could somehow manage to send you plummeting from this terrace onto the rocks below, if we were determined to do so; you would be swept out to sea and vanish forever.' She gazed at me intendy. 'I've come to trust you, Gordianus. I didn't trust you at first, I'll admit, but I do now. Won't you trust me?'
I looked into her eyes. She sat stiffly upright in a backless chair, dressed in a voluminous yellow stola. The sun had not yet risen above the roof of the house and the terrace was in shadow. Far below us, beyond the terrace wall, the sea pounded against the rocky coast. Olympias and Alexandros sat nearby, watching the two of us as if we were gladiators engaged in a duel.
I lifted the cup to my lips again, but set it down untouched. Iaia sighed. 'If you would only drink, the pain would vanish. You'll thank me for the gift.'
'Dionysius is beyond all pain, but I don't think he would be thankful if he could be here with us now.'
Her brow darkened. 'What do you insinuate, Gordianus?'
'You say you trust me, Iaia. Then at least admit to me what I already know. On the day when I came to see the Sibyl, I saw Dionysius following Olympias in secret. I think he knew about the sea cave and who was hidden there, or at least he guessed; that was why he insisted on telling the tale of Crassus hiding in the cave in Spain. I saw how you and Olympias reacted that night. Dionysius was very near to giving away your secret. The very next day, at the funeral feast, Dionysius was given poison in a cup. Tell me, Iaia, was it aconitum you used? That was my guess.'
She shrugged. 'What were the precise symptoms?' 'His tongue was aflame. He began to choke and convulse, then to vomit; his bowels were loosened. It all happened very fast.'
She nodded. 'I would say that you made an excellent guess. But I cannot say for sure. I did not poison the cup, and neither did Olympias.'
'Who did?'
'How can I say? I am not the Sibyl-'
'Only the vessel and the voice of the Sibyl.'
She pursed her lips and sucked at her teeth. Her face became gaunt, and she looked as old as her years. 'Sometimes, Gordianus. Sometimes. Do you really want to know the secrets behind the Sibyl? It is dangerous for any man to know them. Think of foolish Pentheus, torn apart by the Bacchae. Certain mysteries can be truly comprehended only by women; to a man, such knowledge is often quite useless, and it can be very dangerous.'
'Would it be any less dangerous if I didn't know? Unless some god decides to intervene, I begin to wonder if I shall ever get back to Rome alive.'
'Stubborn,' said Iaia, slowly shaking her head, 'very stubborn. I see that you will not be satisfied until you know everything.'
'It is my nature, Iaia. It is how the gods made me.'
'So I see. Where shall we begin?'
'With a simple question. Are you the Sibyl?'
She made a pained expression. 'I will try to answer, though I doubt you'll understand. No, I am not the Sibyl. No woman is. But there are those of us in whom the Sibyl sometimes manifests herself, just as the god manifests himself through the Sibyl. We are a circle of initiates. We maintain the temple, keep the hearth burning, explore the mysteries, pass on the secrets. Gelina is one of us. She is more dear to me than you can know, but she is too delicate a vessel to be used directly by the Sibyl; she has other duties. Olympias is also an initiate. She is as yet too young and inexperienced for the Sibyl to speak through her, but it will come to pass. There are others besides myself who act as vessels; some live here in Cumae, others come from as far as Puteoli and Neapolis and the far side of the Cup. Most are descendants of the Greek families who settled here even before Aeneas came; their understanding of these matters is passed on in the blood.'
'Iaia, I cannot deny that an interview with the Sibyl is a most wondrous thing, no matter whose form she takes. I wonder, for example, what it was that you burned on the fire before you took us into the Sibyl's cave. Could it be that the smoke had some effect on my senses?'
Iaia smiled faintly. 'You miss very little, Gordianus. True, certain herbs and roots, used in certain ways, are conducive to a full apprehension of the Sibyl's presence. The use of those substances is a part of the discipline which we learn and pass on.'
