit, and little opportunity since. Without a pre-arranged rendezvous, she would never find him. And now he had vanished from home, she had no hope of fixing such a rendezvous. Or so I hoped.

Maybe they had found one another and were now together? No. Not feasible. Not unless they had already been in contact somehow.

Never mind where Veleda had gone-where had he gone? Why had he gone? The element that made no sense was his buying a present for Claudia, as if he intended to crawl back home apologetically.

Could he have run into the priestess among the monuments south of the SaeptaJulia as he made his way home, and they had done a bunk? No. Too much of a coincidence.

A cynic might have suggested he had actually bought the gift for Veleda, to reinstate himself-but Pa would have sniffed out a subterfuge. Pa thought it was a genuine peace offering. Justinus had been horrified at hitting Claudia. Besides, when he and Veleda had been together in the forest, it was love's young dream; their relationship was far too ethereal to include the kind of bribery husbands and wives adopt in daily life. If Justinus went rushing to Veleda, he would fly headlong on swans down wings of love, without any basic planning.

I sent one of my nephews to obtain from my father a description of the purchased gift. Gaius, the runner, was also to tell Pa to ask around among his cronies at the Saepta and the Emporium for sightings of the missing man. Or indeed, sightings of the gift. Pa would love this. He adored pretending he was some kind of expert with a brilliant set of contacts, whereas I was an incompetent amateur. If he discovered anything, I would have to endure his crowing, but there was just a chance Pa would come up with results.

At home the pressure was truly on. In search of peace, I myself went to a wine bar up on the Aventine. I did not expect to find Justinus in this bolthole. As a place to drink it held very few attractions. But the waiter was amiable and the clientele, many of whom had something to hide from wives, mothers or taxation officials, respected other people's privacy. Until the First Adiutrix soldiers discovered it-as they were bound to-I could brood there alone.

Well, I took the dog. Walking Nux was always a good excuse to get out of the house.

Flora's Caupona was no longer run by Flora, who had died, probably worn out by twenty years of living with my father. Previously given by Pa to this mistress of his as a little business where she could earn hairpin money (a business which kept her busy when she might otherwise have taken unwelcome interest in what he was up to), for about twelve months now Flora's had had my elder sister Junia as its hopeless proprietress. In the evening Junia was safe at home with her aggravating husband and her rather sweet deaf son; every day at sundown she would leave the caupona in the capable hands of the waiter, Apollonius, then everyone relaxed.