The Bull Slayer

paterfamilias. I have a right to sit at his desk, look at his papers.” He spoke with a fierce insistence as though he expected contradiction.

“And so you do.” Pliny took the rolled sheet of parchment from his hands.

“It’s in Greek, I can’t read it,” Aulus said.

“Your education has been neglected.”

The boy gave a helpless shrug. “The tutors always run away when they see how-how I am. But I can make out the letters. There’s the word leon in it. That means lion, doesn’t it? And so I thought-”

Pliny held up a hand to silence him and quickly scanned the page. Then he read it again more slowly, translating it aloud to Aulus.

“From the Heliodromus-that’s an odd word. What would that be in Latin? Cursor Solis-Sun Runner? Something like that. From the Sun Runner to the Lion, Greetings.You say the Persian has refused to repay you the money he owes you. That is a serious charge, I understand your anger. You demand that we expel him from our worship. This is a drastic step, not to be taken lightly. I have questioned him and he denies your charge, though I made him swear by Lord Mithras, who sees into every heart. I beg you to reconcile with him. You are both too important to our enterprise. I have not brought this matter to the Father and hope that will not be necessary. Farewell.”

Pliny set the letter down. “I thank you for bringing me this. You can’t imagine how important it is. It is dated only a few days before your father disappeared.”

“Why? What does it mean?”

“I don’t know what it all means, but I begin to glimpse the outlines of what must have happened. This Persian murdered a man called Glaucon, who, we think, murdered your father together with the Persian. You had just lost consciousness, you never saw them, but they were there on the path, waiting to ambush him. The motive, I see now, was a quarrel about money. The Father is, or rather was, the leader of the Mithras cult. He could have named the Persian and the Sun-Runner and all the others had he not died, quite conveniently, last night. All these men, including your father I’m sorry to say, were involved in an illicit cult, as you know. A cult riven by discord, leading to murder. What united them in the first place-this ‘enterprise’ to which your father and the Persian are so important-I don’t yet know, although I have my suspicions. I’m afraid that when we find out it will not reflect well on your father. Are you prepared for that?”

Aulus attempted a smile. “I have no reputation to lose. It will be hard on mother, I suppose.”

“How is she? How are things at home?” Pliny put a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Hard. She cries a lot. Drinks a lot. She claims now that she never really believed I could have done such a terrible thing, but she was afraid I would be accused anyway if it was known that I was with him and there was no other suspect. Now she’s tormented with money worries. My father made a second will not long ago. Someone from the treasury brought over a load of papers from his office after he died. She finally got around to looking through them and found it. I thought she’d go mad, raving and screaming. It leaves most of his estate to some woman.”

Pliny was suddenly alert. “The woman’s name?”

“I don’t know, but they fought about him seeing her. It started a couple of months ago when a strange man came to the house when father was out. Why do you look at me so strangely? Have I said something wrong? I don’t mean to spy but I couldn’t help-”

“Can you describe this man. It’s important.”

“I hid when he came in but I got a glimpse of him. About your age, I think. Thinning hair. He had a sharp nose and not much chin, he was red in the face-it made him look a little like a ferret. Do you know him?”

“I do,” Pliny frowned. “Aulus, do you know the game Latrunculi? I fear I’ve just been sent back to square one.”

Chapter Thirty

Aulus looked at him with puzzlement.

“What did this man and your mother talk about?” Pliny asked.

“I couldn’t understand them, they spoke in Greek. Mother always says she doesn’t know but six words of Greek but she seemed to understand him well enough. And after he left she was furious, and when my father came home that night she attacked him, screaming and crying. He hit her across the head with his vitis. He did that when he was angry. After that they seldom spoke. The tension made me very nervous. What would I do without my parents, who would care for me? My fits started getting worse. That’s when my father decided to take me to the cave.” Aulus’ hands writhed and twisted in his lap.

Pliny’s brain was in a whirl. Argyrus and Fabia! Is it them after all? Did they plan the murder together, each for their own reason fearing Balbus’ marriage to Sophronia? Was it Fabia’s burly slave who was waiting for Balbus in the woods? Do Glaucon and the Persian actually have nothing to do with it? But surely she wouldn’t have arranged her husband’s murder for the very day that Aulus would be there to witness it? But what about Argyrus? Could he have been out there with Glaucon? Do those two know each other? Is Argyrus in the cult?

“This man-did you ever see him at the house again?

The boy nodded. “The day of my father’s funeral, after everyone else had left. I wasn’t allowed to attend the funeral; mother was afraid I’d have a fit in front of everyone. I came out of hiding after everyone had gone, but then he came. Mother sent me to my room. A little while later, he left.”

Pliny gazed at the boy-too hard and too long. Aulus looked away, wrapping his thin arms around his body, hooking one foot behind the other, the knees twisting. “Have I-have I told something I shouldn’t?”

The boy looked ill, Pliny was afraid he might have a fit then and there. “No, of course you haven’t.” He would not tell Aulus his suspicions, the boy was too fragile. “You won’t tell your mother you came to see me, will you? I’d rather you didn’t. Not just yet.”

“Keep a secret from her? I…” The words died in his throat.

For an instant, Pliny was tempted to take the boy home and confront Fabia on the spot. But what would that do to Aulus? This sad, damaged, brave boy, struggling toward manhood, fighting for his place in a world that literally spat at him. No, he wouldn’t risk it. There would have to be another way.

“How will you get home, Aulus? I can send you back in a carriage if you like.”

“No.” He lifted his eyes and met Pliny’s. “I can go by myself. I won’t tell mother where I’ve been.”

Pliny’s heart went out to the boy. “Aulus, have you thought what you might do when you’re older? I’d like to help if I can.”

“You’ll think I’m being stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, a physician? Like-”

“Like Marinus, of course. I understand completely. I’ll speak to him about you. He’s often said to me that he needs an assistant. Would you like that?”

Aulus’ eyes filled with eager hope.

And inside Pliny a small voice asked, How much of this is kindness and how much calculation, to win the boy away from his mother?

He didn’t like to contemplate the answer.

***

After Aulus had gone, Pliny conferred with Suetonius.

“You must have it out with Fabia, there’s no other way. And the sooner the better.”

“So I keep telling myself. But she’ll deny everything, as she already has, and I can’t compel her. And to use her son as a witness against her? I can’t tell you how reluctant I am to do that.”

“Then go after Argyrus. I remember we decided he didn’t look like he had it in him to kill Balbus, but maybe we were wrong. And this time don’t just threaten to torture him, do it. I know you’re squeamish but the man’s a weakling, it won’t take much. Maybe it is him and Glaucon.