The Venus Throw rsr-4

by Steven Saylor

  She was lost in thought for a long moment, then seemed to wake to her surroundings. She smiled. "And of course, when I got a little older still, I brought boys here. My stepmother allowed my brothers to do whatever they wished, but she was strict with her daughters and with me, or tried to be, though it brought her nothing but grief. Oh, there was many a secret tryst in this place, beneath these trees, on that very bench. Of course, all that ended when my father betrothed me to cousin Quintus," she said glumly.

  "And now that you're a widow, do you still bring suitors here?"

  Clodia laughed. "What an absurd idea. Why do you ask?"

  "Something Chrysis said as I was leaving the litter."

  "Naughty Chrysis. She was teasing you, I'm sure. Oh, I suppose the gossips say such things about me-'Clodia meets her lovers at midnight in the Claudian graveyard! She drags the young men into the sepulchers and deflowers them while her ancestors gasp in shame!' But these days I really much prefer a couch and pillows. Don't you?" She stood sideways and turned her face to look at me straight on. The reflected sunlight seemed to turn her stola to a thin mist that clung to her naked flesh and could have been dispelled with a puff of breath.

  I looked away, and found myself nose to nose with a stately bas-relief of a horse's head, the ancient symbol of death. Death as departure; death as something more powerful than man. "You were going to explain this talk of poison."

  She sat on the bench, using her cape for a cushion. "Marcus Caelius is plotting to murder me before the trial."

  She allowed this statement to reverberate for a moment, then went on. "He knows that I have evidence. He knows that I'm planning to testify against him. He wants me dead, and if he had his way, I'd be joining the shades of my ancestors before sundown tomorrow. Fortunately, the slaves whom Caelius thought he could seduce have remained loyal to me, and have informed me of his plot."

  "What plot?"

  "This very morning Caelius obtained the poison he plans to use. He bought a slave to test it on. The wretched man died in horrible agony while Caelius watched. It took only moments. Caelius wanted a quick-acting poison, you see, and had to make sure it would do the job."

  "How do you know this?"

  "Because I have spies in Caelius's house, of course. Just as he thinks he has spies in mine." She stood up and began to pace. "This was his plot: to have a friend of his meet some of my slaves tomorrow afternoon at the Senian baths and hand over the poison to them, whereupon they would bring the poison home and Chrysis would put it into my food. His agent approached the slaves yesterday, including Chrysis. The slaves pretended to agree, but instead they came to me and told me everything."

  "What made Caelius think he could suborn your slaves?"

  "Marcus Caelius used to be a welcome guest in my home. He got to know some of the slaves, including Chrysis, rather well-well enough, I suppose, that he thought he could sway them with promises of silver and freedom if they would help him murder their mistress. He under-estimated their loyalty to me."

  I stared at her, trying to decide whether I should believe her, and found myself studying the shape of her body instead. I shook my head. "So the plot has been uncovered. You've nipped it in the bud. Why all this secrecy? Why tell me about it at all?"

  "Because Marcus Caelius doesn't know that his plot has been spoiled. He thinks my slaves have agreed to follow his orders. He still plans to go through with it. Tomorrow afternoon, his agent will arrive at the Senian baths, carrying the little box of poison. My slaves will be there to receive it from him — along with witnesses. We shall seize the poison, expose the agent, produce the evidence in court, and add another count of attempted murder to the charges against Marcus Caelius."

  "And you want me to be there?" I said.

  She drew close to me. "Yes, to help seize the poison. To witness everything that happens."

  "Are you so sure you can trust your slaves, Clodia?" "Of course."

  "Perhaps they're not telling you everything."

  "We all have to trust our slaves in the end, don't we?"

  "Then why have you brought me here, away from your house, away from your bodyguards and litter bearers, where even Chrysis can't hear?"

  She lowered her eyes. "You see through me. Yes, I can't be certain. No one can ever be certain of anything in this world. Yes, I'm a little frightened-even of my slaves. But for some reason I trust you, Gordianus. I imagine you've been told that before."

