I thought about this. ‘I don’t know. Did she try to blackmail you?’
‘No. But I wasn’t so foolish as to tell her anything I didn’t want her to know.’
‘How are you so certain that she was merely putting on a performance?’
Antonia sighed. ‘You really don’t know? Then I suppose I’ll tell you. After she finished her “prophesying” – after I threw her out – I decided to have her followed. I have a fellow who’s very good at that. I didn’t expect him to discover anything useful. I thought she’d simply go back to the wharf where I’d found her or to some hovel in the Subura, or wherever such creatures come from. But instead she headed for the neighbourhood past the Circus Maximus. You know the sort of riffraff who live around there – actors, mimes, chariot racers, acrobats. When Cassandra arrived at her destination, my man recognized the place at once. How many times had he followed my husband to the very same house?’
‘Cassandra went directly from your house . . . to the house of Cytheris?’
‘Exactly. I’m told it’s quite a nice little place. Her former master Volumnius bought it for her when he made her a freedwoman – a sort of parting gift for many services rendered, I have no doubt. You know why he freed her? It was at Antony’s request – a sort of goodwill gesture by which Volumnius hoped to ingratiate himself with Caesar’s chief lieutenant. To save face, Volumnius put it about that he’d had his fill of the little whore and didn’t mind passing her on to Antony. But I know he was peeved. Well, if he wasn’t yet ready to let go of her, he was a fool to show her off at that party where Antony met her. They say Cytheris learned all sorts of ways to please a man – things no respectable woman would consider doing – back in Alexandria where she comes from. That’s where her first master, the one before Volumnius, taught her to be an actress. Oh, I call her an actress, but of course women aren’t allowed to perform in legitimate plays, only in mime shows, and that’s hardly acting, is it? Just a lot of buffoonery and half-naked dancing and declaiming lewd poems. The sort of vulgar nonsense Antony adores!’
‘You were saying that Cassandra went to the house of Cytheris . . .’
‘Exactly! Now what sort of coincidence could that be? Immediately after seeing Antony’s wife, Cassandra pays a visit to Antony’s mistress. Or should I say, “reports” to Antony’s mistress.’
‘Perhaps she was calling on someone else in Cytheris’ household.’
‘No. My man managed to climb onto the roof of the neighbouring house, where he could see down into Cytheris’ garden. He’d done that before as well, keeping an eye on Antony for me. He saw Cytheris greet Cassandra as if they were old friends. Then they sat and shared wine together and talked for a long time.’
‘About what?’
‘My man wasn’t able to hear. They were too far away and kept their voices low. But he heard them laugh occasionally – at me, I have no doubt! Well, I’d sent the bitch away without paying her a sesterce, and I’d told her nothing she could use to embarrass me, so I’m afraid I spoiled whatever scheme those two were hatching against me.’
‘You think Cassandra was somehow in league with Cytheris?’
‘Of course! Don’t you see? They’re both actresses! That must be how they know each other. They probably met while performing together in some wretched mime show somewhere between here and Alexandria. Ambitious little ferrets! Cytheris managed to get herself nicely set up, thanks to Volumnius and my husband. Meanwhile, Cassandra got herself invited into the best homes in Rome by putting on a mime show of her own, pretending to utter prophecies while falling under some god’s spell, all the while working who knows what sort of mischief. Whoever killed her did the decent people of Rome a great favour. That’s why I went to her funeral – to see her burn! If only someone would do the same to that accursed Cytheris so that I could have the pleasure of watching the flames devour her carcass!’
In a burst of fury, she threw her cup across the garden. A hapless peacock shrieked and skittered away.
‘I understand why you despise Cytheris,’ I said. ‘But what did Cassandra do to make you hate her so? What was the prophecy she spoke to you?’
Antonia glared at me. ‘For the last time, it wasn’t a prophecy; it was a performance. But if you must know – very well, I’ll tell you. For quite a while she rolled her eyes and jerked and muttered a lot of unintelligible noises. Then, gradually, I could make out words. Oh, Cassandra was very good! She made you listen hard to hear her, all the better to convince you that it must be something very special she was uttering. She said . . .’
