'I'll be as forthright as I can. I understand that a visitor came to this house, shortly after Clodius was killed down in Bovillae.'
She looked at me intently but did not answer.
'I understand that this visitor made some sort of offering.'
'Who told you this?'
'I have been asked not to say.'
'You keep a secret, yet you think that I should reveal to you the business of this house?'
'Virgo Maxima, I would never ask you to betray a confidence. If what I ask is improper, forgive me.'
She regarded me for a long moment. 'Because you once helped the Vestals in Rome, I shall tell you what you want to know. Yes, a woman came here that day.'
'At what time?'
'Very late in the afternoon. Shadows were gathering.' 'Who was she?'
'I can't tell you that, not because I wish to keep a secret from you, but because I don't know. The day was cold; she wore a robe with a hood and kept her face hidden, and as I say, the daylight was failing.'
'But you heard her voice?'
'She spoke in a low, husky voice hardly above a whisper.' 'As if she were concealing her voice as well as her face?' 'That thought occurred to me at the time.' 'What did she want?'
'She came bearing news. She said there had been a battle between Clodius's men and Milo's men out on the road, and that it had ended down in Bovillae. She told me that Milo was unwounded but that Clodius was dead.'
'So she merely came to give you this news?'
'No, she gave me an offering — a rather generous offering — and requested that we make a prayer to Vesta on her behalf'
'A prayer?'
'Yes. A prayer of thanksgiving.' 'Giving thanks that Milo was safe?'
'That was not how she put it.' The Virgo Maxima lowered her eyes. 'She asked for a prayer of thanksgiving that Clodius was dead.'
'Isn't that unusual, giving thanks to the goddess for a man's death?'
'Unusual but not entirely unheard of. There are some deaths at which the gods themselves rejoice.' 'You accepted her offering?' 'Yes.'
'You made the prayer of thanksgiving?'
'The goddess received it as warmly as any other prayer.'
I tried to remember exactly what Felicia had said to me. Ask her about the offering that was made and refused… 'You say that she made a generous offering and that you accepted it.'
'Of course I accepted it. If the sisterhood here on Mount Alba were wealthy enough to wave aside offerings, we should have paid to build a new house ourselves when Clodius evicted us.'
'But wasn't there something she offered which you refused?'
The Virgo Maxima eyed me warily. 'If you already know so much, why do you ask?'
'To find out what I don't know.'
She considered for a long moment before she answered. 'Yes, she offered something which I didn't take. She offered it as proof that Clodius was dead, and also as payment for the prayer. It was Clodius's gold signet ring, taken from his dead finger. The proof I accepted. But the ring was hardly appropriate for payment. I told her that coins would please the goddess more.'
'Where is the ring now?'
'The woman still has it, for all I know. And now, Gordianus, I think it is time — '
'Only two more questions, please, Virgo Maxima.' 'Very well. The first?'
'Milo's wife, Fausta Cornelia — would you know her by sight, or by the sound of her voice?'
She smiled at so obvious a question. 'Perhaps, perhaps not. I've met many senators' and magistrates' wives at one time or another. If you asked me to pick her out of a crowd, I couldn't, but I suspect she would look familiar. Would I recognize her if a hood hid her face, and she spoke in a whisper? Almost certainly not. And your last question for me, Gordianus?'
'Can you tell me anything interesting about Marc Antony?'
She laughed. 'One question so transparent, the other so peculiar. Have we moved on to a different subject entirely, Gordianus?'
'I have a reason for asking.'
She shook her head. 'Marc Antony? The son of Antonius who failed against the pirates?' 'Yes.'
'Off fighting Gauls, isn't he? Really, I know nothing about the young man.'
'Neither does anyone else, apparently. Virgo Maxima, I thank you for your indulgence.'
She regarded me kindly. 'People should remember the past, and past favours.'
'They should; and would more often, I imagine, if they could spend less time fretting about the future.'
XIX
'A mystery woman!' said Eco, when we were back on our horses. 'The Virgo Maxima?'
'No, Papa! The woman who came to her with Clodius's ring.' 'Not too mysterious, from the look of things.' 'You think it was Fausta Cornelia?'
'Who else? Rather vulgar of Milo, to send his wife off to the nearest religious establishment to brag about what he'd done. Unless it was Fausta's idea, which I suppose is more likely. Women of her social standing have a certain sense of how to mark the auspiciousness of an occasion. She probably wanted to offer sincere thanks to Vesta for looking after her household, and incidentally to indulge in a little blasphemous gloating.'
'But why conceal her identity? She never seems to bother about hiding anything else.'
'You mean her affairs?'
'I said it before: the woman has a penchant for getting caught. Not the secretive sort by nature.'
'Perhaps she hid her identity thinking to conceal her husband's role in the incident'
'Is that credible? The next day the whole world would be talking about Milo's part.'
'Ah, but this was only shortly after the battle, Eco. Everything must have still seemed very much up in the air. Something awesome had occurred, overwhelming yet also exhilarating. Clodius, dead at last! Cause for jubilation- but also for fear. How will the world react? Will there be some terrible retribution? Can the crime still be concealed? Discretion is advised, but for something so extraordinary, there must
be an act of pious thanksgiving. So while her husband regroups, Fausta slips away to the nearby House of the Vestals. She gloats over Clodius's death — but in disguise. Where is the mystery?' 'I suppose you're right, Papa…'
'I only wonder where Clodius's ring ended up. The decent thing would be to return it to his widow by an anonymous courier. Somehow I imagine it on a shelf with Milo's old wrestling trophies, where he can take it down to fondle and gloat over whenever he's had a bit too much wine.'
'Possession of the ring would make for a damning piece of evidence.'
'As would the Virgo Maxima's tale, if she could say that it was Fausta who came to her. But the ring is missing, and all the Virgo Maxima can tell us with certainty is that an unknown woman came to the House of the Vestals — a mystery woman, as you say. I think Fausta Cornelia may be cleverer than her husband.'
'Didn't we know that already? She keeps fooling him over and over.'
'Or making a fool of him, anyway. And here we are, back at the shrine of the Good Goddess. I don't see Felicia about, do you? Perhaps she took my advice and headed south already.'
'More likely she's gone home for the day. The sun's getting low, Papa. What next?'
'I'd hoped to make it to Clodius's villa today, but we probably don't have time.'
'I think we've accomplished quite a lot for one day, Papa.'
'We found out more than I expected to. Yes, I think it's time to find Pompey's villa and come to rest.'
The way to Pompey's place was easy to find. A pair of stone pylons chiselled with the letter M (for Magnus)