  With her head bowed and her eyes lowered, I noticed the remarkable line of her eyebrows, like the wings of a bird in flight. Then she turned her face up and all I could see were her deep, luminous green eyes.

  "Clodia, you asked me to find evidence that Marcus Caelius tried to kill Dio. Whether you're pursuing this matter for the sake of justice, or for political gain, or simply to hurt Caelius, I don't know, nor do I really care. I agreed to take part for one reason: to do what I can to put Dio's shade at rest. This warfare between yourself and Caelius-broken love affair, festering hatred, whatever-is of no concern to me."

  She stepped even closer and looked steadily into my eyes. I felt the heat of her body, as I had felt it in the litter. Her eyes seemed impossibly huge. "Love and hatred have nothing to do with it. Don't you see, Gordianus, it's all tied to Dio's murder. That's why Caelius wants to kill me, not because I loved him once and don't anymore, but because I'm trying to prove what he did to Dio. That's why I want you to go to the Senian baths tomorrow, to help foil his plot against me and expose it for all of Rome to see. This is all a part of the case against Caelius, which is the only way to bring Dio's killer to justice."

  I stepped back from her. "The Senian baths," I said ruefully. "I suppose I could do with a hot plunge. At what time?"

  A smile barely registered on her lips. "I'll send a litter to take you there tomorrow afternoon. Chrysis will go along, to give you more details on the way." She picked up her cape and handed it to me, then turned so that I could drape it over her shoulders. She leaned back, barely pressing her body against mine. "Oh, and tonight I'll send over the silver you may be needing."

  "Silver for what?"

  "To buy those two kitchen slaves of Lucceius's, of course, the ones who took part in the plot against Dio. That is, if you're able to track them down. You'll need ready silver if you're to buy them from under the nose of Lucceius's foreman at that mine up north, or bribe him into letting you have them. How much silver do you think that would take? Well, let me know before we part, and I'll send it to you to-night."

  "I'll send back a receipt with the same courier," I said.

  She pulled the cape about her neck and smiled. "No need for that. I'm sure you'll return any silver that's still unspent after the trial. You see, Gordianus, I really do trust you."

  "Would you mind if we took a little side trip?" said Clodia, when we were back in the box and aloft.

  "As long as I'm back in time for my dinner," I said, thinking of Bethesda.

  "It will take only a few moments. I have an urge to go up on the Capitoline, just to take in the view. The air is so clear today, and the sun will be setting in the west." She nodded to Chrysis, who stuck her head out of the curtains and gave instructions to the chief of the litter bearers.

  We passed back through the vegetable and cattle markets, crossed the valley between the Palatine and Capitoline hills, and entered the Forum. The day was waning, but a glimpse outside showed me that the squares were still thronged with men in togas going about their business. I appreciated the privacy of a closed litter-how else could a man cross the busiest spot in Rome side by side with a scandalous woman, without anyone seeing him?

  Clodia's entourage did not go unnoticed, however. At one point we crossed paths with some of Milo's gang, who must have recognized the distinctive red and white striped curtains of the box.

  "Bring out the whore!" one of them shouted. "Are you in there with her, Clodius?"

  "Wet the bed again and gone running to your big sister?" "She'll kiss it and make it all better
!" "Or bigger!"

  There was a sudden jolt as the litter came to a halt. From outside we heard more obscene taunts, then the sounds of a skirmish. The moment had a peculiar, nightmarish quality; inside the box we were hidden, but also blind to the outside world, so that the obscenities seemed to come from disembodied voices and the scuffling noises were all the more alarming, their causes unseen. I heard the slither of steel pulled from scabbards, then more shouts. Beside me Clodia's body seemed to radiate heat. I glanced at her face, which remained expressionless. I thought I saw her ears turn red, but it might have been a trick of the light within the box.

  The litter began to move again, then abruptly stopped.

  "Turn it over!" someone shouted.

  "Make a bonfire of the bitch!"

  Staring straight ahead, Clodia reached for my hand and squeezed it. I gritted my teeth and sucked in a breath. From outside came the sounds of clashing steel, along with yells and grunts.

