they have the help of someone inside.'
'Then you think that Ptolemy had agents within the delegation?'
'From the beginning! Oh yes, I have no doubt of that, ashamed as I am to say it. How else could his men have known which houses to attack in Neapolis? Or known when Onclepion's party was setting out for the market in Puteoli, so as to set the little boys upon them? How else did someone poison the oxen's water trough that morning in Capua, without anyone taking notice? King Ptolemy has ruled Egypt these twenty years by bribery, treachery and terror. His agents know how to use the weak and silence the strong.
'On the morning after the destruction of Palla's house, beside a stream in the woods, and with Palla's slaves keeping watch for an attack I still dreaded might come, I called a meeting of the delegation. I expected some desertions, but I was shocked at how few decided to continue on to Rome. Only fifteen! Even Onclepion joined the ranks of those who made up their minds to turn back that morning. I told them that they would find themselves trapped for the winter in Puteoli or Neapolis, unable to find ships to carry them home, for the sailing season was over. But they would not be dissuaded. Once King Ptolemy saw that they had turned back from Rome, and no longer intended to address the Senate, he would stop his attacks against them-so they reasoned, and no argument from me could change their minds. Onclepion even engaged me in mock debate over the matter. I was appalled at the tawdry way he excused his own cowardice with sophistry. Even more appalling was the fact that after our debate was over, five of the men who had originally stood by me that morning claimed to have been won over by Onclepion's eloquence and joined the deserters!
'Only ten then remained of the one hundred who came from Alexandria to confront the Senate, armed with righteous indignation and the certain favor of the gods for a just cause. Attended only by our slaves we made our bedraggled way to Rome. There was no grand entrance for us! Instead we slunk through the gates like thieves, hoping to escape notice. We dispersed ourselves about the city, staying with friends and acquaintances; many turned us away, when they learned of the tribulations we had brought upon our hosts in Neapolis and Puteoli, and the destruction of Palla's property! Meanwhile, we petitioned the Senate for an audience-but the Senate answered us with silence.'
He turned toward the brazier and stared into the flames. 'What a winter! No winter in Alexandria was ever so cold. How do you Romans stand it? I cover myself with blankets at night and still I can't stop shivering. What misery! And the murders… '
He began to shake and couldn't seem to stop.
'Shall I call a slave to bring you a blanket?' I said.
'No, no, it's not the cold.' He hugged himself, and at last managed to take a deep breath and stopped shaking. 'During those terrible days in Neapolis and Puteoli and on the road, I kept one thought in my mind:
When we reach Rome,
I told myself,
when we reach Rome…
'But you see, there was a fallacy in my reasoning, for I never really finished that thought. When we reach Rome-then what? Did I tell myself, When we reach Rome, there shall be only ten of us left? Did I ever think that the Senate would snub us, and refuse even to hear me? Or that there would be still more treachery and betrayals, until I would lose my faith even in the men I most trusted when we left Alexandria? Or that we would be murdered one by one, until only a handful remained-by the very fact of their survival, traitors and tools of King Ptolemy? Do you understand what has happened to me, Gordianus?' He held out his hands in a gesture of supplication, and on his face I saw the full measure of his despair. 'I left Alexandria full of worry but also full of hope. Now…'
'Murders, you said. Here in Rome?'
'Yes. At least three since we arrived. We all stayed in different houses, under the roofs of men I thought we could trust. I feared another full-scale attack, you see, until I realized that Rome is Rome, not Neapolis or Puteoli. Even King Ptolemy would never dare to stage a massive assault or manufacture a riot in the shadow of the Senate. The men who rule Rome tolerate such flagrant crimes at a distance, but not in their presence. No foreign king could be allowed to stir up the masses or set fires or practice open warfare in Rome itself.'
'You're right. Senators reserve those privileges for themselves.'
'So the king changed his tactics. Instead of trying to kill us all at once, he turned to assassinating us one by one.'
'By what means?'
'Quietly. By poison. Suffocation. Stabbing.' 'With the complicity of their hosts?'
Dio paused. 'Perhaps. Perhaps not. Slaves can sometimes be bribed or blackmailed. But masters can be bribed or blackmailed as well, especially when the pressure comes from the kind of men allied with King Ptolemy.'
'Men such as Pompey?'
He nodded. 'And I suspect there are respectable Romans-perhaps even senators-who are not above committing a murder or two to gain Pompey's favor or repay some debt they owe him.'
'Be careful, Dio. So far you've accused your own king of being behind this slaughter. Now you're implicating a man who happens to be Rome's most beloved general and very possibly her future dictator.'
'I tell you, these are the men behind the killings. King Ptolemy is not even in Rome any longer. He's retired to Ephesus for the winter, leaving everything in Pompey's hands. And why not? Pompey has as much to gain as Ptolemy if the king can keep his throne, so Pompey has continued the attacks against the delegation. Since we arrived in Rome, his agents have snuffed us out one by one.'
I shook my head. 'You admit that you have no proof of your alle-gations against King Ptolemy, Dio. Do you have proof of what you say against Pompey?'
He glared at me and was quiet for a long time. 'A few nights ago, in the house of Lucius Lucceius, someone tried to poison me. Do you want proof of that? My slave died horribly, writhing and gasping on the floor, only moments after tasting a portion of soup that was served to me in my private room!'
'Yes, but-'
'And my host, Lucius Lucceius, despite his knowledge of philosophy, despite the disdain he espouses for King Ptolemy, is Pompey's friend.'
'Do you know where the poison came from?'
'Earlier that day, a certain Publius Asicius paid a call on Lucceius. A handsome young man — I happened to see him as he was leaving the house, and I asked Lucceius his name. That night, my slave was poisoned. The next morning, after I fled from Lucceius's house, I made some inquiries about his visitor. They say this Publius Asicius is a young man of easy morals who indulges in poetry and wine and dabbles in politics with no fixed agenda, willing to do anything to curry the favor of anyone who can advance his career.'
I sighed. 'You have just described a whole generation of young Romans, Teacher. Many of them may be capable of murder, including, quite possibly, this Publius Asicius. But mere proximity to the scene of a crime is not-'
'Asicius is also said to be in debt to Pompey, for some very large loans which the general made to him.'
'Still…'
'You see, you have no rejoinder for that, Gordianus. The chain goes back to Pompey and thence to King Ptolemy.'
'Your host, Lucceius-did you confront him with your suspicions?'
'Even as my taster lay writhing on the floor! I insisted that Lucceius come and witness the atrocity himself. I demanded that he find out how the soup had been poisoned.'
'What was his response?'
'He pretended to be appalled, of course. He said that he would interrogate each of his household slaves himself, and torture them if necessary. Perhaps he did, or perhaps not. I left the next morning, desperate to be away from the place. I told Lucceius that I would be staying at the house of Titus Coponius, but he has made no effort to contact me.'
Trygonion, who had been silent for a while, cleared his throat. 'Having escaped alive from the man's house, perhaps you would have been wiser not to tell Lucceius where you were headed next.' The gallus made a wry face and seemed to be in a mood to cause trouble again, but what he said made sense.
'Am I then to behave like a fugitive or a criminal?' demanded Dio. 'Skulking from shadow to shadow, hoping no one sees me, praying that the world will simply forget my existence? Already I put on this absurd disguise to go
