Arms of Nemesis - Roman Sub Rosa 02
Book Jacket
Series: Roman Sub Rosa [2]
Tags: Historical Novel
SUMMARY:
The hideously disfigured body of Lucius Licinius was found in the atrium. The only clues are a blood-soaked cloak, and, carved into the stone at the corpse’s feet, the word Sparta….For Gordianus the Finder, summoned from Rome to a luxury resort on the Bay of Naples, the case is agonizing. The overseer of Marcus Crassus’s estate has been murdered, apparently by two slaves bent on joining Spartacus’s revolt. The wealthy, powerful Crassus vows to honor an ancient law and kill his ninety-nine remaining slaves in retaliation. From the brutal stench of a slave galley to the limpid, sea-glazed beauty of Baiae and the sulphurous pits of the Sybil at Cumae, Giordanus draws closer to the terrifying truth. Enmeshed in a world of desperate slaves and duplicitous masters, extravagant feasts and sordid secrets, he must risk all he loves, including his life, to stop a senseless slaughter-and save the very future of Rome itself.AUTHORBIO: STEVEN SAYLOR is the author of eight books in the Roma Sub Rosa featuring Gordianus the Finder, most recently Roman Blood.He divides his time between homes in Austin, Texas, and Berkeley, California.
Steven Saylor is the author of Roma Sub Rosa, a series of mystery novels set in ancient Rome and featuring investigator Gordianus the Finder. His work has been widely praised for its remarkably accurate and vivid historical detail, as well as for its passion, mystery and intrigue, and the skilful blending of real and imagined historical characters.
Other novels in the series are Roman Blood, Catilina’s Riddle, The Venus Throw, A Murder on the Appian Way and Rubicon. All are in paperback from Constable & Robinson Ltd. Steven Saylor lives in Berkeley, California.
More praise for Steven Saylor
‘This [is a] wonderfully clever series.’ New York Times Book Review
‘Saylor’s sense of style and elegantly witty writing make the most of this genre
transference’ The Boston Guide
‘What Steven Saylor brings to his work are a profound knowledge of the history and culture of ancient Rome and a gift of storytelling only exhibited by those few who are born with it. His work can be enjoyed by all mystery readers regardless of whether they prefer cosies or hardboiled crime fiction.’ Deadly Pleasures
‘Among the best historical series … and the best to use an Ancient Roman
background.’ Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine
‘Part of the attraction … comes from watching lofty figures in history, tragedy and Latin II behaving as nobly and sordidly as real people in daily life … And Saylor is not the dry-as-dust type; he offers us sex, violence, duplicity and a woridly acceptance of the varieties of human behaviour - there’s an unpretentious lightness of touch in everything.’ Boston Globe
‘You read Saylor because of the skill with which he brings an ancient world to life.’
Lambda Book Report
Praise for Arms of Nemesis
‘A compulsively entertaining whodunnit.’ New York Times Book Review
‘A most intriguing mystery … highly researched and authentic historical background … characters all of whom are realistic flesh-and-blood people.’ The Southbridge Ma. News
‘Steven Saylor impeccably recreates life in Imperial Rome … an intriguing mix of historical accuracy and tense drama. Gordianus proves a beguiling if
arrogant hero.’ St. Louis Post Dispatch
‘Saylor manages to be both entertaining and exact in his depictions of Roman life and customs. He is also a deft writer of characters and Arms of Nemesis is filled with eccentric and engaging suspects … a surprising and suspenseful mystery.’
First Hand
‘Saylor interweaves history and suspense into another seamless thriller … A marvellously authentic slice of antiquity that will serve as a savoury treat for fans of both mystery and historical fiction.’ Booklist
‘Fine mystery, great history, this novel is crammed with vivid details of patrician and slave life. After reading the below-decks description of a trireme you’ll thank your lucky stars you’re not a galley slave.’ Omnibus
‘Sensuously written … Richly detailed bacchanalian feasts and mesmerizing visits to the Sybil at Cumae lead to the spellbinding conclusion.’ Publisher’s Weekly
Offbeat and intriguing reading.’ San Francisco Chronicle
‘Arms of Nemesis has a well-researched, authentic feel, captivating descriptions of Roman customs and mythologies, and interesting characters, enlivened from the pages of history.’
