Catullus stared blearily at the crowd. The haze was so thick I could hardly make out faces, let alone recognize anyone. 'You wanted to talk ' I said.
'I've lost my tongue for it. I want more wine.'
'Then I'll talk. Was it you who followed me up the Ramp two nights
ago?'
'Yes.'
'Who sent you?' 'No one.'
'Then why follow me?'
'I was following you before that. Perhaps you're not as sharp as you think. I was outside her house when you came calling that afternoon with Trygonion.
I'd just gotten back into town.'
'You'd just arrived and you went straight to Clodia's house?'
He put a finger to his lips. 'In this place, call her Lesbia.'
'Why?'
'It's my secret name for her. In the poems. In places like this.'
'Why 'Lesbia'?'
'Lesbos was the island of Sappho, who understood love better than any poet before or since. And Homer called the women of Lesbos 'the most beautiful women in the world.' '
'Wasn't Homer blind?'
He gave me a sour look. 'Agamemnon speaks the line.'
'Very well: Lesbia. When you went to Lesbia's house that day, didn't they tell you she'd gone out?'
'No. I didn't knock on the door. I was waiting. Watching. I wasn't ready to see her again, not face to face.'
'Waiting and watching from where? It's a dead-end street.'
'There are doorways deep enough to hide in. Then you came along with your bodyguard and the little gallus. I was close enough to overhear the word 'horti,' so when you headed off, I followed. What did the two of you get up to, alone inside her tent?'
'I don't think that's any of your business.'
'More to the point, what did the three of you do after Lesbius showed up, naked and dripping from the river?' 'Lesbius?'
'You know whom I mean.'
'You saw him come into the tent?'
'I hid among the trees and bushes on the riverbank.' He grinned bleakly. 'You must think I'm an utter fool.' 'Did you follow me when I left?'
'All the way to your house, then over to that other house in the
Subura, then back. You never knew until the Ramp, did you? You set a trap for me at the top, you and your bodyguard, so I made like a rabbit. If you're like most of the low-lifes she takes for lovers, I figured you might be pretty dangerous.'
'I told you, I'm not her lover. Just her 'hireling,' as Clodius calls
me.'
'Lesbius!' he insisted. The cheap wine was beginning to take effect. 'Anyway, you could be her lover and her hireling both. She's far above the likes of you, but she's been known to bend over for love.'
'The Venus Throw!' shouted the referee, setting off an uproar next to us. Someone slammed his fist on the table, making the dice jump, and shouted an accusation of cheating. The others closed ranks to calm him down.
'The Venus Throw,' said Catullus. 'When all four dice come up different. Not the highest total, just the luckiest. Why do you suppose
that is?'
'Because Venus craves variety?'
'Like Lesbia. Except when she craves her own flesh:
Lesbius is Pulcher-Pulcher meaning beautiful — and he must be, because Lesbia loves him far better than Catullus and all his clan, whom Lesbius would sell down the river
to pay three upright men willing to let him blow them… a kiss!'
I smiled and nodded. 'Clodius said you made better poems than Milo's men. And nastier.'
'Lesbius,' insisted Catullus, 'demeans me with such praise.' 'You seem to be talkative after all.'
'But as thirsty as ever. Where is that serving slave?' He banged his cup against the bench, but the noise was lost in the hubbub. 'I suppose you'll see her again, eventually,' I said. He stared bleakly into the amber haze. 'I already have.' 'I mean face to face. To speak to her.' 'I spoke to her today. I spent the afternoon with her.'
'What?'
'This morning I finally knocked on her door. The old slave told me she'd gone out early, taking her daughter to visit some cousin. So I wandered around and ended up at the Senian baths. It was only coincidence that I happened to see you there, and that ridiculous chase after Caelius's friend. What was it all about?'
'I'll tell you later. Go on, about… Lesbia.'
'I finally left the baths and headed back to her house. On the way I recognized her litter outside the house of one of the Metelli. She was just leaving, with her daughter. The two of them were stepping out the door. Before I could turn, she saw me. It was hard to read her face. It always has been. A face unlike any other, except one. Do you suppose that Lesbia and Lesbius can read each other at a glance? Like looking in a mirror? The rest of us study their faces for hours and still can't be sure what's behind them. Something about her eyes-like a poem in a foreign tongue. But more perfect than any poem. More painful.
'She invited me into her litter. 'To go where?' I said. 'Home. I'm expecting a man to bring me some news,' she said. I suppose she meant you? 'I don't want to go there if there'll be someone else,' I told her. She paused for a long time, looking at me. Finally she said, 'Metella can stay here with her cousins a while longer. You and I will go to the horti.'
'That was a mistake, of course. On a warm day like this, with all the naked toads jumping about in the water and leering at her while Lesbia leered back at them. Did she flirt with them merely to hurt me? Or do I flatter myself? At least Chrysis wasn't there to fetch the comeliest toad into her tent, which is their usual game. She invited me to her upcoming party. She was very polite. 'You must have some new poems you can read for us, something inspired by your travels.' As if I was an acquaintance she could call on to entertain her admirers. But do you know what?' He smiled grimly. 'It so happens that I do have a new poem, and I will be reading it at her party. Something to fit the theme of the Great Mother festival. I suppose you'll be there.'
'Me? I haven't been invited. Strange, isn't it, considering that I'm her new lover and all.'
'Don't needle me, Finder. I've been pricked enough for one day. At sundown she decided it was time to leave the horti, just when I'd made up my mind to say what I needed to say to her. She had to pick up Metella, she said, and she was expecting her brother tonight. 'You're welcome to come along,' she said-as if I could stomach being with both of them at once. I told her I'd walk back into town by myself.'
'But you ended up outside her door again.'
'Like a moth to a flame, except that this flame freezes instead of burns.'
The serving slave suddenly appeared and at Catullus's insistence poured fresh wine into our cups. I sampled it and was tempted to spit it out, but Catullus drank without complaint.
'So, what exactly happened at the baths today?' he said. 'At the horti, when I told Lesbia I'd been at the Senian baths, she was suddenly all ears, pressing me for everything I'd seen of that ridiculous chase. She knew what it was about, didn't she? But she was as tight-lipped as you.'
No wonder Clodia hadn't bothered to wake me when she came in, I thought. From Catullus and then from Barnabas she had probably heard more than enough details about the botched capture of Licinius and the pyxis. Or had she been too eager to be with her brother to bother with the hireling's report?
'You know about charges pending against Marcus Caelius?' I said.
'It's all I've heard about since I got back to Rome. They say he's up to his neck in it this time.'
'Your Lesbia and Lesbius have a hand in the prosecution. Not officially, but they're eager to gather evidence against him on a particular charge of attempted murder.'
