these men for the moment.'
'Of course, of course!' She mocked him by making a pretence of being intimidated, fluttering her eyelashes and wringing her hands. 'I know the rules. You get first chance at the travellers from the north, I get first chance at the ones from the south.'
'Besides, Felicia, no one here can go into your shrine. All men!'
'So I see!' She appraised each of us in turn, smiling at Eco, letting her eyes linger on Davus, looking at me last.
'Oh, all right, Felicia, they're yours. I have to get back to the altar anyway.' The priest looked up at me and unabashedly stuck out his empty palm.
'Ah, yes,' I said. 'The gratuity-for the upkeep of Jupiter's altar.' I nodded to Eco, who produced a sum from his purse that was as usual a little too stingy. I frowned, and he tipped out another coin. I nodded, took the money and dropped it into the priest's open palm, where it vanished from sight with almost magical speed.
The priest, without another word, did the same.
XVII
'So, Felicia,' I said, finding it impossible not to return the woman's beaming smile, 'you must be the attendant at the shrine of the Good Goddess.'
'I see to the needs of the female travellers who wish to stop and worship here, yes.' 'For a gratuity.'
'Only an impious mortal expects to get something from the gods in return for nothing.'
I nodded. 'You and your brother seem to, have made quite a business of showing the local sights to visitors.'
'People want to know what happened here on the Appian Way.'
'Indeed they do.'
'But how did you know that the two of us are brother and sister? Did Felix tell you?'
I had referred to the priest as her brother in a religious sense, not — suspecting they were actually kin. It was a family business, then, attending to the shrines and profiting from the tourists on this stretch of the Appian Way. There seemed to be a bit of sibling rivalry as well.
'I suppose my brother also told you that I used to be a temple prostitute in the service of Isis in my younger days,' Felicia said. Not waiting for an answer, she raised her chin, adding even more height to her tall, narrow figure. 'Yes, it's true. I was a temple prostitute. But today I serve only Fauna, the Good Goddess.' She seemed quite proud of both facts.
'Fascinating,' I said. 'And did you happen to be on duty here that day?'
'The day of the battle? Oh, yes.' 'And did you see what happened?'
'Oh, yes!' It seemed to me that she kept her eyes unnaturally wide open, as people do when fighting off sleep or trying to frighten small children. She pointed towards Bovillae. 'Milo's party came up the hill from Bovillae — such a lot of them!'
I raised an eyebrow. 'All hairdressers and cosmeticians, from what I've heard.'
'Not at all. Well, yes, there did seem to be a number of bath and bedchamber slaves — you should have heard the way they squealed when the fighting began! But there were plenty of armed men as well. In front, behind, all up and down the sides. Like a little army marching off to battle.'
'Where was Milo?'
'Near the front of the procession, in a carriage with his wife.' 'Did they stop here?'
'At the shrine? No. Fausta Cornelia never stopped here.'
'Really? I would assume that Sulla's daughter, a woman of such high standing, must play a leading role in the cult of the Good Goddess.'
'In Rome, perhaps. But I find that most of the women who stop.at this shrine are from smaller towns and more humble circumstances. Many of the women from the city seem to consider themselves a bit above stopping at such a humble place to pay their respects to the goddess. They had rather attend to her in more lavish surroundings, I suppose.'
'That hardly seems pious of them.'
'I make no judgment.' Her smile never wavered. Her eyes never narrowed. 'But you wanted to know about the skirmish. Well, it began right there, directly in front of the shrine. I was sitting on the steps, warming myself in a bit of sunshine. I saw the whole thing.'
'What hour was this?'
'About the ninth hour.'
So far, every witness had confirmed Fulvia's account and refuted Milo, who placed the skirmish two hours later. 'You're certain?'
'Yes. There's a sundial in the glade behind the shrine. I'd looked at it not long before.'
'How did me skirmish begin?'
'Milo and his company were coming up the hill, Clodius and his men were coming down the hill.'
'Clodius was out on the open road, then? He didn't suddenly appear out of the woods?' 'No.'
'He didn't lay an ambush?'
'Not at all.'
'Was he on horseback?'
'Yes. So were a couple of his companions. The rest were on foot.'
'Were there any women-or children with him?' 'No. All grown men.' 'How many?'
'About twenty or twenty-five.' 'Armed?'
'They looked like a group of trained fighters, if that's what you mean. You seem to be more curious about such details than most of the travellers I've talked to.'
'Do I?' I studied the empty stretch of road. 'So, when the two parties met, did they simply begin fighting?'
'No, it wasn't like that.'
'Did they exchange insults?'
'No, not at fust. Quite the opposite, in fact. As soon as the two parties caught sight of each other, everyone fell silent. They all stiffened a bit. I could see the reaction as it moved through the two groups, like twin ripples from the meeting point. Necks stiff) jaws clenched, eyes set straight ahead — posturing, the way men do around each other. There was a bit of confusion as they passed. The road is wide, but both parties had to draw in and stretch out a bit to make room. Clodius's men became more spread out than Milo's. There was some jostling even so, and some grumbling. There was a tension in the air that set my teeth on edge — how can I explain it? — like raking your fingernails across a slate tile. I remember gasping suddenly and realizing that I'd been holding my breath, watching and waiting for something dreadful to happen.
'While the two groups were still passing each other, Clodius and his friends on horseback drew away from the road, just in front of where I was sitting, letting their men go ahead of them. Milo and his wife proceeded up the hill in their carriage, getting farther and farther away. Finally the last of Milo's party and the last of Clodius's party passed one another, right in front of me. Clodius tugged at his reins and fell in behind his men. I drew a breath of relief. I whispered a prayer to the Good Goddess, thankful that nothing had happened after all. But Clodius couldn't leave well enough alone. Some demon must have poked at him. He looked back and shouted something over his shoulder at the two gladiators at the rear of Milo's train.' 'Two gladiators?'
'Yes, acting as a rearguard, I suppose. They're famous, or so my brother says…'
'Eudamus and Birria?' 'Yes, those two.'
'And what did Clodius say to them?'
She blinked. 'If I were still a temple prostitute and not an attendant of the Good Goddess, I would quote his exact words.' 'A modest approximation, then?'
'It was something like, 'Why so glum-looking, Birria? Hasn't Eudamus been letting you clean his sword often enough?' ' 'I see. Then what happened?'
'The one called Birria spun around — lightning quick, like snapping your fingers — and threw his spear at
