“I’m sure you’re right,” I said. “The bastard is certainly bold. He managed to poison her right under our noses.”
“We need to talk to Doricles and see what he can tell us.”
“I agree. After we do that, we should get back to my house.”
Tacitus put a hand on my shoulder. “Julia’s been through this herself, Gaius. I’m sure she’s taking good care of Aurora. That sort of thing is best left to the women.”
“But I need to see her.”
We returned to the magistrate’s office where Doricles was being held. The place had no cells. Doricles was chained to the wall at the rear of the building, along with two other men. They could walk far enough to reach a slop jar to their left and a bucket of water to their right. The magistrate’s freedman who was on duty unchained Doricles and, satisfied with the coins I gave him, led us to a small room where we could talk with some degree of privacy.
Doricles was a broken man. He began begging before we were able to say anything. “My lords, if you have any pity—and you seem like very kind gentlemen—please drop me a few crumbs. I did not hurt those women or kill that man. What’s going to happen to me?”
“You participated in several heinous crimes,” Tacitus said, “even if you only stood by. I have no doubt that you’ll be sent to Rome and thrown into the arena, perhaps to fight animals.”
Doricles’ face went blank at the word “heinous,” but he began to rock back and forth and to wail loudly. “Oh, my lords, I don’t deserve that.”
“On the other hand,” Tacitus continued, “you may not live that long. Someone—and we think it was the third man in your party—killed Lutulla. You’re the only other person who can identify him.”
The wailing grew even louder. “Oh, my lords, I ain’t no model citizen, that’s for sure, but I never hurt nobody. Please, can you do anything to help me?”
“My wife says you protected her and her servants from the other man, Publius Aurelius, even at some risk to yourself.”
“That I did, my lord.” Doricles calmed down a bit, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. “That I did. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from cutting off that poor girl’s finger, but I didn’t let him have his way with either of them. I told the women, if Aurelius tried to do anything to them while I was asleep or not with them, to make as much noise as they could and I would come running.”
“Because of that I will do what I can to save you from the arena. What other punishment you might suffer, I cannot say.”
Doricles grabbed my hand and, much to my dismay, began slobbering kisses on it. “Oh, may the gods bless you, my lord!”
I pulled my hand away from him, put it under the table, and wiped it on my tunic. “In return for my help I expect you to tell us everything you can about the kidnapping.”
“Whatever you want to know, my lords. I’ll tell you everything. But could I have a drink of water first? One of them other fellas out there don’t know the difference between them two pots of water. I’m terrible thirsty.”
I stuck my head out the door and asked the guard to bring me a cup of water. I had to watch to make certain he didn’t dip it out of the prisoners’ supplies. Doricles took the cup and drank greedily.
Tacitus, who is larger and more imposing than I am, drew himself up. “Lutulla said she was given money by some unknown person to recruit two men for a job. But there were three men involved. We know you and Aurelius. Who was the third man? Where did he come from?”
“I don’t know what his name was, my lord, but he called himself Vulpes.”
“The fox? Why the fox?”
“He was all too proud of how clever he was, my lord. And I have to admit he could come up on a person right unexpectedly, just like a fox.”
I looked at Tacitus. The man had been clever enough to pass himself off as a doctor and had killed Lutulla practically in front of us. And he must have been within earshot when I sent the messenger to Romatius asking for a doctor, but I’d never noticed him.
“Did he have bad teeth?” I asked. “Yellow? A couple of broken ones?”
“Yes, my lord. That he did. His was even worse than mine.” Doricles grimaced to show us his discolored teeth.
“But he wasn’t recruited by Lutulla?” I said.
“I don’t think so, my lord. He was with the fella that hired us. He seemed to be one of his men.”
“Help me understand this,” Tacitus said, leaning over the table like a friend. “As a rule, Lutulla offered you and Aurelius jobs, and you went somewhere to meet a man who would actually give you the job and pay you the rest of the money.”
“Yes, my lord. That’s it exactly.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“At a temple outside of town that somebody started years ago but never finished. There’s rooms under the floor of the temple. That’s where he was waiting for us, with Vulpes.”
“Had you ever been to this temple before?”
“No, my lord, but Aurelius had, so he knowed the way.”
“And you went with him, even though you had no idea what you were going to be asked to do?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Why would you do that? Did you know Aurelius well enough to trust him that far?”
“I’ve knowed him a couple of years, my lord. He’s got a bit of a temper, but he’s always been a good friend to me. I don’t have many of those. He said we could make a lot of money.”
“But he gave you no idea what you would have to do.”
“Well, my lord, he said it might be something different every time. The one thing he warned me about was that, just by going out to the temple, I was agreeing to take the job, no matter what it was. I remember his exact words. ‘Understand that good and clear,’ he said. ‘If you walk into that temple, you’ve made the decision to accept the job. Try to refuse and you won’t walk out.’”
“Why would you accept those conditions?”
