Vicana nodded bravely.
'Go on,' said Fabiola. 'Try to get some sleep. I'll finish preparing Docilosa myself.'
The red-headed girl did not protest.
When she was alone, Fabiola sat thinking for some time. What had made Memor so angry? Was it really the death of the Ethiopian bull? She could come up with no reasonable explanation. She would have to ask Brutus later. Now, though, she had to make sure that Docilosa looked her best for her journey to the other side.
It was one of the saddest things Fabiola had ever had to do; it brought up old, painful memories. She did not shy away from the task, however. The tears that welled up in her eyes had been too long held back.
Tenderly Fabiola anointed her servant's body with oil, weeping as she imagined doing the same for her mother. Like so much in a slave's life, that had been denied to her. Velvinna's corpse would have been discarded like so much waste, tossed down a disused mine shaft or left out for the vultures. The thought made Fabiola want to hunt down Gemellus in whatever dark hole he currently resided and kill him — slowly. She made a resolution to have the doormen search him out whenever the opportunity arose. Finding him would be difficult, of course. The bankrupt merchant had been forced to sell his house in the Aventine, which meant that he could be anywhere. I must stay focused, thought Fabiola. Caesar is my main quarry now.
Docilosa's body was still warm. Once the stab wounds had been covered by her best dress, she could have been just sleeping. It was a fanciful pretence, but Fabiola wallowed in it for as long as she could. The proper rituals could not be delayed, however, and eventually she closed Docilosa's eyes and placed a sestertius in her mouth. Without this coin, Docilosa would have nothing to pay Charon, the ferryman.
Her funeral would take place the following night. No eight days of lying in state for Docilosa, the lowly ex- slave, thought Fabiola. There was no point. Who would come to pay their respects, apart from her and Sabina? Yet she was determined that her servant's passage to the other side would be conducted in the proper manner. Professional mourners and musicians would be hired, and a decent tomb purchased. It was the least Fabiola could do for the humble woman who had become her only family. The anger she'd felt towards Docilosa earlier was gone now. In its place was a throbbing grief which physically hurt every fibre of her being.
There was a knock on the door. 'Fabiola?'
She could see by the low level of oil in the nearest lamp that hours must have passed. Business should be done for the night. Would she get no peace? 'Come.'
Vettius shuffled in, looking nervous.
Fabiola tensed. 'What is it?'
'Antonius is here.'
She felt incredibly weary. 'What time is it?'
'The water clock makes it sometime during the Gallicinium watch.'
'Gods, the man is insatiable,' muttered Fabiola. Sex was the very last thing on her mind right now.
'Jovina offered him his choice of girl, but he refused. Says he has to see you. To spend the night.'
Claws of terror ripped at Fabiola again. Jovina was still at the reception! She would interpret Antonius' behaviour in only one way.
Vettius saw her mood. 'Will I send him away? He's definitely the worse for wear.'
She was touched by his loyalty. 'Antonius is the Master of the Horse, Vettius. Drunk or not, he can come in here if he wants to.'
'Of course, Mistress,' he muttered. 'Which room should I take him to?'
'My office,' Fabiola replied, pulling herself together. At least there was no bed there. She could make a pretence of talking to him about business. Jovina might buy it before she ordered her to retire. 'Bring some wine, and then stay outside the door in case I need you.'
He did not enquire further.
A fresh pang of grief struck Fabiola. Laying his hands on Antonius would earn the huge slave a flogging, or even worse, yet both he and Benignus would do it if she asked. Fabiola almost wished that the doormen would argue with her sometimes. Their unquestioning devotion provided her with no feedback on her choices of action, whereas Docilosa had never been shy of making her opinions known. Even if Fabiola chose to disregard her servant's advice, as she had done up till now with Antonius, she had done so with an understanding of the other side of the argument.
Now, though, she was on her own again.
The walk up the corridor felt like several miles. Fabiola paused by the door where Vicana had been entertaining Memor. Benignus was inside, scrubbing the floor clean of blood and tissue. Beside him, the lanista's body was nothing more than a lumpen shape under a blanket. Sensing her presence, Benignus looked up. 'Can we get rid of him yet?'
Fabiola hesitated. She wanted no one to see Memor's corpse being carried out, but who knew how long Antonius would stay? He was stubborn, and persistent. It might be all night, as he'd demanded. If dawn arrived and he was still here, they'd have to keep the body hidden until the next evening. That made up her mind. 'Antonius has called in. Wait around to see what happens. If more than half an hour goes by and you've heard nothing, he'll be with me for a while. It should be safe enough then.'
Benignus nodded.
Flicking her hands through her hair, Fabiola made for the reception. After all that had gone on, she didn't look her best. Right now, however, she didn't care. The sooner she could get rid of Antonius, the better. Then she could get to bed. Even alone, Fabiola doubted that she would get any sleep, but lying down would still be preferable to the charade she was about to perform.
Pausing to ensure that her cleavage wasn't too prominent, she entered.
Antonius was leaning against one of the walls, tracing his fingers over the depiction of a woman sitting astride a man. Jovina sat at her desk, arms folded in clear disapproval. Her gaze met Fabiola's, and immediately slipped away.
Fabiola's heart banged off her ribs. Jovina's body might be frail and weak, but her mind was as sharp as ever. The bitch already suspected something was up. What would she think of Antonius' presence at this time of night, except that she and he were lovers? Worse still, who would the old madam tell? Keeping her face neutral, Fabiola raised an enquiring eyebrow.
'He won't even speak to anyone else,' Jovina muttered. 'Insisted I send all the girls away.'
Antonius suddenly noticed her. 'Fabiola!' he cried, moving away from the support of the wall. His wavering stance showed that his drinking session had continued since he'd left that morning. 'Just been looking at a good position,' he leered. 'Fancy trying it?'
Jovina could scarcely conceal her interest now.
Fabiola bowed, trying to keep things formal. 'Marcus Antonius. It's an honour to have you visit the Lupanar.'
'I should damn well think so,' Antonius slurred. Turning around to pick out his favoured sex act, he nearly fell over. 'Where is it?' He cursed, and then pointed in triumph. 'That's the one I want.'
Fabiola was struggling not to panic. 'I'm sure one of the girls would love to satisfy you in whatever way you please,' she purred, taking his arm.
Antonius looked annoyed. 'What?' He leaned in closer, covering her in a haze of wine fumes. 'I want you on top of me, not one of your whores,' he muttered.
Fabiola shot a look at Jovina, whose face was registering both shock and glee. The emotions vanished at once, but Fabiola had seen them. Her heart sank. Jovina knew, and she couldn't be trusted to keep the information to herself. Giving in to fate, Fabiola led Antonius to her office. 'Tell the doormen to get inside, then lock up and go to bed,' she ordered Jovina. 'I'll see Antonius out later.'
'He's got no guards with him,' Jovina muttered, suspicion twisting her face.
'Do as I say,' Fabiola shot back, not listening.
The old madam obediently scuttled out from behind her desk. It was then that Vettius arrived bearing a bronze tray with a jug of wine and two glasses. Fabiola cursed silently. As if Jovina needed any more proof that she was involved with the Master of the Horse. This time, the madam had enough presence of mind not to react, but Fabiola's mind had just been made up.
Jovina had to die. Tonight.
She baulked for an instant at the ruthlessness of it, but then her fear took over. What choice had she? Brutus