San Francisco Sentinel
‘A top-notch murder mystery … There is enough excitement … enough love … enough blood … enough pathos … And yet the end is satisfying.’ The Community Voice
‘Steven Saylor’s amusing murder mystery [Arms of Nemesis] has a veritable bouillabaisse of suspects.’ Anniston Star
Praise for Roman Blood
‘Gordianus the Finder is a Roman private investigator, something like Sherlock Holmes and something like the hardboiled American PI… [He] visits all strata of Roman life and gives a vivid picture of ancient society to go with the complex puzzle … This is a remarkable achievement.’ Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine
‘A story gready enhanced by its vivid characters … A classic historical mystery, in every sense.’ Publisher’s Weekly
‘A combination of Hitchcock-style suspense and vivid historical details make Stephen Saylor’s Roman Blood one of the most gripping - and also informative -mysteries to have appeared in quite some time.’ Post-Gazette, PA
‘A brilliant example of Saylor’s mastery of his material… triple sensitivities of style, place and plot that readers will not fail to appreciate for themselves.’ Lambda Book Review
‘An exciting trip through the history and politics of Rome.’ Deadly Pleasures
‘Saylor skilfully strings together the multiple threads of the plot to reveal dirty dealings of murder, greed, incest, deceit, corruption, and vices galore. A well thought out and finely tuned mystery novel.’ The Community Voice
“This engrossing historical novel … contains all the elements that make an entertaining mystery and also provides a view of life in Ancient Rome. Highly recommended.’ Booklist
‘Genuine mystery and detection…with two handsome surprises saved for last.’
Kirkus Reviews
‘Roman Blood has the elements that make a good old-fashioned detective story great ��� dangerous thugs, powerful villains and a brooding, noir ambience … The plot is tightly woven and Saylor threads history deftly throughout the novel… The action is fast paced and at rimes thrilling … There are enough surprises along the way to satisfy even the most accomplished mystery reader, and the difficult setting is ultimately pulled off with convincing flair. The conclusion is especially satisfying and chilling.’ Daily Texan
‘A witty, meticulous recreation of Cicero’s Rome as well as a deft and clever mystery.’ The Boston Guide
Praise for A Murder on the Appian Way
‘A fine series… [Murder on the Appian Way] is a richly detailed, fast-paced tale.’ Seattle Times/Post Intelligencer
‘Wonderfully (and gracefully) researched … This is entertainment of the first
order.’ Lambda Book Report
‘As always, Saylor sketches the real-life historical background with a masterly hand.’ Kirkus Reviews
‘The suspense never lags as Saylor spins a sophisticated political thriller that also brings readers up to speed on Roman history.’ Publisher’s Weekly
‘Mr Saylor puts such great detail and tumultuous life into his scenes that the sensation of rubbing elbows with th
e ancients is quite uncanny.’ New York Times Book Review
ARMS OF NEMESIS
Steven Saylor
A Mystery of Ancient Rome
Constable & Robinson Ltd 3 The Lanchesters 162 Fulham Palace Road London W6 9ER www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson Publishing Ltd 1997
First published in the USA by Ballantine Books 1992
Copyright �� Steven Saylor 1992,1997 Map copyright �� Steven Saylor
The authors moral right has been asserted
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication data is available from the British Library
ISBN 1-85487-974-X
Printed in the EC
CONTENTS
Part One CORPSES, LIVING AND DEAD
Part Two THE JAWS OF HADES
Part Three DEATH IN A CUP
Part Four FUNERAL GAMES
Epilogue Author’s Note
The BAYS of NAPLES
At the Time of the Spartacan Slave Revolt, 72 B.C.
