fickleness of the Fates and the way that Fortune can turn her back even on a young man starting out in life. It made me think of all the days I've wasted, all the hours of boredom-'
Before he could conceive of yet another stillborn poem, I nodded to Bethesda to refill his cup and my own. 'A sad tale, Lucius Claudius, but not uncommon. Life in the city is full of tragedies. Strangers die around us every day. We persevere.'
'But that's just the point-young Asuvius isn't dead! I saw him just this morning, strolling down the Subura Way, smiling and happy! Oh, he still appeared a bit haggard, but he was certainly up and walking.'
'Perhaps you were mistaken.'
'Impossible. He was with the older man, Oppianicus. I called to them across the street. Oppianicus saw me- or at least I thought he did-but he took the younger man's arm and they disappeared into a shop on the corner. I followed after them, but a cart was passing in the street and the stupid driver almost ran me down. When I finally stepped into the shop they were gone. They must have passed through the shop into the cross street beyond and disappeared.'
He sat back and sipped his wine. 'I sat down in a shady spot by the public fountain and tried to think it through; then I remembered your name. I think it was Cicero who mentioned you to me, that young advocate who did a bit of legal work for me last year. I can't imagine who else might help me. What do you say, Gordianus? Am I mad? Or is it true that the shades of the dead walk abroad in the noonday sun?'
'The answer to both questions may be yes, Lucius Claudius, but that doesn't explain what's occurred. From what you've told me, I should think that something quite devious and all too human is afoot. But tell me, what is your concern? You don't know either of these men. What is your interest in this mystery?'
'Don't you understand, Gordianus, after all I've told you? I spend my days in idle boredom, peering into the windows of other people's lives. Now something has happened that actually titillates me. I would investigate the circumstances by myself, only'-the great bulk of his body shrank a bit-'I'm not exactly brave…'
I glanced at the glittering jewelry about his fingers and throat. 'I should tell you, then, that I'm not exactly cheap.'
'And I am not exactly poor.'
Lucius insisted on accompanying me, though I warned him that if he feared boredom, my initial inquiries were likely to prove more excruciating than he could bear. Searching through the Subura for a pair of strangers from out of town was hardly my idea of excitement, but Lucius wanted to follow my every step. I could only shrug and allow it; if he wanted to trail after me like a dog, he was certainly paying well enough for the privilege.
I began at the house where the young man had supposedly died and where Lucius had witnessed the signing of his will. The landlord had nothing more to say than what he had already said to Lucius-until I nudged my client and indicated that he should rattle his coin purse. The musical jingling induced the landlord to sing.
The older man, Oppianicus, had been renting the room for more than a month. He and a circle of younger friends from Larinum were much given to debauchery-the landlord could deduce that much from the sour smell of spilled wine that wafted from their room, from the raucous gambling parties they held, and from the steady parade of prostitutes who visited them from the brothel down the street.
'And the younger man, Asuvius, the one who died?' I asked.
'Yes, what of him?'
'He was equally debauched?'
The landlord shrugged. 'You know how it is-these young men from small towns, especially the lads who have a bit of money, they come to Rome and they want to live a little.'
'Sad, that this one should die, instead.'
'That has nothing to do with me,' the landlord protested. 'I keep a safe house. It wasn't as if the boy was murdered in one of my rooms. He took sick and died.'
'Did he look particularly frail?'
'Not at all, but debauchery can ruin any man's health.'
'Not in a month's time.'
'When illness strikes, it strikes; neither man nor god can lengthen a man's time once the Fates have measured out the thread of his life.'
'Wise words,' I agreed. I pulled a few coins from Lucius's purse and slapped them into the man's waiting palm.
The brothel down the street was one of the Subura's more respectable, which is to say more expensive, houses of entertainment. Several well-dressed slaves lingered outside the door, waiting for their masters to come out. Inside, the floor of the little foyer was decorated with a black and white mosaic of Priapus pursuing a wood nymph. Rich tapestries of red and green covered the walls.
The clientele was not shoddy, either. While we waited for the master of the house, a customer passed us on his way to the door. He was at least a minor magistrate, to judge from his gold seal ring, and he seemed to know Lucius, at whom he cast a puzzled gaze.
'You-Lucius Claudius-here in Priapus's Palace.?'
'Yes, and what of it, Gaius Fabius?'
'But I'd never have dreamed you had a lustful bone in your body!'
Lucius sniffed at the ceiling. 'I happen to be here on important business, if you don't mind.'
'Oh, I see. But of course. Don't let me interrupt you!' The man suppressed a laugh until he was out the door. I heard him braying in the street.
'Harrumph! Let him laugh and gossip about me behind my back,' said Lucius. 'I shall compose a satirical poem for my revenge, so witheringly spiteful that it shall render that buffoon too limp to visit this-what did he call this place?'
'Priapus's Palace,' piped an unctuously friendly voice. The master of the house suddenly appeared between us and slid his arms around our shoulders. 'And what pleasures may I offer to amuse two such fine specimens of Roman manhood?' The man smiled blandly at me, then at Lucius, then at the baubles that decorated Lucius's neck and fingers. He licked his lips and slithered to the center of the room, turned and clapped his hands. A file of scantily clad women began to enter the room.
'Actually,' I said hurriedly, 'we've come on behalf of a friend.'
'Oh?'
'A regular client of your establishment in recent days, I believe. A young visitor to Rome, named Asuvius.'
From the corner of my eye I saw a sudden movement among the girls. One of them, a honey blonde, tripped and thrust out her hands for balance. She turned a pair of startled blue eyes in my direction.
'Oh yes, that handsome lad from Larinum,' gushed our host. 'We haven't seen him for at least a day and a half-I was beginning to wonder what had become of him!'
'We're here on his behalf,' I said, thinking it might not be a lie, when all was said and done. 'He sent us to fetch his favorite girl-but I can't seem to remember her name. Can you remember it, Lucius?'
Lucius gave a start and blinked his eyes, which were trained on the girls and threatened to pop from their sockets. 'Me? Oh no, I can't remember a thing.'
A look of pure avarice crossed our host's face. 'His favorite? Ah, let me think… yes, that would be Merula, most definitely Merula!' Another clap of his hands fetched a slave who put an ear to his master's whispering lips, then ran from the room. A moment later Merula appeared, a stunning Ethiopian so tall that she had to bow her head to pass through the doorway. Her skin was the color of midnight and her eyes flashed like shooting stars.
Lucius was visibly impressed and reached for his purse, but I stayed his hand. It occurred to me that our host was offering us his most expensive property, not the one which had necessarily been the favorite of young Asuvius.
'No, no,' I said, 'I'm sure I would have remembered a name like Merula.'
'Ah, and she sings like a blackbird, as well,' interjected out host.
'Nevertheless, I think we were meant to fetch that one.' I nodded at the honey blonde, who gazed back at me with apprehensive blue eyes.
The tavern across the street was pleasantly cool and dark, and almost deserted. Columba sat within the
