men would have come back and finished him off. But there he was in our litter, getting blood on the pillows…'
'I made the decision,' said Tedia. Her voice was like cold iron. 'It came to me all at once. I happened to look up at the inn, and saw her in the window of the upper storey. Her face seemed to hover there, like a portrait in a frame. I saw the face of Vesta and I knew what to do.'
I shook my head. 'The face you saw was the poor, terrified widow of the innkeeper.'
Tedia looked at me disparagingly. 'How do you know what I saw? Were you there?'
I saw no point in contradicting her. 'How did you kill him?'
She removed her hands from her father's shoulders and reached up to undo the blue ribbon that secured the linen mantle at the back of her head. She wound the ends of the ribbon around her strong, supple hands and pulled it taut. 'I killed him with this. I only wish the goddess could have watched, but I had to do it inside the litter, out of sight. The slaves were there; they had no business seeing. I climbed into the litter and moved behind him. Father climbed in after me and we let the curtains drop. I slipped the ribbon over his neck. Father held him from the front.'
'We could never have managed it if he hadn't already been weakened by his wounds,' said Tedius matter-of- factly. 'Look at us — an old, crippled man and a woman. But we managed it.'
'I saw the body,' I said. 'The wound at his shoulder was deep. He probably would have died anyway.'
'Don't be so sure,' said Tedius. 'I've seen plenty of battles, and plenty of soldiers who looked to be in worse condition than Clodius did, who nonetheless recovered. There was a surprising amount of life still left in that jackal. I know; I watched the last of it leave him. Unmolested, he might very well have survived the trip back to Rome. He would still be alive today.'
'You claim credit for his death, then. You seem to be proud of it.'
'I'm proud of my daughter, yes! You have a son, don't you, Gordianus? I remember, he was with you when you last came here. Well, I'm like every other man — I would like to have had a son, to watch him grow to manhood, to see him prove his courage in battle and show his convictions in the Forum, But I had no son. I only had a daughter. But that daughter has always been faithful to me and never disappointed me, and when her mother died, she willingly took her place. No man could ask for a better daughter. And now look what she's done! She accomplished what no man was able to do either by battle or by using the law: she put an end to Publius Clodius. An enemy of the state, a menace to decency, a blight on the Republic, a disgrace to his ancestors. And it was my daughter who finally put an end to him! The gods and goddesses manifest their wills in mysterious ways, Gordianus. They'd had enough of Publius Clodius, and snuffed him out. Who am I, an old, lame senator, to question their choice of a vessel?'
I studied the two of them, so grimly self-satisfied, models of stern Roman virtue. 'Why didn't you push his body from the litter and leave him by the road, then? Why did you send him on to Rome?'
'The litter was polluted by his blood and offal,' said Tedia. 'I could never enter it again.'
'It was his last request of us, to send him home,' her father said. 'It's as I said to you before: once a man is dead, what use is there in despising him? No, I wouldn't leave him lying in the road, like a dead dog. I sent his body on to Rome, and told the bearers to deliver it with great respect into the care of his widow.'
'His ring,' I said, remembering. 'His body arrived without his ring. Did you take it from him?'
Tedia lowered her eyes. 'That was a mistake. I thought it would be pleasing to the goddess.'
'You were the woman who went to the House of the Vestals and offered Clodius's ring for a prayer of thanksgiving?'
'Yes.'
I suddenly understood the strange look I had seen on Philemon's face in the Salacious Tavern. I had asked why he had not appealed to Tedius's daughter for help when he was herded in bondage up the Appian Way, past the place where Tedius was resting below the House of the Vestals. What I had taken for offence was merely puzzlement. Philemon had never seen Tedia, for Tedia had been up at the House of the Vestals.
'You hid your face from the Virgo Maxima,' I said. 'You disguised your voice.'
'Yes. Otherwise the Vestals would have known me.'
'Weren't you proud of what you'd done?'