'In my own travels I've encountered such herbs, or heard of them. Ophiusa, thalassaegle, theangelis, gelotophyllis, mesa-'
She shook her head and grimaced. 'Ophiusa comes from distant Ethiopia, where they call it the snake plant; it is said to be as horrible to look at as the visions it conjures up. The Sibyl has no use for such horrors. Thalassaegle is likewise exotic and harsh; I hear it grows only along the river Indus. Alexander's men called it 'sea-glimmer' and found that it caused them to rave and suffer blinding visions. Theangelis I know of. It grows in the high places of Syria and Crete and in Persia; the Magi call it 'the gods' messenger' and drink it to divine the future. Gelotophyllis grows in Bacteria where the locals call it laughter-leaves; it merely intoxicates and brings no wisdom. Believe me, it was none of these that you inhaled.'
'What about the other I named, mesa? A kind of hemp, I understand, with a strong aroma-'
'You exasperate me, Gordianus. Will you waste time and breath merely to satisfy your idle curiosity?'
'You're right, Iaia. Then perhaps you can tell me why you placed that ugly statuette in my bed on my first night in the villa.'
She lowered her eyes. 'It was a test. Only an initiate could understand.'
'But whatever the test was, I passed it?'
'Yes.'
'And then you left another message, advising me to consult the Sibyl.' 'Yes.' 'But why?'
'The Sibyl was ready to guide you to Zeno's body.' 'Because the Sibyl thought I might assume that the same fate that befell Zeno had befallen Alexandros as well, and that his body had been consumed in the lake? That possibility did cross my mind; after all, two horses returned riderless to the stable. I might have returned and told Crassus as much, advising him to call off his search for Alexandros.' 'And why didn't you?'
'Because I had seen Dionysius following Olympias, and I had seen Olympias bringing an empty basket up from the sea cave. It occurred to me then that Alexandros was hidden here in Cumae. But tell me, Iaia, did you lead me to Zeno's body to throw me off the scent?'
Iaia spread her hands. 'One cannot always discern the Sibyl's methods; even when the god grants a supplicant's desires, he doesn't always use the means expected to accomplish his end. You might have assumed Alexandros was dead and proceeded from that assumption. Instead, here you sit, in the same house with Alexandros. Who can say this is not what the Sibyl intended, even if it is not what I expected?'
I nodded. 'You knew, then, of Zeno's fate, and where he could be found. Did Olympias know?'
'Yes.'
'And yet Olympias seemed genuinely shocked when we discovered Zeno's remains.'
'Olympias knew of Zeno's fate, but she had not seen his body, as I had. I never intended for her to see it; I intended for you to visit Lake Avernus without her. Instead she went with you, and in horror she cast his remains into the pit. I have no doubt that this, too, was the will of the god.'
'And I suppose it was the will of the god that brought Alexandros to your door in the first place, on the night of the murder?'
'Perhaps we should let Alexandros speak for himself,' said Iaia, who cast a sidelong look at the young Thracian. 'Tell Gordianus what transpired on the night of your master's murder.'
Alexandros reddened, either because he was unused to speaking to strangers or because of the memory of that night. Olympias drew closer to him and laid her hand on his forearm. I wondered at the casual way she displayed her intimacy with a slave in the presence of a Roman citizen. In the sea cave I had caught them unaware in the middle of coitus, and she had been unembarrassed, but fear and surprise had ruled her then and might have overridden her normal judgment. I was more impressed by the public affection and tenderness she willingly gave Alexandros before Iaia and myself. I marvelled at her devotion, and at the same time despaired for her; how could such an ill-begotten love end in anything but misery?
'That night,' Alexandros began, his harsh Thracian accent overshadowed by the intensity with which he spoke, 'we knew that Crassus was on his way. I had never seen him, I was new in the household, but I had heard much of him, of course. Old Zeno told me that the visit was unexpected and had come about on very short notice,
