Lindsey Davis - A dying light in Corduba

Optatus greeted everyone with a silent nod. Helena introduced me.

'Have you come to Baetica on business, Marcus Didius?' enquired Aelia Annaea disingenuously. I reckoned she had overheard enough from her grumbling relatives at home to know just what my position was. This was a young lady who picked up all the news.

'It's no secret,' I answered. 'I'm the hated agent who has been sent from Rome to poke his nose into the olive oil business.'

'Oh, what's the reason for this?' she responded lightly.

I just smiled, trying to look like a dumbcluck who would be satisfied with any tale her untrustworthy papa wished to hand me.

'We had heard there was somebody coming from Rome.' Claudia was the serious one, utterly straightforward: the type who had never realised that when a delicate question had been posed it was perfectly permissible to keep quiet. Especially if your grandpapa might have something to hide. 'My grandfather thought it was somebody else.'

'Someone else in particular?' I asked, smiling again.

'Oh, a strange old woman who had approached him asking questions when he was out in the fields one day. He actually wrote to your father about it, Aelia!'

'Did he?' Aelia Annaea was too clever to tell Claudia to shut up; it would only draw attention to her tactlessness.

'Well, that was a surprise!' Catching my curious expression Claudia explained, 'Everyone was amazed to find them corresponding. Grandpapa and Annaeus Maximus usually avoid each other if they can.'

'An old feud?'

Just professional rivalty.'

'That's sad!' I grinned. 'I was hoping for a hot tale of seething envy and passion. Was there no stolen land? No favourite slavegirls raped on riverbanks? No runaway young wives?'

'You read the wrong poetry,' said Helena.

'No, love; I read the law reports!'

Marius Optatus said nothing, but chuckled to himself. He was not much help with repartee I was perfectly prepared to handle three women at once, but an occasional respite would have been useful; in fact, this situation called for my rascally friend Petronius.

'What happened to the old biddy?' I enquired of Claudia. 'She was shooed away.'

Aelia Annaea had been watching me. She was thinking herself a match for any undercover agent – especially one investigating openly. I winked at her. She was no match for that.

Apropros of nothing Helena asked, 'So were you both acquainted with my brother?'

Oh, of course, squeaked both wenches, in enthusiastic tones. Past acquaintance with Aelianus would be their public reason for making much of Helena, a new face (with a Roman hairstyle, and perhaps bringing a scroll of Roman recipes). Apparently Aelianus had been a jewel of Corduban society (these were very polite young women). At least, he had been a close friend of Claudia's brother, Rufius Constans, and of Aelia's three brothers, who must all have owned impressive formal names in the Roman style, but whom she called Spunky, Dotty and Ferret.

What all the male juveniles had in common, it emerged, was that they were close cronies of Tiberius.

'Tiberius?' asked I, like a wide-eyed novice.

'Oh, you must know Tiberius!'

'I'm afraid I don't have that honour. Tiberius who?'

'Tiberius Quinctius Quadratus,' stated Marius Optatus suddenly. 'In my house he has one or two less polite names.'

'Your ex-landlord's son?'

'Our admired new quaestor, Falco.'

His intervention had darkened the tone of the conversation. He looked as if he wanted to cause trouble. Aelia Annaea tried to soften the atmosphere: 'Well, what can one say about Tiberius, except that he is charming?'

Helena said quietly, 'Don't you just hate charming men? I always think charm is a certain clue to a man you shouldn't trust.'

'This one is also extremely good-looking,' I supplied. 'If he's the hero I saw the other night collecting you from your father's house, Aelia Annaea?' She acknowledged it.

'Oh, he has everything!' muttered Optatus jealously. 'A distinguished father in a prominent position, a winning way, political promise, and the good opinion of everyone he comes into contact with.' I saw young Claudia compress her lips slightly. She was embarrassed by his anger; her young friend merely looked resigned.

I pretended to know nothing about him. 'Is this paragon new to the area?'

'The family's Roman of course,' Optatus answered bitterly. 'But we know him well already. The Quinctii have large tracts of land. Quadratus has spent time in the district before, and we'll be seeing even more of him now he holds his official post.'

I beamed at the two young ladies. 'I take it he's related to Quinctius Attractus, the senator your father and grandfather stayed with in Rome just recently?' This time even Claudia had the sense merely to answer with a vague nod and smile. If they knew the visit to Rome was significant, somebody seemed to have told them not to discuss it with me. 'I met Attractus myself. What a coincidence.'

'You'll meet his son too,' growled Optatus. 'Don't worry about missing that treat, Marcus Didius. He's everywhere, is Tiberius.' The two young ladies had fallen silent; fending off difficulties with Optatus had now gone beyond their control.

'I heard he was off hunting,' I said.

'He's hanging around Corduba enjoying himself,' replied Marius. 'I heard the proconsul told him he wasn't to show his face in the office any more than strictly necessary.'

He was wanting to argue with somebody, so I gave him his money's worth: 'I reckon you're being hard on the new quaestor. From the glimpse I had, he seemed a gifted lad.'

'Oh, he's wonderful,' breathed Claudia.

'Young lady, do I detect a blush?' I quipped. She obliged me, though it earned me a black look from Helena, who had already decided to support a romance for Optatus with Claudia. I refused to take the hint from my beloved, and carried on, 'Claudia Rufina, your grandparents were telling me their plans for your brother's career – Rome, and so forth. They must have high hopes for you too. Does that include a handsome dowry to share with some promising star?'

This time Helena actually kicked me. Too late. While she squinted a reminder about Marius Optatus harbouring a tenderness for Claudia, his expression remained decidedly neutral. But a sudden frosty tension told me three different women were cursing me and wondering how to be kind to him.

Claudia, the least adept, answered my question in her usual serious and strictly accurate way: 'My grandfather has not discussed anything with me -' It sounded as though Licinius Rufius had actually told her it was too soon for public comment.

Helena Justina leaned forward and tapped my wrist with the herbal tea strainer. 'Marriage isn't everything, Marcus!' She turned to Aelia Annaea. 'I remember when my former husband first asked for me. I was young; I thought it was my duty to accept him. But I can recall feeling very angry that he had placed me in the position where I felt obliged to have him just because he was the one who had asked.'

'I think I understand that,' Aelia Annaea responded. Then, somewhat to the surprise of both Helena and me, she mentioned that she had been married herself, then after three years and no children she had been very recently widowed. Something in her tone implied she had no plans to repeat the experience.

'Was your marriage happy?' Helena asked in her forthright way.

'I had nothing to complain about.'

'That sounds rather qualified.'

'Well, I could never in conscience have requested a divorce.'

'And yet?' asked Helena, smiling.

'And yet, Helena!' Aelia Annaea had probably not talked like this before. We watched the young widow surprising herself: 'To be honest, when my husband died I felt I had been given another chance in life.' Her eyes sparkled wickedly. 'I do enjoy myself now. A widow has a different status. For a year at least, I shall have a certain independence She stopped, as if we might disapprove of what she was saying.