voice. 'I serve the Good Goddess — '
'Do you think that will protect you? That it will mean anything to such men, any more than your brother's priesthood will mean something to them?'
'Then you believe…'
'That you are in great danger, or soon will be.'
Her smile at last faded and her eyes for the first time seemed to truly see me. 'Who are you?'
'A man who was glad to hear the truth and wishes you no harm.'
She stared at me for a long moment. 'What would you suggest that I do?'
'At the very least, stop telling what you know to every traveller who passes by, and tell your brother to do the same. Keep your mouths shut! Better than that, I'd suggest that both of you take a lesson from the birds.'
'What?'
'Fly south for the rest of the winter.' Like the innkeeper's widow, I thought. Perhaps it wasn't grief that had sent her to Rhegium, but common sense. 'Fly south, or else go to Rome with your brother and seek the widow Fulvia's protection. She'll expect something in return, especially if there's a trial, and you could be placing your fortunes with a losing side. But whatever you do, leave this place.'
'But who would attend to the shrine? How would I make a living?'
'I suspect you still have sufficient attributes to support yourself, one way or another.'
Her smile flickered. 'I'll think about it. In the meantime, I'll take your advice and say no more.' Just as boldly as her brother, she held out her empty palm. When Eco looked into his purse with a parsimonious frown, I took the bag from him and pulled out one of the larger coins.
The sight of it in her hand prompted the return of her former glassy-eyed state. 'You're generous, stranger, with your advice and with your money.'
'Use it for lodgings when you leave.'
'Perhaps. But you've paid for more than I've given, I think. Shall I tell you something else? Something I haven't told to every curious traveller passing by?' She saw my reaction and laughed. 'I love that expression on a man's face — so eager and attentive. Well, then: do you remember passing the House of the Vestals on your way here from Bovillae?'
'Yes. Your brother pointed it out.'
'But you didn't stop to speak to any of the Vestals?'
'No.'
'Since you seem so anxious to know everything that happened that day, it might profit you to speak to the Virgo Maxima. Ask her about the visitor who came to her after the battle. Ask about the offering that was made and refused.'
'Can't you tell me?'
'The virgins of the goddess Vesta do not tread on my authority, and I do not tread on theirs. Ask the Virgo Maxima, if you can manage to penetrate her haughtiness. Whatever you do, don't let her know that I sent you. Whether she confides in you or not is her affair. There, now I've given you full value for your coin.' She began to walk back to the shrine.
'Felicia…'
She turned back. 'Yes?'
'One last question. I meant to ask your brother and forgot. A name: Marc Antony. Does it mean anything to you?' She shook her head, turned away and resumed walking. 'And Felicia…' 'Yes?'
'May the Good Goddess protect you from harm.'
XVIII
Following Felicia's advice, we turned around and made our way back to the House of the Vestals.
From the Appian Way a narrow, winding lane led up to the forecourt and main entrance. Both the lane and the building were clearly of recent construction; broken earth and tree stumps lined the lanes and the sharp edges and stained walls of the house were not yet softened by the wear of time. It was a humble dwelling compared to the great House of the Vestals in Rome, but hardly a hovel; many a dweller on the Palatine would have been proud to claim it. Or so it appeared from the outside.
It is not true, as many people think, that all men are forbidden at all times to enter any part of a sanctified building where Vestals dwell. I myself had once penetrated into the very sleeping cubicles of the House of the Vestals in Rome, when I was called upon to investigate the scandal that led to the trials of Catilina and Crassus for desecrating the purity of certain of the Vestals. The penalty for such a crime is death for the man, and for the Vestal something far worse: she is buried alive.
That incident was now twenty years in the past, and the circumstances had been highly unusual. But it occurred to me, as I recalled it, that Clodius had been involved in that affair as well. It had been one of his earliest escapades. The general consensus finally held that Clodius had tried to falsely incriminate the accused parties for his own obscure motives, and the reaction against him had been so hostile that for a while he had dropped from sight. Early on, Clodius had set a pattern of attacking powerful men and revered institutions, and had occasionally paid a price for his impudence.
I had no expectation of being allowed into the sleeping chambers of the House of the Vestals on Mount Alba, but if the rules of the dwelling followed those, of the one in Rome, during daylight hours the foyer and perhaps one or two public rooms would be open to male visitors. Vestals are not entirely shut off from the world of men, after all, and must have practical means of meeting and dealing with the tradesmen who serve their needs and the state priests who oversee their activities.
Still, the wizened slave woman who answered the door peered at Eco and me as if she had never seen a man before, or so I thought until I realized that her squinting was due to her poor eyesight. Her hearing also seemed to be impaired. I found myself repeating my request to see the Virgo Maxima in a louder and louder voice, until at last a stout woman wearing the simple white woollen gown of a Vestal appeared behind the slave and gently told her to move aside.
The Vestal wore the traditional headdress of her order, an oblong, purple-bordered scarf wound around her close-cropped hair and secured with a metal clasp at her forehead. Her plain, round face was untouched by cosmetics, but her skin had the smooth creaminess of women who have spent their lives indoors and have never had to labour. I judged her to be well into her sixties, which meant that she had long ago completed her original thirty-year term of service to the goddess and had voluntarily elected to stay on as a virgin for life.
'You'll have to excuse the slave,' she said. 'She's a little deaf.'
'So I noticed, except that she didn't seem to have any trouble understanding you, even though her back was turned to you.'
'She only has difficulty hearing a lower range of tones — men's voices. She can understand most of the women here with no trouble. Her deafness is not a disability under this roof Now, you say you wish to see the Virgo Maxima. What is your business?'
'It's a matter of some delicacy. I would rather speak of it only to the Virgo Maxima.'
She gave me a brittle smile at odds with the softness of her face. 'You'll have to do better than that, I'm afraid. To begin with, who are you and where do you come from?'
'My name is Gordianus. This is my son Eco. There's also a slave with us, looking after our horses in the court. We come from Rome.'
'What business brought you here?'
'Once again, I'd rather speak of that only to — '
'You must understand, Gordianus of Rome, that there recently has been a great deal of violence and disruption in these parts. Men have been killed in broad daylight only a few steps from our door. The local innkeeper was horribly murdered, his young wife made a widow. And the troubles of this house started well before the recent violence. Driven from our home, forced to look on helplessly while sacred groves were desecrated — I won't go into those marten, except to say that at the best of times the women of this house are accustomed to being suspicious of men from the outside world, if only for the sake of preserving their purity. Given our recent experiences, we have