Antonia stared into space and hesitated so long that I thought she had decided not to tell me. Finally she cleared her throat and went on. ‘She said she saw a lion and a lioness and their young cub dwelling in a cave. There was a terrible storm raging, but inside the cave all was warm and dry and safe. Eventually, despite the storm, the lion went off to forage. He found a gazelle, such a beautiful, graceful creature that, instead of attacking the gazelle, he mated with it. To get back at him, the lioness invited another lion into her cave and mated with him. But that lion already had a mate, and he soon left her. And her original mate was so happy gambolling about the countryside with his gazelle that he never returned. So in the end, the lioness was left alone . . . forever. Except for her cub, of course . . .’
At that moment the screaming young girl reappeared, dressed in a tunica now, but in the same bad humour. She ran across the garden to her mother, let out an ear-piercing scream, and threw her hands around Antonia’s waist. Antonia tensed every muscle. Such a look of mingled fury and despair crossed her face that for a moment I feared she might strike the child. Instead, she took a deep breath and put her arms around the little girl, squeezing so tightly that the child struggled to pull free and finally did so, running back the way she had come, scattering peacocks in her wake and streaking past the overwhelmed nurse in the doorway.
Antonia stared after the child. Her face hardened. ‘As long as she was making it all up, why tell me things to confirm my own worst fears? Why not make up lies to please me? For a happy vision of the future, I might have given her a few coins and sent her on her way and forgotten all about her. No, she put on that little performance deliberately to torment me, and afterwards she went running to her friend Cytheris, and the two of them had a good laugh at my expense. I’m glad she’s dead! If someone else hadn’t done it, I might have murdered her myself.’
IX
The fourth time I saw Cassandra was on the day Marcus Caelius made his boldest – and last – appearance in the Forum.
Obedient to Bethesda’s wishes – and leery myself of the violence that had been erupting – I avoided going to the Forum for almost a month following the riot that broke out after the consul Isauricus broke Caelius’ chair of state. I whiled away the month of Aprilis in my garden, worrying over the ever-increasing debts I owed to Volumnius the banker, unable to see a way to continue feeding my family without going even further into debt.
All my life I had avoided becoming a debtor. I had even managed to accumulate a modest amount of savings, which I had deposited for security with Volumnius. He was a banker with an excellent reputation, trusted by everyone from Cicero to Caesar. But with the war had come shortages, and with shortages had come outlandish prices, even for the most basic staples of life. I had seen the savings of a lifetime devoured by butchers and bakers in a matter of months. Volumnius – or rather his agents, for I never dealt with the man directly – saw my deposits dwindle to nothing, then offered to extend credit. What could I do but accept? I fell into the trap and learned what every debtor knows: a debt is like a baby, for it begins small but rapidly grows, and the bigger it gets, the louder it cries out to be fed.
Brooding in my garden, I reluctantly admitted to myself that I missed the jabbering of the chin-waggers down in the Forum. Opinionated old fools they might be, but at least their complaints took my mind off my own problems; and every now and then one of them actually said something int
elligent. I missed reading the Daily Acts posted in the Forum, with the latest news of Caesar’s movements, even if I knew that nothing in such notices was to be entirely trusted since they were dictated by the consul Isauricus. To be sure, Davus and Hieronymus still made forays down to the Forum and always brought back the latest gossip, but there was something stale and unnourishing about such third-hand information. I was a Roman citizen, and the public life of the Forum was part of the very fabric of my existence.
One afternoon I could no longer stand my idleness and isolation. Bethesda, Diana, and Davus had gone to the markets to spend my latest loan from Volumnius. Hieronymus was in my study perusing a very old volume of The Punic War by Naevius that Cicero had given me as a gift many years ago; it was the most valuable scroll I owned, and so far I had resisted selling it, since I couldn’t hope to get anything approaching its true value. Bored and restless, on a whim I did something I had not done in a very long time. I left my house unaccompanied, taking not even Mopsus or Androcles with me.
