suppose he thought I would be docile, like my mother, but after the things she had told me I knew what to expect and I decided I would die before I let him have his way with me. He tied my wrists with a rope, the way he had tied her so many times. He liked to hang her on a hook on the wall. I had seen her like that, seen what he did to her, and when he tried to do the same things to me a kind of madness came into me, the madness the gods put into men and women to give them strength beyond their bodies. I was more limber than he realized. I wriggled free. It turned into a battle. I bit him as hard as I could. He threw me against the wall, so hard I thought I'd been crushed like a beetle. I couldn't breathe. My heart stopped beating. He could have had his way with me then. He could have killed me. He was a powerful, respected man. No one would have thought the less of him for the death of a slave. No one questioned the death of my mother. No one would have questioned my death.'
'Oh, Mother!' Diana drew closer to her. Clodia bit her lip. Chrysis bowed her head. Bethesda's eyes glittered, but her cheeks remained dry. 'I lay on the floor, stunned. I couldn't move, not even a finger. I waited for the sky to fall. But do you know what he did? He turned as white as a cloud, mumbled a curse and left the room. I think the shade of my mother must have spoken in his ear, shaming him. Instead of having me killed, he simply got rid of me. He sent me to the slave market. I was not a very satisfactory slave, apparently.' She managed a brittle smile. 'Men would buy me and return me before the day was done. I was sent back to be resold so many times that the man at the slave market made a joke of it. I was still young. I suppose I was beautiful-almost as beautiful as you, Diana. But word spread among the buyers that I was poison, and no one would bid on me. Finally, of course, the right man came for me. I think it must have been a whim of the goddess the Romans call Venus that sent him to the slave market that day, with barely enough coins in his purse. I was the cheapest slave on the block, and still he could barely afford me!'
The other women laughed at that, even as they wiped their eyes.
'And your husband knows nothing of what happened to you before you met? Of what the man did to you, and your mother?' said Clodia.
'Nothing. I never told him, and I think I never will. I told my daughter, because I thought she should know what befell her grand-mother. And now I have told you.'
I was appalled, bewildered, dumbfounded-not only at what Bethesda had said, and the fact that she had kept such a secret from me, but at the unaccountable intimacy between the women in my garden. What strange alchemy had transpired to make them so unguarded with one another? Where were the normal barriers of slavery and status that should have separated them? The world seemed to tremble beneath my feet, just as my fingers trembled as I closed my spy-hole in the ivy and silently fled to my study.
Chapter Nineteen
At length, I sent a slave girl to inform Bethesda that I had returned and was in my study. Clodia appeared soon after, along with Chrysis. They were both smiling, as if they had just shared a good laugh. The visit with Bethesda and Diana had apparently ended on a happy note, which confused me all the more-how could they speak of such dreadful things and then part laughing?
'I dropped by to see if you had anything to report, and you weren't here,' said Clodia, feigning petulance. 'I trust you've been busy on my behalf, out scraping up something useful about Caelius-perhaps some fresh news about those slaves he bribed to poison Dio?'
'Nothing as useful as that, I'm afraid. Have you been here long?'
'A while.'
'I hope you weren't bored.'
'Not at all. Your wife made me feel very welcome.' 'Did she?'
'Yes.'
'Good.'
That was the gist of the interview, and Clodia and Chrysis soon departed.
Darkness fell. Dinner was served. I was uneasy, unable to look at Bethesda or at Diana in quite the usual way. I asked Bethesda what she had thought of our visitor.
'An interesting woman' was all she said.
'I take it she put your mind to rest, concerning my whereabouts last night.'
'Yes.' Bethesda did not elaborate.
'Well, good. All's back to normal, then?'
'I was never aware of any disruption to our routine,' said Bethesda.
I bit into a crust of bread. This saved me from biting my tongue.
It was a quiet meal. As the last course of savory onions with wine was served, Bethesda cleared her throat. 'Our visitor invited us to a party.'
'A party?'
'The day after tomorrow. Clodia says she has a party every year, to mark the beginning of the Great Mother festival.' 'And she invited you?'
Bethesda bristled at my skepticism. 'She invited both of us.'
'I don't think the sort of parties Clodia throws are likely to be — '
'I shall be hard pressed to find a suitable stola for the occasion.'
She peered thoughtfully into the middle distance, contemplating her wardrobe.
I sighed. For Bethesda, a personal invitation from a patrician like Clodia must have seemed almost too good to be true, an opportunity not to be missed, an acceptance into Palatine society. I was surprised myself, though I was beginning to learn not to be surprised by anything Clodia did.
Later that night, in bed, Bethesda pressed herself against me and asked me to hold her. As I took her in my arms, I longed to tell her that I knew her secret, that I understood her silence, that it made no difference. But the words did not come. Instead, I used my hands and lips and tongue to show her what I felt. Afterward, contented, she fell into a deep sleep. But I remained awake long into the night, staring into the darkness above, wondering how a man can ever think he knows the whole truth of anything.
The next morning I sent a messenger to Eco's house, to see if he had returned. The messenger came back with the news I expected: Eco was not yet back. He would come to me as soon as he arrived, I thought, no matter what the hour.
If he didn't arrive soon, anything he discovered would be of no use. The trial would begin the next morning.
I decided to spend the day in my study rather than to go down to the Forum again to search for evidence concerning Caelius and poison.
I had spoken in enough ears; word of what I was seeking would continue to spread without me. Perhaps a limb that was barren yesterday would bear fruit today. If so, it would be wise to stay where any messenger could be sure to find me. And of course, Eco might arrive at any mo-ment.
I began another letter to Meto, and ended by burning it, as I had the last. The thing on my mind was not something I could share with him in a letter. Bethesda and Diana spent the day sewing in the garden. They seemed to be in good spirits, talking to one another in low voices and laughing. I watched in silence, content merely to observe, like a guardian keeping watch on the living.
It was not an informer, but Trygonion who finally came knocking at my door that afternoon, so frantically that Belbo made no effort at all to restrain the little gallus from rushing into my study.
'Come!' he cried, trembling and gasping for breath. 'Come at once!'
'What now, Trygonion?' I sighed.
'He's done it! He's actually done it!
Despite all her precautions. Oh, Cybele, damn his eyes!' He clutched his face and stamped his feet. 'Trygonion! What's happened?'
'He's poisoned her. She's dying! Oh, please, come at once!'
It was no wonder that Trygonion was out of breath; he had run all the way from Clodia's house, and expected me to run all the way back with him. We arrived in the little dead-end street like gasping runners after a marathon. The door to Clodia's house was not even shut, but stood open as Trygonion had left it.
