Steven Saylor - Catilina's riddle

Claudia laughed. 'Forgive me for being so nosy. Country habits; if I'd been raised in the city I suppose I'd have learned to mind my own business. Or maybe not. Well, I shall leave you to go and greet your visitors.' She rose and put on her hat. Though why they should be approaching your house through the woods like a pair of bandits, instead of using the road, is a puzzlement You do know who they are, Gordianus?'

'Oh, yes,' I assured her, wondering if I did.

I waited for her to leave, then stood and took a sip of wine from the skin. Down below me, the men on horseback did the same, passing a skin between them. They seemed content to sit and watch from their vantage point beneath the shady olive trees, so I sat and watched them in turn. This went on for quite some time, until I began to grow impatient and a little angry. After all, invited or not, they had no business being on my property without my knowledge, and to spy upon my house, whatever their reason or intent, was inexcusable.

I had decided that I had had enough of their impertinence, and was about to go down the hill to confront them, armed with nothing but my dignity as a citizen and a farmholder, when the larger one suddenly turned and looked up at me over his shoulder. I couldn't see his face, because of the shadow cast by his hat, but he must have seen me, for he said something to his companion, who likewise turned his head and looked up at me. The smaller man gestured for the other to stay, then dismounted and began hiking up the hillside.

I should have realized then who it was, for he seemed to know at once the right way to come, as no stranger could have. There was also something instantly familiarabout his gait and the outline of his body, though his face was still hidden by the brim of his hat But it was not until he gained the ridgetop and was almost upon me that I knew him and said his name with a start.

'Eco!'

'Papa!' He took off his hat and put his arms around me, squeezing the breath out of me.

'I hope you don't squeeze your new bride that hard.'

'Of course I do!' He squeezed me harder and then finally released me. 'Menenia is a young willow and she bends.'

'And I'm an old yew that can crack,' I said, arching my back.

He stepped back. 'Sorry, Papa. It's just that I'm so glad to see you.' His voice still carried that same hoarse, husky quality that had marked it ever since he had regained it nine years before in Baiae, after many years of muteness. To hear him speak is always a miracle to me, and a reminder that the gods can sometimes be generous beyond all expectation.

'But what are you doing here? And why on earth do you look like that?' I asked, for I suddenly realized that his hair and beard were trimmed in exactly the same fashion as Marcus Caelius's — his hair shorn short on the sides but left long and unruly on top, and his beard trimmed and blocked into a thin strap across his jaw and above his lips. The style would look eccentric on anyone, I thought, but was at least nattering to Caelius with his high cheekbones and red lips; it was not at all suitable for Eco.

Eco raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, then touched his chin. 'Oh, the look! Do you like it?'

'No.’

He laughed. 'Menenia likes it.'

'The head of his own household should not put on an appearance merely to please his wife,' I said, and immediately thought, Numa's balls, you sound just like every old fart of a Roman father who's ever lived. 'Never mind,' I quickly said, then frowned. 'So long as it doesn't mean you've taken up with some sort of strange clique.'

'Whatever are you talking about?'

'I mean, so long as the beard and hair aren't part of joining a certain political set…'

He laughed and shook his head. 'It's just a fashion, Papa. Anyway, I came as quickly as I could. I was gone from Rome when your letter came, down in Baiae on business for a client — one of the Cornelii; you know how well they pay. I got back only yesterday. When I read your letter, naturally I put things in order as fast as I could — well, after being gone from home so long I couldn't leave Menenia without at least spending the night. I brought Belbo along with me in case there was real trouble. Oh, and I did as you said and dispatched that cryptic message to Marcus Caelius before I left.'

'But, Eco, I didn't ask you to come.'

'Oh, didn't you, Papa?' He looked at me shrewdly and pulled a rolled scrap of parchment from his belt. ' "My beloved son Eco", "his loving father.' Really, so much sentiment at the outset alarmed me right away. And then these peculiar references to surprises in the countryside and hints of something exciting taking place — as if you were writing with someone looking over your shoulder and unable to say what you really meant. Then comes the main point of the letter, ostensibly anyway, reminding me of Meto's coming-of-age party — really, as if I were likely to forget that, or as if we hadn't already discussed all the details in the spring! Then, disguised as an almost forgotten afterthought, your request that I pass on a message that can only be some sort of code — private joke, indeed! — followed by a final entreaty to be cautious and stay out of harm's way. Well, you might as well have sat down and written a letter saying, "Help, Eco, come as quickly as you can!"'

'Let me see that letter,' I said, and snatched it from his hands. 'Do you always scrutinize your personal correspondence for messages between the lines?'

He shrugged. 'Papa, I am your son. Aren't you glad I've come? Isn't it what you wanted?'

'Yes. Yes, I'm glad you're here. I do need someone to talk to.' I sat down on the stump and picked up the wineskin.

Eco tossed his hat onto the ground and sat beside me. 'Interesting,' he said, slipping the palm of his hand beneath his buttocks. 'This stump is rather warm, despite the fact that it's in the shade. Was someone else sitting here before me?'

I shook my head and sighed. 'Oh, for better or worse, you are the Finder's son!'

'No wonder I found you wearing such a long face,' said Eco. He sat with his bare feet in the grass, warming his legs in the late afternoon sun. While we talked, the sunlight and shadows had shifted around us. I had told him everything I could think of that had happened in the last month, and several things I had forgotten, thanks to his persistent questioning. Between us on the grass the wineskin lay flattened and empty. At the foot of the hill the horses were tethered to a rock, and Belbo dozed against a tree trunk.

'So you assume that it was Marcus Caelius who put the headless body in the stable, as a message?' Eco said, gazing thoughtfully down at the farmhouse.

'Who else?’

'Perhaps someone on the other side,' he suggested. 'Which other side? That's the problem'

"Then you don't believe that Caelius truly represents Cicero?'

'Who knows? When I told him I would require assurances from Cicero himself, he flatly refused, though not without giving me reasons. He wants no link between Cicero and myself.'

'We can find a way around that,' said Eco. 'You needn't do it yourself. I can get a message to Cicero so that no one will know, and convey it here to you.'

'And then what? Let us suppose that Cicero assures us that Caelius is indeed his spy in Catilina's camp — even so, can Cicero see into the young man's heart? Caelius claims to be merely posing as Catilina's ally while secretly working on Cicero's behalf But what if his treachery doubles back on itself? What if he truly is Catilina's man? Then, if I go along with what he requests, I still have no way of knowing whose interests I'm ultimately being forced to serve. Oh, it's like being thrown into a snake pit — some are more poisonous than others, but all have a bite. What a choice, choosing which snake to let bite you! And just when I thought I had climbed out of the pit for good.. '