In Numina: Urban Fantasy in Ancient Rome (Stories of Togas, Daggers, and Magic Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Foreword
Maps
Scroll I - Insulae Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Scroll II - Inquisitio Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Scroll III - Judicium Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Chapter XLI
Chapter XLII
Chapter XLIII
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
Bonus Material
Glossary
Assaph Mehr
in Numina
Purple Toga Publications
Copyright (c) Assaph Mehr 2018
If you downloaded this book without purchase from a pirating site, please read it with the author’s compliments. If you enjoy it, please consider purchasing a legal copy to support the author in writing further books. If you still can’t afford it, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads - it helps!
Book cover design and layout by, Ellie Bockert Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios. www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanic, by photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental — with the notable exception of a few long dead Greek and Roman artists and philosophers.
Published by Purple Toga Publications, Sydney, Australia.
ISBN 978-0-9944493-5-1
1st printing
Dedicated to Raphael,
both my father and my son,
and to my lovely wife, Julia,
who bridged the gap.
Contents
Foreword
Maps
Scroll I - Insulae
Scroll II - Inquisitio
Scroll III - Judicium
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
Bonus Material
Glossary
Foreword
Having caught the bug of writing (and it is a kind of illness) and seen Murder In Absentia receive a modicum of success, there was nothing left for me to do but write a new Felix adventure.
The idea for this novel (and for several others) came to me while I was still editing and publishing MIA. It took me some time to do the research, write drafts, edit – and then go through more rounds of feedback and professional editing, but I got there in the end.
My thanks go to my wife, Julia, (who can only read my stories during daylight, but doesn’t let it stop her from urging me to keep writing), and to my editor, Nikki B Williams, (who whipped the manuscript - and me - into much better shape). Special thanks also go to my sister and her husband, Ramit Mehr and Eric Klein, for their support and input to the world of Felix.
I would also like to thank my beta readers, who took the time to read and comment on early drafts of the novel: Bonnie Milani, Brent Harris, Stephanie Barr, Rebecca Norman, Kelly Philips, Kayla Matt, Judy L Mohr, Jane Jago, Jacqueline Patterson, India Emerald, Erin Michelle Sky, CC Dowling, Brandi Trimm, Bethany Dickens, Stacie Tyson, Nick Bagrationi, Chesnaye Long, Fuchsia (Aurelia) Carter, and Anaïs Chartschenko. Thank you all for suffering through my early drafts and helping me improve my writing.
Thank you also to all he dedicated fans of Felix, who kept encouraging me with demands for his next adventure. I hope you enjoy reading this novel as much as I did writing it.
Videas lumen!
Assaph Mehr
July 2018
Sydney, Australia
Maps
High-resolution maps — as well as an expanded glossary, short stories, and more — can be found at www.egretia.com.
Scroll I - Insulae
Chapter I
Summer’s heat was inescapable, though not for lack of trying. I was lying in my loincloth in my garden fountain, letting the madly leering faun spray the waters from his erect member on me. These waters came from the Aqua Sextiae, the aqueduct that brought a fresh supply to Egretia from the six sacred springs in far-off mountains. The waters were fresh and cool at their source but travelled many miles to reach our city. And, after flowing all that distance under the brutal Sextilis sun and soaking its heat, the stream from the faun’s prodigious member felt truly authentic.
Somewhere out on the Vicus Petrosa, the main thoroughfare that ran along the ridge of the hill where my house sat, I heard a religious procession. Priests played the double flutes and banged on cymbals and drums. A bull was lowing, being led from outside the city to be sacrificed in front of some temple. My hazy mind recalled this must be the annual sacrifice to Sol Indiges. I hoped that the sacrifice would propitiate the god and that he would take his orb of fire under control and stop baking our city in its merciless heat.
I had given up all pretence of doing anything useful during the long summer days. The last bit of work I had done was to put up a sailcloth above the garden to block the sun, since there was no breeze to speak of. This was almost five weeks ago. I had not done a single day of honest work — or a night of dishonest work, for that matter — since. Business had evaporated, as all prospective employers had taken their money with them somewhere cooler. I planned to spend the last of my cash on drinks with my friend Crassitius that night and see whether he had any jobs for a desperate man. I just hoped he wouldn’t send me down the sewers to chase monsters again.
Dascha came shuffling into the courtyard. “Young domine,” she said, using the title reserved for disapproving of my actions, “there’s someone here for you.”
“Show him to my study — and bring us some water and wine while I get dressed.”
A few minutes later, still damp but dressed in a light tunic, I entered my study to find a messenger boy, who silently handed me a sealed wax tablet. So much for my excuse for wine.