Part One
Corpses, Living and Dead
For all his fine qualities ��� his honesty and devotion, his cleverness, his uncanny agility ��� Eco was not well suited for answering the door. Eco was mute.
But he was not and has never been deaf. He has, in fact, the sharpest ears of anyone I’ve ever known. He is also a light sleeper, a habit held over from the wretched, watchful days of his childhood, before his mother abandoned him and I took him in from the street and finally adopted him. Not surprisingly, it was Eco who heard the knock at the door in the second hour after nightfall, when everyone in the household had gone to bed. It was Eco who greeted my nocturnal visitor, but was unable to send him away, short of shooing at him the way a farmer shoos an errant goose from his doorway.
Therefore, what else could Eco have done? He might have roused Belbo, my strong-armer. Hulking and reeking of garlic and stupidly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Belbo might have intimidated my visitor, but I doubt that he could have got rid of him; the stranger was persistent and twice as clever as Belbo is strong. So Eco did what he had to do; he made a sign for my visitor to wait in the doorway and came rapping gendy at my door. Rapping having failed to rouse me - generous helpings of Bethesda’s fish and barley soup washed down with white wine had sent me fast asleep ��� Eco gingerly opened the door, tiptoed into the room, and shook my shoulder.
Beside me Bethesda stirred and sighed. A mass of black hair had somehow setded across my face and neck. The shifting strands tickled my nose and lips. The odour of her perfumed henna sent a quiver of erotic tingling below my waist. I reached for her, making my lips into a kiss, running my hands over her body. How was it possible, I wondered, that she could reach all the way over and around me to tug at my shoulder from behind?
Eco never liked to make those grunting, half-animal noises eked out by the speechless, finding such measures degrading and embarrassing. He preferred to remain austerely silent, like the Sphinx, and to let his hands speak for him. He gripped my shoulder harder and shook it just a bit more firmly. I recognized his touch then, as surely as one knows a familiar voice. I could even understand what he was saying.
‘Someone at the door?’ I mumbled, clearing my throat and keeping my eyes shut for a moment longer.
Eco gave my shoulder a little slap of assent, his way of saying ‘yes’ in the dark.
I snuggled against Bethesda, who had turned her back on the disturbance. I touched my Lips to her shoulder. She let out a breath, something between a coo and a sigh. In all my travels from the Pillars of Hercules to the Parthian border, I have never met a more responsive woman. Like an exquisitely crafted lyre, I thought to myself, perfectly tuned and polished, growing finer with the years; what a lucky man you are, Gordianus the Finder, what a find you made in that slave market in Alexandria fifteen years ago.
Somewhere under the sheets the kitten was stirring. Egyptian to her core, Bethesda has always kept cats and even invites them into our bed. This one was traversing the valley between our bodies, picking a path from thigh to thigh. So far it had kept its claws hidden; a good thing, since in the last few moments my most vulnerable part had grown conspicuously more vulnerable and the kitten seemed to be heading straight for it, perhaps thinking it was a serpent to play with. I snuggled against Bethesda for protection. She sighed. I remembered a rainy night at least ten years ago, before Eco joined us ��� a different cat, a different bed, but the very same house, the house that my father left me, and the two of us, Bethesda and myself, younger but not so very different from today. I dozed, nearly dreaming.
Two sharp slaps landed on my shoulder.
Two slaps was Eco’s way of saying ‘no,’ like shaking his head. No, he would not or could not send my visitor away.
He tapped me again, twice sharply on the shoulder. ‘All right, all right!’ I muttered. Bethesda rolled aggressively away, dragging the sheet with her and exposing me to the dank September air. The kitten tumbled toward me, sticking out its claws as it flailed for balance.
‘Numa’s balls!’ I snapped, though it wasn’t fabled King Numa who found himself wounded by a single tiny claw. Eco discreetly ignored my yelp of pain. Bethesda laughed sleepily in the darkness.
I snapped out of bed and fumbled for my tunic. Eco was already holding it ready for me to crawl into. ‘This had better be important!’ I said.