'I felt no need to boast or show, my face. I was a mere vessel for the goddess, and it was to the goddess alone that I wished to offer the ring. But the Virgo Maxima refused to take it. She said that such an offering would be impious.'
I shook my head. 'Everyone thinks it was Milo's wife who — '
Tedia laughed. I could tell she was not accustomed to laughing. 'Fausta Cornelia? That blasphemous cow? It's hard to imagine her making a prayer for anything, except perhaps for the gods to bring her a new lover every day. What a great joke, that anyone should have mistaken her for me.'
'Where is the ring now?'
'Why do you ask?'
'Because I should like to return it to the family. You admit that taking it was a mistake. The goddess has no use for it. To keep it as a trophy surely would be hubris, a curse on your own house.'
Tedia considered this and seemed about to speak, but her father shook his head. 'The ring is the only real evidence against us. All that we've told you is only a story from our own lips. Your witness at the tavern — that girl in the window, I suppose — may have seen that Clodius was still alive, but she couldn't have seen into the litter. No one saw the actual moment of his death except my daughter and me. The Vestals know that a woman brought them Clodius's ring, but they never saw the woman's face. Only the fact that we possess the ring offers any proof of what we did. Why should we give it up to you, Gordianus? What will you tell the family of Clodius, that you recovered the ring from the true killers of their beloved, a woman and a lame old man? Shall we have to suffer their revenge?'
'What should I tell them, that I happened to find it by the side of the road? Think, Tedia, of the tears you shed when you heard the testimony of Fulvia. Do you really want to keep the ring?'
She took a breath and began to move, but her father clutched her arm.
'Only if you make an oath, Gordianus,' said Tedius. 'No promises!'
'There will be, if you want the ring. You'll make an oath never to repeat what you heard here today, and in return we shall give it to you. Think, Gordianus, what purpose will it serve to incite the Clodians against my daughter and me? The mob has finally been assuaged by Milo's conviction; you’ll simply make fools of them and set them rioting again. Think how irritated Pompey will be, to discover that his court failed to find the whole truth and that the conviction of Milo is flawed! Rome has been ripped apart by what happened here on the Appian Way. But now the people have been pacified and the wicked on both sides have been punished — Clodius is dead, Milo is exiled. What purpose could there possibly be in delivering a last revelation, except to massage your own vanity, to show off your perseverance and cleverness? Make the oath I require; return the ring to the one who loved Clodius best, and leave the rest to the gods.'
I walked to the window. Below, the town of Aricia, where Clodius had given his final address, had darkened to a jumble of deep blue shadows. I thought for a long time. What did I owe to Milo, who had committed such a grievous offence against me, and would have killed me outright if Cicero had not restrained him? What did I owe to Cicero, who acquiesced to my abduction? Or to the friends and heirs of Clodius, who instigated the riots that resulted in the sacking of my house and the death of Belbo? What did I owe to Rome itself — for who could say any longer what Rome was, or would become in the next few years? All was in flux, all was chaos and confusion. I found myself confronted by what I most craved, the truth, but I also found myself utterly alone; even Eco was not there to share the discovery or advise me. That was just as well; I doubted that he would have approved of the decision I made. I turned back to Sextus Tedius.
'You have my word; I swear by the shade of my father that I'll keep your secret. Bring me the ring.'
Tedia left the room. While she was gone, a slave entered with a burning taper and lit the lamps, dispelling the growing darkness. Tedia returned and dropped the ring into my open palm, looking glad to be rid of it.
It was heavy, made of solid gold. I saw the name p. clodius pulcher engraved on it, but was at a loss to see any other ornament. Surely there should be some reference to the glories of his illustrious ancestors? Then I held it to the light and noticed the honeycomb pattern scored into the glittering surface of the ring itself, inside and out, little interlocking polygons like the perfectly fitted stones which paved the Appian Way. The ring was the very image of the great road, cast in a circle without beginning or end, a homage to the place where its wearer had fallen to his enemies and breathed his last with a blue ribbon wound tight around his throat.