“Who sent you?” I asked as I inspected the seal, which bore the emblem of an auroch.
The boy answered promptly. “My master is Lucius Valerius Flaccus.”
That was promising. The Valerii are one of the richest and most powerful families in Egretia. Of course, it meant I would have to wear a toga, which in this weather meant I might not survive the walk to his house. Better read the message.
<
br /> I broke the seal.
To Spurius Vulpius Felix from Lucius Valerius Flaccus, greetings.
I find myself in need of special services, and your name has been brought to my attention by my cousin Cornelia Rufina and her daughter Aemilia. I wish to discuss a matter in confidence, and therefore invite you to my house for a private interview tomorrow afternoon in the tenth hour of the day.
Please erase this message after you have read it and indicate your acceptance in reply.
Well, that was unexpected.
Aemilia was a young shrew who tried to upstage my investigation of her cousin’s murder, got tangled with the wrong crowd, and almost died. She was intelligent, if rather snooty, and not particularly wise.
Pretty, though. Occupied a few of my naughty dreams, but then so did her mother with whom I did have an affair. While we all parted on good terms, I did not expect to hear from either again, and I certainly did not expect a recommendation.
This could only mean one thing, I thought as I smoothed out the wax with my palm and wrote my acceptance of the invitation. Someone had run afoul of something smelling of bad magia and wished to keep it away from the authorities.
***
I was waiting in the vestibule of Valerius Flaccus’ domus, high up on the Clivi Ulterior. This was the richest part of the city, where only the elite of the nobilitas — those families with old money going back centuries — could afford a house. And the Valerii were just such a family, with consuls, censors, and rhones going back to the founding of our city.
It had taken me a long summer hour of climbing from where I live on the Meridionali. Considering the day’s heat, I had elected to forgo a toga for the trek up the hill. Instead I wore my best tunic — the one least patched and stained. I had stopped on the way to refresh myself at a public fountain, and thus had managed to arrive in something resembling dignity.
While waiting in Valerius’ atrium, I gazed at the impeccable decor. In one corner, a marble-panelled alcove housed the statues of the lares and di penates of the Valerii. The altar before them was discoloured by old wine, and a few crumbs remained from the morning’s offering of a salt cake. As my gaze wandered up, I noted the imagines of Valerius’ forefathers mounted on all four walls. Being an illustrious family with roots reaching further than the establishment of our city, there was a great number of those beeswax masks. Those austere countenances of Valerius Flaccus’ ancestors peered gravely at waiting visitors, reminding them of the greatness of the house they were about to enter.
Eventually, a slave arrived to guide me through the domus. It was more of a mansion than a house, spread on the steep inclines of Vergu. We passed through several atria and impressively large peristyle gardens, with many corridors and rooms branching off into the private areas of the mansion.
We reached a loggia that stretched around a corner, offering spectacular views down to the Bay of Egretia. From this high vantage point I saw, as if in miniature, the impressive public buildings around the Forum, the many terracotta roofs and small gardens on the two hills on the sides of the bay, and, far off, the Insula Laridae with the ever-shining Pharos lighthouse.
We neared the corner of the colonnade and soft voices drifted on the sultry air. The view shifted to the open seas, dazzling as the westering sun reflected on far-off white-capped waves. Against this backdrop, a man and two women chatted around an exquisite chryselephantine table.
The women were more dazzling than the view, and even more beautiful than I remembered them. Cornelia and her daughter Aemilia, both dark-haired, grey-eyed, fair-skinned, and as beautiful as twin Hellican statues of Aphrodite. The man, whom I presumed to be Valerius Flaccus, was in his forties and bore the characteristic fine features of that noble family — light brown hair arranged in locks around a high-cheekboned face with a slightly bumpy nose set above thin lips.
“Felix, good of you to come,” said Flaccus. “I believe you know Cornelia and Aemilia.” The women smiled at me as I sat, and I happily returned the smiles. Both women were wearing light stolas that left their arms bare, accentuating their enticing figures.
“Wine?” offered Flaccus. “It’s from my private estates on the foothills of Vergu.” He poured the dark purple liquid into a glass goblet and added water from a silver pitcher.
I picked the glass up and flinched — it was ice cold. Flaccus chuckled. “I have my kitchen supplied with ice blocks all summer. There is an incantator in town that specialises in it. Makes life in the Egretian heat much more civilised.”
We continued to discuss the weather and ways to combat it for a short while. Valerius Flaccus was a politician from a noble family — small talk with charm and grace on any subject came naturally to him. I didn’t mind. I was sure he would get to my commission in time. Meanwhile, I got to enjoy the view, the wine, and the company.