It was important, just how important I had no way of knowing that night, and not for some time after. If the emissary waiting in my vestibule had made himself clear, if he had been frank about why and for whom he had come, I would have bent to his wishes without the least hesitation. Such a case and such a client as fell into my lap that night are few and far between; I would have fought for the chance to take on the job. Instead, the man, who curtly introduced himself as Marcus Mummius, affected an air of portentous secrecy and treated me with a suspicion that bordered on contempt.
He told me that my services were needed, without delay, for a job that would take me away from Rome for several days. ‘Are you in some sort of trouble?’ I asked.
‘Not me!’ he bellowed. He seemed incapable of talking in a tone of voice reasonable for a sleeping household. His words came out in a series of grunts and barks, the way that one speaks to an unruly slave or a bad dog. There is no language as ugly as Latin when it is spoken in such a fashion - barracks-fashion, I mean, for as sleepy as I was and as numbed with the evening’s wine, I was beginning to make certain deductions about my uninvited guest. Disguised behind his well-trimmed beard, his austere but expensive-looking black tunic, his finely made boots and plush woollen cloak, I saw a soldier, a man used to giving orders and being instantly obeyed.
‘Well,’ he said, looking me up and down as if I were a lazy recruit fresh out of bed and dragging my feet before the day’s march. ‘Are you coming or not?’
Eco, offended at such rudeness, put his hands on his hips and glowered. Mummius threw back his head and snorted in a fit of impatience.
I cleared my throat. ‘Eco,’ I said, ‘fetch me a cup of wine, please. Warmed, if you can; see if the embers are still glowing in the kitchen. And a cup for you as well, Marcus Mummius?’ My guest scowled and shook his head sharply, like a good legionnaire on guard duty.
‘Some warm cider, perhaps? No, I insist, Marcus Mummius. The night is cool. Come, follow me into my study. Look, Eco has already lit the lamps for us; he anticipates all my needs. Here, sit - no, I insist. Now, Marcus Mummius, I take it you’ve come here offering me work.’
In the brighter light of the study I could see that Mummius looked worn and tired, as if he had not slept properly for some t
ime. He fidgeted in his chair and held his eyes open with an unnatural alertness. After a moment he sprang up and began pacing, and when Eco came with his warm cider he refused to take it. Thus does a soldier on a long watch refuse to make himself comfortable for fear that sleep will come against his will.
‘Yes,’ he finally said. ‘I have come to summon you���’
‘Summon me? No one summons Gordianus the Finder. I am a citizen, no man’s slave or freedman, and at last report Rome was still a Republic, amazingly enough, and not a dictatorship. Other citizens come to consult me, to ask for my services, to hire me. And they usually come during daylight. At least the honest ones do.’
Mummius appeared to be working hard to contain his exasperation. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he said. ‘You’ll be paid, of course, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m authorized to offer you five times your regular daily pay, considering the inconvenience and the . . travel,’ he said cautiously. ‘Five days of guaranteed pay, plus all your lodging and expenses.’
He had my full attention. From the comer of my eye I saw Eco raise an eyebrow, counselling me to be shrewd; children of the streets grow up to be hard bargainers. ‘Very generous, Marcus Mummius, very generous,’ I said. ‘Of course you may not realize that I had to raise my rates only last month. Prices in Rome keep shooting up, what with this slave revolt and the invincible Spartacus rampaging through the countryside, spreading chaos���’
‘Invincible?’ Mummius seemed personally offended. ‘Spartacus invincible? We’ll soon see about that.’
‘Invincible when confronted by a Roman army, I mean. The Spartacans have beaten every contingent sent against them; they’ve even sent two Roman consuls running home in disgrace. I suppose that when Pompey���’
‘Pompey!’ Mummius spat the name.
‘Yes, I suppose that when Pompey finally manages to bring back his troops from Spain, the revolt will be quickly disposed of…’ I rambled on only because the topic seemed to irritate my guest, and I wanted to keep him distracted while I drove up my price.
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