Kelli Stanley - The Curse-Maker

“Off to dinner, eh, Arcturus?” Grattius’s mouth stretched into his version of a sly smile. “And who knows what else that nice little piece of yours will have waiting?”

Vitellius woke up from his nap, and said: “Sulpicia?”

The subsequent laughter saved Grattius from needing Philo’s professional attention. I gave him a stare that made him go white. Quite an accomplishment, considering he looked like a hairy boil. I turned my back and walked out.

The waters were good. Whatever was wrong here had nothing to do with the waters.

When we got back to the dressing room, I changed my clothes and gave Aeron a whole sestertius , more than a day’s worth of tips.

“Anything happen?”

He scratched his head. “N-no. Not that I can figure.” He sounded disappointed.

“Offer still stands. You see anything around here you think qualifies, you come get me. All right?”

He nodded. He was smart and poor, and therefore invisible.

The litter bearers were waiting by the door. Ligur looked appalled when I asked him if he wanted a ride. By the time the chair was lowered again, I was almost asleep. I opened my eyes and stepped out and walked into a large, chestnut brown horse.

He was a stallion-obviously. He could also smell Nimbus-obviously. She was nickering to him, and when he answered her, everyone in Aquae Sulis could hear what he said.

I strode into the house. “What the hell-”

A tall, hearty looking man of about forty was sitting down, starry-eyed, admiring my wife. Join the goddamn fraternity. Maybe I should put her in the barn with Nimbus.

“Arcturus-I’m so glad you’re home. This is Gaius Secundus. The duovir of Aquae Sulis.”

Of course. How could I forget there were two of the bastards?

I tried not to ask him what the hell he was doing with a stallion in my garden. I said: “We’ve already met Grattius.”

A look of distaste crossed his face. At least that was something in his favor.

“Well, Grattius and I run the town together, though we don’t always see eye to eye. I’d heard you were here, and thought you might want to come to dinner tomorrow.”

I glanced down at Gwyna, who smiled bewitchingly. “Of course. We’d love to. Thanks for asking.” Another neigh nearly shattered a glass.

“Is that your horse?”

“Noble beast, isn’t he? I understand you have a mixed Libyan breed yourself, a little gray mare.”

Ah. The horsey set. “Nimbus used to be a courier horse.”

“Fast devils. Good endurance, too.” He stood up. “Well, glad you can come. Not a lot to do in Aquae Sulis if you’re not infirm. Got a theater, of course-the wife and I are avid for theatricals. No arena yet. Hopefully, that’ll come. We could use a good gladiator show-liven things up a bit-but first things first. What we need is a good track. Run some fast circus breeds, have a little racing farm.” He clapped me on the back. “Always glad to meet a fellow who knows horses.”

I escorted him out, to make sure he left. Then made sure no one else was waiting around to make love to my wife. Then walked into the dining room.

The dinner was laid out. Gwyna dismissed the slaves so she could serve us herself. Lamb stew, peas, lettuce leaves with onions, and wine cakes. The food was almost as delectable as the sight of her pouring wine.

“Priscus was hiding this in the kitchen until Secundus left. I didn’t think he ever would. He kept hinting around, hoping for an on-the-spot dinner invitation. Now, sit down, Ardur, and tell me what you found out.”

Her eyes were bright. I told her about my day, and ended with what Drusius and Calpurnius had told me-and not told me.

“It doesn’t make much sense. People die in Aquae Sulis, and Bibax’s curses came true. What does that mean?”

Gwyna was looking at me strangely. “Ardur-”

“Yes?”

“Ardur … what if it’s in the wrong order?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if it’s ‘Bibax’s curses come true’… and then ‘people die’?”

I stared at my wife. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that?

I leaned forward. “You mean, hire Bibax, curse someone you want to get rid of … let the goddess take the blame. Making Bibax and whoever he was working with murderers for hire.”

She nodded, her curling blond hair falling down into soft waves, and I was struck by how young she looked. She’d been so drawn when I came home from the North, so tired.

I tried to concentrate on Bibax. “Did anyone mention him at all?”

“No one admitted knowing or ever using him, but they were willing to imply other people did. When Prunella spoke of Bibax, it was … well, it was when we were talking about wanting things to happen. Do you see?”

“I think so. Who’s Prunella?”

“You met her last night. Octavio’s wife. The one with a laugh like a donkey. She was there early-her husband runs it, after all. She checked me over, of course. So did everyone else.”

“What do you mean, ‘checked me over’?”

She threw me a tolerant smile. “You don’t understand women, do you? They had to inspect my clothes, what sort of perfume I wore, how expensive it was. Jewelry, shoes, hair oil-everything. Find out if I was keeping my figure. Or if I had a lover on the side.”

I drank my wine too quickly. Gwyna arched her eyebrows and smiled. I said: “That must be uncomfortable.”

She reached around to gather her hair, twisting it at the back of her neck. “It is. But you get used to it, especially in this kind of company. The trick is to find out more about them than they find out about you.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “Lots of things, most of them unimportant. Prunella drinks, you know. I was glad I brought wine.”

“You brought wine?” I was beginning to feel stupid again.

“Of course. I saw last night she drinks too much. I thought it would be easier to get her to talk, and it was, as long as I kept her by herself.”

I shook my head. “You-you’re-”

Her eyes opened wide. “Yes, Ardur?”

I hadn’t forgotten the remark about lovers on the side.

“Go on. What did they tell you? And who was there?”

“Grattius’s wife, of course-Vibia-and Prunella, and Flavia, the priest’s wife-”

“Which priest?”

“Papirius, the head of the temple. She thinks she’s some kind of bath duenna, and a terrible snob. I was quizzed on all my relatives-and yours, of course. That shut her up.”

She paused, and poured herself a drink, and then let it float like an afterthought. “And there was Sulpicia, of course.”

“Sulpicia? She was with you? But I-”

The blue eyes narrowed into arrow slits, and the arrows were loaded and ready.

“Did you see Sulpicia today? You haven’t mentioned it.”

“She came by the palaestra while I was exercising. It wasn’t important.” I gulped again and spilled some on my tunic. Nonchalance is difficult with wine dribbled down your front.

“Arcturus-whenever that cow pays you a visit, you’re to tell me.”

“Of course. I didn’t think it mattered.” I was stuttering like a boy in his first toga. Squirming, too.

Her voice was dry. “It matters to me. The bitch is trying to seduce you. If you had any sense where women are concerned, you’d realize my pride’s at stake.”

I squinted at her. “I understand. Can we get back to Bibax?”

She bent forward and poured me more Caecuban.

“Where was I? Oh, right-Prunella. Some young tart was frisking in the pool. This was before the others arrived. Prunella got catty-said that Titus something-Sestius, I think-well, he wasn’t getting his money’s worth, was he? Here he fixed his aunt good and proper, inherited all her money three months ago, and now he was wasting it on this cheap little piece.”