Later I would question my motive for leaving the house alone that day. Did I not know, in some corner of my mind, exactly where my feet were taking me when I set out? I decided to avoid the Forum, so I crossed the Palatine Hill and descended on the east side, wandering past the Senian Baths, wending my way through increasingly narrower streets as I entered the neighbourhood of the Subura.
If someone had asked me where I was headed, I couldn’t have said. I was simply out for a walk, enjoying the weather, trying for a while to forget my troubles. Yet every step brought me closer. It was the barking of the Molossian mastiff chained beside the front door that startled me to my senses. I stopped and stared dumbly at the beast, then confronted the red-washed facade of the shabby tenement where Cassandra lived.
I stepped towards the doorway. The dog stopped barking. Did the beast recognize me? Did he remember that I had visited the building a month before, when I was carried in, unconscious, by Rupa, and then a little later was escorted out by him? The dog made no objection when I stepped through the doorway. He looked up at me and wagged his tail.
I was at once surrounded by a familiar mix of odours – boiled cabbage, urine, unwashed humanity. My memory was poorer than the mastiff’s; I wasn’t sure which doorway opened into Cassandra’s room. Each doorway was covered by a ragged curtain to afford a degree of privacy. One of the curtains, a faded blue, looked vaguely familiar. I stood before it for a long moment, listening, but heard nothing from within. I might have called her name, but somehow I knew the room was empty. I lifted the curtain and stepped inside.
It was just as I recalled. The floor was packed earth. A high, narrow window afforded a view of the yellow building next door and a bit of sky; from nearby came the sound of clanging metal from the Street of Copper Pots. The only furnishings were a crudely made folding chair and a threadbare pallet strewn with equally threadbare pillows. A few thin coverlets were neatly folded on the pallet. Next to the coverlets was a curious object: a short baton made of leather. I picked it up. Imbedded in the surface I saw the impression of human teeth. If I were to give it a name, I would have called the thing a biting stick. I put it back where I had found it.
The walls were bare. There was no box or pouch for keeping coins or trinkets. There was not even a lamp to light the room at night. Cassandra had no need to fear leaving the room unattended. There was nothing here to steal.
I heard a noise and turned to see her standing in the doorway. She stared at me and let the curtain drop behind her.
Her hair was slightly damp. Her cheeks were red from scrubbing. I realized she must have just returned from a visit to the public baths. In Rome, even beggars can enjoy the luxury of a hot bath for the price of a few coins.
There was no surprise on her face. She looked almost as if she had been expecting me. Perhaps, I thought, she does possess some sort of second sight.
‘Snooping?’ she said. ‘There’s not much to see. If you’d like, I can tie back the curtain to let in a bit more light.’
‘No, that won’t be necessary.’ I stepped away from the pallet to the centre of the room. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean to snoop. Force of habit, I suppose.’
‘Did someone send you here?’ She didn’t sound angry, merely curious.
‘No.’
‘Then why did you come?’
I don’t know, I was about to say, but that would have been a lie. ‘I came to see you.’
She nodded slowly. ‘In that case, I’ll leave the curtain over the doorway. That will give us a little privacy. Most of the tenants are out of the building at this hour anyway, scavenging for something to eat.’ She crossed her arms. ‘Are you sure you weren’t spying on me? Isn’t that what people pay you to do? Isn’t that why they call you the Finder?’
‘I don’t recall telling you that.’
‘No? Someone else must have told me.’
‘Who?’
She shrugged. ‘What was it you said to me last time? “You’re not entirely unknown in the Forum.” Neither are you, Gordianus. People know you by sight. They know your reputation. Perhaps I was a little curious about you after having you here in my room. Perhaps I asked a few questions here and there. I know quite a few things about you, Gordianus the Finder. I think that you and I are very much alike.’
I laughed. ‘Are we?’ Staring into her blue eyes, acutely aware of her youth and her beauty, I could hardly imagine anyone with whom I had less in common.
‘We are. You seek the truth; the truth seeks me out. In the end we both find it, only in different ways. We each have a special gift. That gift wasn’t something we chose; it chose us. The gift is ours whether we want it or not, and we must do with it what we can. A gift can also be a curse.’
