“ALL RIGHT; TAKE your time, son.” The senator had found a jug of water and a beaker. Aelianus rinsed his teeth and spat into the beaker. Patiently I emptied it into the Athenianware he had already used, rinsed the beaker, then poured fresh water, which I made him drink.

“So,” I said firmly. “Your father told me you went to partake in the main day of worship amid the corn wreaths and dinner napkins. Stuffing your face in the cause of new growth at the Arval Brothers’ Sacred Grove-was that where this happened?”

Aelianus sat up straighter and nodded. I chivvied him, brisk as a legionary commander taking details from a scout: “The Grove is where?”

“Five miles outside the city on the Via Portuensis.” He had served in the army and civil government. He could give a reliable report when he chose.

“Are we talking about some verdant circle of venerable trees?”

“No. It is more like a forum complex. It has a circus, several temples, and a Caesarium for the deified emperors.”

“How modern! Silly me, I had expected some rustic haven.”

“The Emperor Augustus brought the rites up to date. The cult had fallen into abeyance rather-”

“Of course! He interfered in everything. So just set the scene for me.”

“There has been a day of worship, followed by games and races.”

“Members of the public?”

“Yes.”

“All men?”

“No.”

“Is the revelry over?”

“People are hanging on. Most of the Brothers have returned to Rome for another feast at the house of the current Master.” He paused. “ Well, except for one of them.” I noted that remark, but let him carry on. “I came home early. People who had been at the Games were still enjoying themselves in the Grove.”

“What made you leave early?”

Aelianus sighed. “One of the Brothers had taken me aside and warned me that they felt I was not quite ready for the burdens of election to such a demanding cult. He obviously meant I was not important enough.” Aelianus dropped his gaze; his father compressed his mouth. “I felt low. I tried to continue with a brave face, but I kept hearing the snide bastard saying what a good impression I had made, and how sincerely the Brothers hoped I would find some other way to apply my supposed talents… I could not bear the way people looked at me. I know I should have braved it out…”

He paused for a moment, leaning on his elbow with one palm covering his mouth. The splayed fingers had bitten nails. I put a hand on his shoulder. Where my thumb touched skin under the edge of his tunic it felt cold. He was in shock.

Aelianus continued in a quiet voice, “My horse was just outside the Grove, where they had set up a picket line. To get back there I had to walk past a pavilion for the Master, a big temporary tent. I heard a group of people coming out, so I dodged quickly around the back to avoid them. I stumbled over one of the guy ropes; then I literally fell onto the body.”

He stopped again briefly. “I assumed the man was drunk. I don’t know what made me anxious. But I felt my heart race even before I looked properly. The people I had heard all went off in another direction. Silence fell. Nobody was about. I could hardly take in what I saw. It was horrible. He was lying in his own blood. His clothing was drenched in it. His head had been covered with some kind of cloth, which was sopping too. His wounds looked terrible-one great gash across the neck especially. He had been cut down with a sacrificial knife. It was still lying alongside him.”

“He was definitely dead?” asked Decimus.

“No doubt.”

“Did you know him?” I murmured.

“No. But a corn chaplet with the white ribbons was lying by him, dragged off in the struggle presumably-he was one of the Arval Brothers.”

“Well, that creates another vacancy!” I sucked in air through my teeth. “I take it you then reported your find?”

A narrow look crossed the young man’s face.

“Oh, Aulus!” groaned the senator.

“Papa, I was badly shaken. There was nothing I could do for him. It was a ghastly scene. There was no sign of the killer, or I would genuinely have made an effort to apprehend him. One worry I had was that if anyone turned up and found me alone with the body I might be suspected of killing him myself.”

At once I asked, “Could the corpse have been the man who told you that you were unacceptable to the Arvals?”

Aelianus met my gaze, wide-eyed. He considered this. “No. No, Falco. Wrong build, I’m sure of it.”

“Good! So what did you do?”

“Got out of there fast. Ran for my horse. Rode back here as quickly as I could.”

“And came to ask our advice,” I suggested, guessing he had hoped to forget the whole incident.

He pulled a face. “All right. I’m a fool.”

“Not entirely. You have reported your grim find to your father, a senator, and to me… That’s acceptable” Acceptable-but not enough. I tightened my belt and pushed my tunic down under it. “We have two choices. We can pretend we know nothing about it-or behave like reputable citizens.”

Aelianus knew what I meant. He stood up. He wavered a little, but was probably fit for the job: “I have to go back there.”

I grinned at him. “Don’t imagine you get all the fun. You will have to take me too. Catch me sitting here with a flagon when I can jump on a horse and give myself indigestion pounding five miles into the countryside-all to learn that somebody else has by now found your piece of butchery and nobody thanks us for reporting it a second time.” I turned to his father. “I can handle this. But you will have the awkward job: explaining to Helena and your wife why we have bunked off-”

“I think I can distract them,” Decimus said, springing up with a start. He bent down and led out my baby daughter from behind his couch, holding her by her chubby little arms as she proudly demonstrated how she could now be walked along.

What a sight. I had known she could stand. It was a new trick. I had completely forgotten that it put her within reach of new attractions and dangers. I winced. Julia had somehow laid hands on the senator’s inkstand-a two- tone job, apparently; her face, arms, legs, and her smart little white tunic were now covered with great stains in black and red. There was ink around her mouth. She even had ink in her hair.

She grabbed at her noble grandfather so he had to pick her up, immediately covering himself in red and black as well. Then, sensing trouble, her eyes filled with tears, she began to wail, at first just mournfully but with a steadily increasing volume that would soon bring all the women of the household rushing to see what tragedy had befallen her.

Aelianus and I got out of it and left the senator to cope.

IX

IT WAS STILL light. Helena and I had dined early with her parents so we could return home with the baby before the streets became too dangerous. By the time her brother and I rode off, however, dusk was starting to fall. Time was not on our side.

The Via Portuensis travels out towards the new harbor at Ostia on the north bank of the Tiber. We had to cut into the city first, in order to cross the river on the Probus Bridge. Anacrites and I had started our Census inspections out this way and had usually been ferried over from beside the Emporium, but with horses that was impossible. I hate riding, though I noticed Aelianus had a good seat and seemed at ease. We could have borrowed the senator’s carriage, but in view of the hour we required speed. I had declined an escort too. It would only

Вы читаете One Virgin Too Many
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату
×