  Finally the litter began moving again and rapidly picked up speed, leaving a chorus of obscene taunts behind us. Clodia stared straight ahead. Gradually she relaxed her grip and let go of my hand. She let out a barely audible sigh, then gave a start when a gruff voice called her name from outside.

  "The chief of the bodyguard," she said to me, regaining her composure. She pulled back the curtain. A straw-haired gladiator with a crooked nose trotted alongside the litter.

  "Sorry about that," he said. "Nothing to worry about. They got the worst of it. Milo's men won't try a stunt like that again anytime soon!"

  Clodia nodded. The man grinned, showing rotten teeth, and Clodia let the curtain drop.

  We turned sharply to the left and then to the right again, going up the long steep ramp that ascends to the summit of the Capitoline.

  We passed by the chief monuments, the Auguraculum and the great Temple of Jupiter, and headed past the Tarpeian Rock to the less built-up southern end of the hill. The litter came to a stop. Clodia donned her cape and we stepped from the box. The spot was deserted and silent except for the sound of wind in my ears.

  The sky above us swirled with the orange and purple clouds of a

  spectacular sunset. The Tiber was a sheet of gold and the whole western horizon was aflame. "You see?" said Clodia, wrapping herself in her cape. "I knew it would be marvelous!"

  I stood beside her, staring at the sunset. She pointed at something directly below us. "If you look straight down, over the edge of the cliff, you can see just a bit of the brick wall that closes off the Claudian burial ground, where we were. You see, there? And just beyond that, the Temple of Bellona, built on the same parcel of land by one of my ancestors, the Appius Claudius who was victorious against the Etruscans two hundred years ago. Instead of holding a triumphal parade, he built a temple at his own expense and dedicated it to the war goddess Bellona, and gave it to the people of Rome to be his monument. Sulla was especially fond of Bellona, you know. He gave her credit for his victories. I remember him once telling Father, 'Thank your ancestor for me, the next time you talk to him, for building Bellona such a fine place to live here in Rome.'

  She smiled and turned her back on the sunset, walking slowly until she came to the opposite side of the hill. Across from us the Palatine loomed with its great jumble of rooftops. A little more to the south the view opened up. In the valley between the Palatine and the Aventine hills lay the vast expanse of the Circus Maximus with its long racetrack. Clodia pointed to the regions beyond. "Over there the Appian Way begins, and runs south all the way to Campania and beyond. And there, crossing the Appian Way, joining the wall for a stretch, is the Appian aqueduct, which has been bringing water into the city for almost three hundred years. These works are the legacy of my family. And those men in the Forum dare to call me such names!"

  She stared at the view for a while, blinking as if the wind had blown dust in her eyes, then looked over her shoulder. A stone's throw away was the southernmost of the temples that crowd the Capitoline. "I need to go inside, just for a moment," she said. She strode toward the temple steps and left me behind, wondering whether I had just seen a patrician's pious desire to burn a bit of incense for her ancestors, or a woman's need to hide a sudden burst of tears.

  The litter bearers rested. The bodyguards threw dice. Chrysis remained within the canopied box. I shuffled about the paved square in front of the temple, staring at the flagstones. Suddenly I realized which temple it was, the Temple of Public Faith, and remembered the inscription that had been added some time ago to the marble parapet in front of the building.

  The inscription wasn't hard to find. In the fading light I read the chiseled letters with a feeling of odd detachment:

  PTOLEMAIOS THEOS PHILOPATOR PHILADELPHOS NEOSDIONYSOS FRIEND AND ALLY OF THE ROMAN PEOPLE

  When all else was said and done, King Ptolemy was the reason behind everything: Dio's journey to Rome and his gruesome death, the Egyptian machinations of Pompey and Clodius and the rest of the Roman Senate, the impending trial of Marcus Caelius. But as the philosophers point out, the single trunk of a tree, so clear to see at its base, becomes increasingly obscure the farther one proceeds into the branches.