‘I’m not sure I understand. People say that you have the gift of prophecy, but what’s my gift?’
She smiled. ‘Something far more valuable, I should think. I’m told that people feel compelled to confide in you, to tell you secrets, even when they shouldn’t. Something in you draws the truth out of them. I should think that must be a very powerful gift indeed. Has it not provided all that you’ve gained in life? Your fortune, your family, the respect of powerful men?’
‘My fortune, such as it was, has been swallowed up by a certain greedy banker. My family has been torn apart. As for the respect of powerful men, I’m not sure what that’s worth. If you can show me a way to eat it, I’ll prepare it for dinner and invite you to take the first portion.’
‘You sound bitter, Gordianus.’
‘No. Just weary.’
‘Perhaps you need to rest.’ She drew closer. Her freshly washed body smelled slightly of the jasmine perfume used to scent the cold plunge at the women’s baths. Bethesda sometimes returned home from the baths carrying the same scent. Cassandra’s hand brushed against mine.
‘Where is Rupa?’ I lowered my voice, for she had drawn very close.
She answered in a whisper. ‘Out scavenging, like everyone else. I don’t expect him back anytime soon.’
Many thoughts crossed my mind at once. I thought of the foolishness of men, especially men of my age, when they confront a beautiful young woman. I considered the implications of taking advantage of a woman subject to fits of insanity. I stared into Cassandra’s eyes searching for some sign of madness there, but saw only a flame that drew me like a moth.
I put my hands on her shoulders. I bent my face to hers. I touched my lips to hers and slid my arms around her. I pressed the slender warmth of her body firmly against mine. I felt an exhilaration, a thrilling sensation of being alive that I had not felt in many years.
Suddenly she broke from the kiss and slipped out of my arms. I cringed and felt my face turn hot. I had miscalculated the moment, after all. I had made a fool of myself – or had she made a fool of me?
Then, with a start, I realized that Rupa had entered the room.
He hadn’t seen the kiss. Cassandra, her ears accustomed to the sound of his footsteps in the hall, ha
d heard him coming and had pulled away from me an instant before he stepped through the curtain. Nevertheless, he was agitated about something and signalling frantically with his hands. Just as I had been able to interpret the signs Eco had used in the years when he was mute, so Cassandra could understand what Rupa was trying to tell her.
‘Something’s happening in the Forum,’ she said.
‘Isn’t there always?’ I said.
‘No, this is different. Something important. Something big. I think it has to do with that magistrate who’s been stirring up trouble.’
‘Marcus Caelius?’ I looked at Rupa, who answered with an exaggerated nod. Then he made the universal sign of a hand drawn like a blade across his throat.
‘Caelius is dead?’ I said, alarmed.
Rupa waved his hand. ‘Not yet,’ Cassandra interpreted, ‘but perhaps very soon.’
Rupa seized her hand and led her out. Even then, confused as I was by the sudden turn of events, I wondered why a humble beggar like Cassandra should be so interested in the fortunes of a politician like Caelius. On both of the two previous occasions when Caelius had caused chaos in the Forum, she had been there. Was that due to simple coincidence?
I had no time to wonder, for I was caught up in the rush to the Forum, following after Rupa and Cassandra.
The closer we drew to the Forum, the more crowded the street became. As Rupa had promised, something very big was taking place, stirring excitement and attracting people from all over the city. News spreads quicker than fire in Rome, from rooftop to rooftop and window to window. People came rushing out of buildings and side streets to join the crush, like rivulets flowing into a river.
Where it emptied into the Forum, the street became completely jammed. People continued to rush up behind us, making it impossible to either advance or retreat. I felt a prickle of fear. If violence were to break out anywhere in the crowd, there could be a panic and perhaps a stampede. I cursed my bad fortune. For a month I had stayed away from the Forum, fearing just such a predicament. On the one day I chose to go out, I found myself quite literally in the thick of it.
A Mist of Prophecies Page 13