Especially the company. Whate happened between us on the boat trip back from Kebros two months ago must have met with Cornelia’s approval, for her leg brushed against mine under the table a bit too often to be merely accidental.
Sadly, I didn’t get to enjoy it for long. “Cousins Cornelia and Aemilia have told me about your work following the death of young Caeso Quinctius,” said Flaccus. “It seems I am now facing a situation that may benefit from the skills of someone with your background. This matter could turn out to be mundane — or not. I need someone who can handle either.” He paused, and I savoured my wine while I waited for him to organise his thoughts and continue.
“Am I correct in assuming you are aware of the business restrictions on senators? I cannot actively participate in businesses except those involving land ownership. I own interests in several enterprises, but always as a silent partner — a mere shareholder. My main business is property — from latifundia farms to the far south and east, to insulae here in Egretia. And it’s here in the insulae where the problem lies.” He paused, sipping his wine thoughtfully.
“As any landlord will tell you,” Flaccus continued, “tenants come and go. There is nothing unusual about it. Properties are never fully occupied. But recently, it seems, more residents in my insulae are leaving rather than staying. At first, it was dismissed as a bad season. But over the days and weeks — and it has been going on since spring, I should say — it has become a real issue. My agent now reports he cannot get new tenants, even for disastrously low rents.”
“Is this the situation with all your insulae?” I asked.
“It started with the low-class tenements,” replied Flaccus. “The ones in the Subvales. Those are usually always full, even the ten-storey buildings. Our city never seems to run out of the poor and miserable who need housing. But, it turns out, those tenements were just the first to be affected. I have other insulae scattered all around town, varying in elegance in relation to their location and size. Some of my better holdings are here on the upper slopes — sumptuous apartments for discerning clientele.” He leaned toward me conspiratorially, “You would be surprised at how many of the rich still require a discreet and private place away from their main home.” He sat back, a grave expression on his face. “My fear is that this problem is starting to spread out of the Subvales.”
I doubted Valerius could tell me anything about housing arrangements of the rich that would surprise me, but I’ve always held myself a cynic. “And why me, then?” I asked instead.
“I need this issue resolved while it only affects my lower-class holdings, before it reaches the ears of the people who matter. I have made some enquiries, you see, quizzed my agent and had him ask the residents. It seems the reason I can’t find new tenants, why the old ones are leaving, is, well… word on the street is that my properties are haunted!”
That sounded like my kind of business. It also explained why Cornelia and Aemilia recommended my services. The experiences we shared over the death of Aemilia’s cousin Caeso Quinctius were the best calling card I had — and indeed it seemed I
was beginning to attract a better class of employers than was my usual wont.
As for the matter at hand, although I have dealt with a few real shades of the dead in the past — never a pleasant encounter — I fully expected this to be some kind of elaborate hoax. These things often are.
Out loud, I said, “I would be happy to assist you in this matter. I have a modicum of experience with such, and I’m sure I can find the root cause of your troubles to your satisfaction. To do so, I will need a list of the affected properties, the name of your agent who deals with them, and letters of introduction to ensure I get his and the tenants’ cooperation. I will get started right away.”
Aemilia coughed lightly, and Valerius Flaccus shifted in his chair. “Oh, do go on,” said Cornelia. “We discussed this, and you know I have given my consent.”
“It seems…,” he began. “It seems cousin Aemilia has some reservations regarding her recommendation of you.” I glanced at her, and she flashed me the sweetest smile — which I trusted not at all.
“The last time you worked together,” Flaccus continued, “there was some business of hoodwinking the governor of the Kebric Isles. Now, I understand there was an issue with national security,” he added hastily, “and that you never betrayed your employer’s trust. However, Aemilia has had very fine education in her youth, and…”
“And she would be verifying my reports?” I said. “Don’t worry, I am sure —”
“Not quite,” Flaccus cut me off. “She’ll be accompanying you during your investigations.”
I was dumbstruck. Aemilia was still smiling sweetly, although there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. The corner of Cornelia’s lips turned up, and she could barely contain her giggles.
As soon as I found my tongue, I protested. “This is most unusual, not to mention quite risky! I will not be able to speak freely to informants, my work often starts at dawn and carries through the night, I may have to chase leads to very unseemly places — even downright unwholesome one — and we all know that danger and violence can spring at any moment. We’ve seen it with Caeso’s death. I mean, Aemilia was kidnapped and almost sacrificed! And what about prospective husbands? Should word of this leak, the young lady will never be able to find a suitable match.”