  I didn't have to look up to know that Clodia had finished her business in the temple and was silently descending the steps toward me. I smelled her perfume.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stepped from Clodia's litter onto the street in front of my house just as the last of the day's light was retreating from the rooftops into the ether. The red and white striped litter departed. The stamping feet of Clodia's bodyguards left a haze of dust in their wake, which made the empty, twilit street even murkier. I rapped on my door, but Belbo was slow in opening it.

  Some apprehension-a tap on the shoulder from Fortune, as they say-caused me to glance over my shoulder. Across the street I saw the figure of a man. He wore a toga, and from his pose he appeared to be standing still and watching me. I turned and rapped on the door again. I tried the latch, just in case the door might have been left unbarred. It had not. I looked over my shoulder again.

  The figure had moved closer, into the middle of the street. In the dimness and dust I could make out nothing but a silhouette.

  Where was Belbo when I needed him? No need to take along the hulking brute, Trygonion had told me when I left the house. You'll be in the litter. It's well guarded. Now I found myself alone on my own doorstep, without a bodyguard, without a weapon. I rapped on the door again, then turned to face the man. If I was to be stabbed, I'd prefer to look him in the eye rather than have my back turned. Of course, the man was probably just some passing stranger, I told myself, even as I went through the catalogue in my mind of all those who might want to put a stop to any further investigation into the murder of Dio — King Ptolemy, Pompey, Marcus Caelius, Clodius's enemy Milo, whose gang had just threatened Clodia in the Forum-men notorious for using whatever means were necessary to snuff out their opposition.

  The figure drew nearer, taking halting steps. It was the way he walked that frightened me. If he knew me, why didn't he simply walk up to me, or call my name? If he was merely passing by, crossing the street on his way to some destination, why did he approach in such a hesitant fashion?

  I suddenly remembered the stalker who had followed us up the Ramp on the previous night, the figure who had abruptly turned and fled back into the darkness.

  "Citizen," I said, finding my voice. "Do I know you?"

  A puff of wind caused the dust that hung in the air to swirl and disperse. Somewhere far above the earth a bit of cloud caught a dying ray of light and cast a faint glow into the gloomy street, and I caught a glimpse of the stranger's face. Surely not an assassin, I thought. Not with a face like that…

  Still, my heart began to pound in my chest.

  The door rattled. From inside I heard the sound of the bar being lifted. The door swung open and I quickly stepped back, colliding with something and turning to see Belbo smiling down at me sheepishly. "Sorry to take so long, Master. The mistr
ess insisted that I come help her-"

  "Never mind, Belbo. Do you know that man?"

  "What man, Master?"

  The figure had vanished, as quickly and surely as the dust in the air swirled and vanished at the least puff of wind. I peered up and down the street.

  "Who was it, Master?"

  "I don't know, Belbo. Perhaps nobody."

  "Nobody?"

  "A stranger, I mean. A man who just happened to be passing by. No one at all."

  Even so, later that night I found myself remembering the young man's face-a dark, gaunt face with a scraggly beard and piercing eyes. It was a face marked by some terrible catastrophe, with the kind of look one sees on men of a fallen city, numb with despair except for eyes suffused with a hopeless longing too poignant to bear. The memory of it made me shiver. It was not a face I would care to see again.

  I was in time for dinner. Bethesda received my compliments on her ragout of lamb with lentils with a barely perceptible nod and commented that Diana had done most of the cooking.

  A courier from Clodia arrived some time later, bearing the silver she had promised. She must have counted out the coins herself. They smelled faintly of her perfume.

  As we prepared for bed, Bethesda asked me how my work was going. Suspecting that Diana had reported everything she had overheard me discussing with Eco, I gave as perfunctory an answer as I could without telling an untruth.

  "And what did that woman want with you this afternoon?" she said, unbelting her stola.

  "She wanted to hear what I had to report." I said nothing about the alleged new poison plot or Clodia's scheme to send me to the Senian baths.

  "That woman has sent you down the wrong path, you know."

  "The wrong path?"

  "Going after Marcus Caelius."

  "But Bethesda, 'everybody knows' that Caelius is involved."