'Marc Antony.' She raised an eyebrow. 'You know him?' 'No.'
'But the look on your face — '
'I know his name, yes. One of Caesar's men — oh yes, now I remember. Our paths crossed that very night. As I was leaving your house, he was on his way here. He happens to know one of my sons. We exchanged a few words.'
'Only a few?'
'Let me think. He asked me if the rumour was true. About Publius Clodius. I told him it was.'
Sempronia rustled her blanket. Would her daughter ever acquire such a hardened face?
'And how did Antony react?' said Fulvia.
'It was dark. I could hardly see his face. But his voice was rather wistful, as I recall. He said something like, 'Ah, it's all over, then. The end of Publius, for good or ill.' Then he went on his way.'
Fulvia gazed out the window at the distant Capitoline. It was Sempronia who answered. 'He ended up here. But Fulvia was in no condition to see him, or anyone. Antony spent some time talking with the other men in the anteroom and then left. So we know that Antony was here in Rome that night.'
'Yes,' said Fulvia, keeping her eyes on something far away. 'But where was he earlier that day?'
'Are you saying that you believe he had something to do with your husband's death?'
Fulvia didn't answer. Sempronia clutched at the red blanket. 'The fellow tried to murder Clodius with his bare hands only a year ago!'
Fulvia returned from wherever her thoughts had taken her. 'My mother exaggerates.' 'Do I?'
'What's this about?' I said.
'You never heard the story?' said Fulvia. 'I should have thought it would have made the rounds, such a juicy bit of gossip. Perhaps for once the people concerned managed to keep their mouths shut. There was no cause for scandal, just a dispute between two old friends, nothing more.'
'It would have been considerably more if Antony had succeeded!' said Sempronia.
'But he didn't,' insisted Fulvia. 'Perhaps you should explain,' I said.
Fulvia nodded. 'It happened out on the Field of Mars last year, on one of the election days that ended up being cancelled. All the candidates were present, haranguing their supporters. I'm told there was the usual milling about, some scuffling, men with moneybags offering last-minute bribes, a few minor skirmishes. You know what it's like. I mean, being a man, you must have been to elections and seen for yourself Perhaps you were there that day.'
'No. Actually, the last time I voted in a consular election was ten years ago, when Catilina ran.'
Sempronia was suddenly interested. 'You voted for Catilina?'
'No. Actually, I voted for a fellow with no head called Nemo.'
The two women regarded me curiously.
'It's a very long story. Never mind. No, I wasn't there on the day you're talking about. But I can picture the scene. What happened?'
'Antony and my husband had words,' said Fulvia. 'As I understand it, the exchange began in a friendly manner, but it didn't end that way. Publius was always a bit vague as to who said what to whom.'
'But we know how it turned out,' said Sempronia, with equal parts of disdain and amusement in her voice, 'with Antony drawing his sword and chasing Publius from one end of the Field of Mars to the other.'
'Where were your husband's bodyguards?' I asked.
'Those particular bodyguards?' said Fulvia. 'I don't know where they were that day, but I know where they are now — off working in me mines.' There was a glint in her eyes that made her look, for that instant, almost as hard as her mother. 'Anyway, Publius got away unscathed.'
'Except for his dignity!' said Sempronia. 'Ducking into a cabinet under a stairway in some rat-infested warehouse on the river — like a cowering slave fleeing from his master's whip in some second-rate comedy.'
'That's enough, Mother.' Fulvia turned her flinty gaze to Sempronia. The test of wills between the two of them was almost palpable, like the grating sound of steel against a whetting stone. Sempronia visibly relented, sinking back beneath her red blanket. Fulvia, protector of her dead husband's dignity, sat upright. What sort of man had Clodius been, to contend with the two of them on a daily basis, and with his sister thrown in for good measure? No wonder he had thought himself worthy to run the city, if he had learned to keep control of his own household.
'What was the nature of this quarrel between your husband and Antony?'
'I told you, I never really knew what started the incident.' 'But surely you have some idea.'
Fulvia became distant again, gazing out of the window. Was this oscillation between harsh clarity and withdrawal calculated to keep me off balance, or was it simply her nature, or a kind of malady induced by the shock of her husband's murder? 'You needn't be concerned with such specifics, Gordianus. All I want is to find out whether Marc Antony played any part whatsoever in what happened to Publius on the Appian Way.'
'First, I think I would need to determine to my own satisfaction exactly what did happen on the Appian Way.'
'Does that mean you'll accept the task?'
'No. I'll have to think about it first.'
'When can you give me your answer?'
I rubbed my chin. 'Tomorrow?'
Fulvia nodded.
'In the meantime,' I said, 'I want you to tell me exactly what happened that day, so far as you know. I want to know what Clodius was doing away from Rome, who might have known of his movements, who brought his body back to Rome, and how the skirmish began.'
Fulvia drew a deep breath. 'In the first place, this talk of an ambush is complete nonsense, unless it was Milo who ambushed Clodius. It was certainly Milo's men who began the fight, without any provocation whatsoever. My husband was completely blameless. And the atrocities Milo's men committed at our country villa afterwards, terrorizing the servants…'
An hour later our interview came to an end.
I still had not made up my mind about helping Fulvia, though a remuneration in silver had been mentioned that was sorely tempting, especially considering the damage that had been done to my house and the fact that I needed more bodyguards. It seemed that the more prosperous I grew, the more costly it became to live — literally, to stay alive. Simple necessity made Fulvia's offer attractive; it would also give me an excuse to go poking about into the incident that had set Rome aflame and ended in the death of a man very close to me. On the other hand, as always, there was the degree of danger to be considered. Bethesda would say I was mad. So would Eco, probably, before he insisted on sharing the danger with me.
My head was full of these thoughts as I rode home beside Clodia in her litter, but not so full that I failed to notice her perfume and the warmth of her leg where it pressed against mine.
'Did you accept my sister-in-law's commission?' she asked.
'Not yet.'
We arrived at my house. As I moved to step out of the litter, Clodia gripped my arm. 'If you do accept, Gordianus, I hope that you'll share with me whatever you may discover. It matters to me very much, to know all I can about my brother's death.'
It was the sixth hour of the day and I was hungry for the midday meal. I headed towards the kitchen, but Davus approached me in the hall and told me that Eco was waiting for me. I gathered from the look on Davus's face that someone had severely scolded him for letting me go out without him.
I found Eco in my study, and also Bethesda. 'Husband, where have you been?'
'Didn't Davus tell you? I was called away on business.'
Bethesda's nostrils twitched. She cocked her head. Self-consciously I raised my sleeve to my nose and breathed a faint scent of spikenard and crocus oil.
'Clodia,' declared Bethesda. 'Oh, I knew already. Davus told me about seeing her litter.'
'What did she want, Papa?' Eco looked almost as disapproving as Bethesda.
'Actually,' I began, and then was interrupted by the reappearance of Davus at the door.
'Another visitor, Master.' 'Yes?'
'He says his name is Tiro ' It was like the old Etruscan adage,