“The money was going to be so good, sir.” His eyes grew wider. “More money than I’d ever dreamed of. When I found out we’d be kidnapping some women, though, I tried to back out. Vulpes grabbed me and held me, and the man who was hiring us pulled out a sword. He was going to kill me on the spot, so I said I would do it. They promised me the women wouldn’t be harmed, just held for a few days until a ransom was paid.”
“But then Aurelius lost control when the driver lashed him with his whip and killed the man.”
“Yes, my lord. And everything kind of veered off course after that.” He made a swerving motion to his left. “But I haven’t done nothing to deserve to be put into the arena. Please help me.”
I ignored his plea and asked, “What did the man who hired you look like?”
“I never saw him without his mask, my lord. Never saw Vulpes without his either. Aurelius and me kept ours on, like we was told to do, any time we was around the women. It was supposed to be that way so they wouldn’t be able to identify us when they was released.”
“But you said Vulpes had bad teeth,” Tacitus pointed out.
“I could see that much through the mouth hole, my lord. You’ve seen the masks. And Vulpes complained about his teeth hurting when he ate, like mine do.”
“So you and Aurelius stayed with my wife and her servant in that hut.”
“Yes, my lord. Vulpes took the other girl somewhere right after we kidnapped them. I hope she wasn’t hurt.”
“No, she wasn’t, aside from some rough handling. She was returned to my villa with a note attached to her gown.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that, my lord. I hope what I’ve told you has been helpful.” He was asking me what I was going to do for him now.
“I need for you to help me a bit more,” I said. “We’re going to ride out to the temple and I want you to show me exactly where you met the man who hired you and describe what happened there.”
Doricles lifted his manacled hands. “That might be difficult, my lord.”
“I’m g
oing to make arrangements with the magistrate’s man to have you released—”
“Oh, may the gods bless you, my lord!” He grabbed my hand before I could pull it back.
“You will be released into my custody. That doesn’t mean you’re going out of here a free man. You were involved in the kidnapping of my wife, the death of one of our servants, and the mutilation of another, even if you only stood by and watched. You’re not going to escape punishment, but, if you help me find the man who’s behind this, the punishment can be lighter.”
“I’ll do anything, my lord.”
“All you need to do is tell me the truth.”
* * *
The man watching the jail wanted to contact the magistrate before he released Doricles, but I didn’t want to waste any more time. I offered him more than I had intended, and that seemed to obviate the need to get any approval.
“The magistrate didn’t see him come in last night, my lord,” the man—a hunchback—said with a broad grin as he removed Doricles’ chains. “So I guess he won’t miss him when you take him out.”
The ride out to my father’s unfinished temple was brief. I wondered now what his purpose had been in undertaking the project but not completing it. He could have left funds in his will for the work. In its present condition, though, it might serve a function other than glorifying Rome. It was far enough away from town that people would not casually pass by it. After a year or two it would be all but forgotten. Bushes had grown up around it, offering some concealment. That would make it a convenient place for people to leave and pick up things, or to hold meetings that were best held out of public view. When I stopped there a few days ago, I had not noticed any evidence that anyone was living in it. The rumors about it being haunted could have been deliberately created to discourage people from doing so.
“It ain’t so spooky in daylight, my lord,” Doricles said as we dismounted and tied up our horses. “Just broken-down-lookin’. ”
“You came out here at night?” Tacitus asked.
Doricles nodded. “Aurelius said the man always had people meet him out here after dark, my lord, with just a couple of torches lit.”
We went into the door that led to the storage rooms under the temple. The sunlight barely penetrated more than a few feet. I brushed a spider’s web out of my way. Three torches were mounted in sconces but there was no way to light them. “I can see how unsettling it would be to come in here at night.”
“And imagine how you’d feel, my lord, when a big fella comes out of that door yonder wearing a skull mask. And he’s got on a white robe—not a tunic but a long robe—that covers him from his chin to the ground. You’d swear he was floatin’ more than walkin’.”
“A big man?” I asked. “Do you mean tall, or big like a gladiator is big?”
“Tall, my lord. At least taller than me by about a head.”
“We need some light,” Tacitus said. “Not everybody can see in the dark, like you, Gaius Pliny. These torches are useless without a flint and some oil.”
“May I wait out here, my lord?” Doricles asked, his voice choking. “This is as far as I went. I can’t tell you nothin’ about the rest of it.”
“Keep an eye on the horses for us,” I said, waving him out.
“Thank you, my lord.” Doricles scampered out the door.
My eyes are better than most people’s in dim light. Now that they’d had a few moments to adjust, I stepped through the door that Doricles had indicated. As much by feel as by sight, I was able to locate a small table just inside the door of the room which had an oil lamp, a vial of oil, and a flint on it. I struck the flint and in a moment we had enough light to look around.
“Homey place,” Tacitus said. “What are you expecting to find?”
“It seems to me that, if someone is using this room on any kind of regular basis, he must leave some minimal equipment here, like the lamp, rather than bring it along with him every time.”
“But then he might run the risk of having it found.”
“The rumors that it’s haunted would keep a lot of people away. I don’t think he would leave a skull mask here. That’s something that could be identified and possibly traced to the owner. But a long white robe could belong to anyone.”
“Where would he hide even a short white robe?” Tacitus waved an arm around the empty room.
“I suspect one of the stones in the wall can be moved. Bring one of those torches in and we’ll get some more light.”
“Why don’t I drag Doricles in here as well? I don’t care how scared he is, we can do the job faster with another pair of hands.”
“We won’t get them from him.”
“What do you mean?”
“See for yourself.”
Tacitus stepped out into the passageway and returned with a torch. “Doricles is gone,” he said. “And so is one of the horses, the one you hired. Ungrateful little bastard!”
I applied some oil to the torch and used the lamp to light it. “Are you surprised?”
“Yes, but you don’t seem to be. Are we going after him?”
“What for? Livia said he kept Aurelius from hurting her. That should earn him a pardon. Lutulla said he’s harmless unless he falls under the sway of someone like Aurelius. He’s told us all he can. He’ll just shrink back into the shadows of some large city.”
“I don’t imagine he’s going to stop until the horse drops under him,” Tacitus said.
“He’ll have to sell it or eat it to survive. I’ll pay for the horse, and I’m not concerned with Doricles. Let’s see if we can find a hiding place in here.”
* * *
We made the trip back to Gaius’ villa as slowly as I have ever ridden in a wagon, but I still felt every jolt. Julia and Felix took turns holding my hand. I felt I could squeeze Felix’s hand harder than I could Julia’s. When we arrived, Julia shooed everyone away and they got me settled in the room that Felix and I were supposed to share. Felix went to get me something to eat, although I hadn’t asked for it and didn’t really want it.
When Gaius’ mother came in to see me, Julia stepped outside.
“That must have been some excitement,” Plinia said.
I nodded, hoping to appear weaker than I actually felt. I wasn’t ready to face people yet. A day or two of solitude appealed to me. “What did Livia tell you, my lady?” I asked in a soft voice.
“Not much. Just that Pliny and Tacitus killed one of the kidnappers and captured another one. I gather the third one escaped.”
“He wasn’t there, my lady.” I was relieved to hear that Livia had not revealed what really did happen. “Is the lady Livia all right? I know she was badly frightened.”
“She left for her estate in Umbria early this morning.”
“But I saw the lady Pompeia when we were coming in, my lady.” Livia’s mother had stood on the other side of the garden and glared at me as Felix and Julia helped me to my room.
“Livia wouldn’t let her mother go with her. She said she needed some time to herself. I suppose that means time away from Gaius as well.”
“She did have an awful shock, my lady. I hope everyone can just give her time to recover.” I wished they could give me time as well, but I knew I wasn’t likely to get it, since no one knew—or ever could know—what was really wrong with me.
Plinia sat on the edge of the bed. “Aurora dear, let’s talk honestly with one another.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. Honest talk between slave and master, like water coming down a hill, can run only one way.
“We both know,” Plinia began, “that your…relationship with Gaius will only lead to more trouble between him and Livia. I want my son to be happy, just as I wanted my husband and my brother to be happy.”
“My lady, I—” Plinia held up her hand to silence me. So much for honest talk.
She sighed heavily and went on. “I don’t understand why men can’t be content unless they’re, shall we say, sowing their seed someplace
where they shouldn’t. I just know there is no greater sorrow in a marriage than realizing that, when your husband comes to your bed, he is thinking of another woman, that he remembers making love to her. And, when you know who that woman is, the pain is unbearable.”
The downhill flow of this “honesty” was about to drown me.
“I am deeply torn,” Plinia went on. “I know Gaius loves you and that makes him happy. But I am dying.” She paused. “You’re not surprised, so I suppose Gaius has told you.”
“Yes, my lady, he has.”
“He hasn’t told his wife.” She clipped her words.
“My lady, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s not your fault. I wanted to see my son married. I’ve accomplished that. Now I want to hold my grandchild before my last day comes. You can make Gaius happy, but you cannot give me a grandchild, at least not one I can claim.”
Because I’m a slave, just a piece of property. What if I “honestly” told her that this piece of property had been carrying her grandchild? “My lady, I’m afraid I can only make…your son unhappy. In a way I wish we could be ten years old again. Back then we could play together and no one thought anything of the time we spent with one another. Now, if we even exchange a glance across the room, I feel like everyone is wondering what it means.”
Plinia cocked her head. “And what does it mean?”
Before I had to answer, the door swung open and Pompeia’s ample frame filled it. “Plinia, could I speak with you, please?”
Gaius’ mother stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. I got up and stood next to the door, with my ear pressed against it. Pompeia made no effort to keep her voice down—I’m not sure she can—and Plinia’s voice seemed to rise in response.
“Why are you pampering that girl?” Pompeia demanded.
“She is a valued member of our household,” Plinia replied, calmly but not softly.
“No. She is the major impediment between Gaius and Livia in their marriage. That’s what she is.”
“I need to remind you that Aurora was involved in rescuing Livia. Gaius himself told Julia that they would not have been able to save your daughter without Aurora’s aid.”
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