a Greek hetaera, after all. That is our reputation, at least.'
'Their lovers, not their husbands?' I queried.
'Why waste fine technique on a husband? First, they'd wonder how their wives learned such depraved practices. Then, they'd just go and teach their mistresses how to do it.'
'I thought we were cynical in Rome. You people make us seem like infants.'
'You Romans vie with one another for world power, which is political and military. Here, men vie for local power, which is political and commercial. To that end they indulge in all manner of dirty politics, espionage, personal leverage, scandalmongering, slander, bribery-the list is a long one. Their wives and daughters please themselves while striving to improve their own positions. Rome and Baiae: the same game, just a different scale.'
'And here you add a certain sophistication we lack in Rome,' I said.
'Do you? Or is the famous Roman reticence, gravitas, stoicism, and so forth just a pose to cover the reality that you are a pack of voluptuaries as degenerate as any Sybarite?'
My conversations with this woman never seemed to manage to stay on the intended course, which was to find out what had happened when the priest's daughter and Gaeto had been murdered, what had been going on in the Numidian's house and business. She was continually diverging down irrelevant and suggestive paths. To my distress, I found that I had little objection to this. I decided to let her speak on. I've often learned revealing truths in what is intended to be inane or misleading conversation. And if, in the meantime, I enjoyed the spectacle, well, what Roman doesn't enjoy a spectacle?
'Actually,' I told her, 'we're just a community of Italian farmers who happened to be good at fighting. We worry a lot that, if we get too accustomed to luxury, we'll lose our military edge. When we conquered Sicily more than two hundred years ago, among the loot brought back were fine couches and pillows. The censors were convinced that such luxuries would turn us into a horde of indolent, decadent degenerates. There were also some statues and paintings in the loot, and it was feared that these would cause us to become effete art critics.'
'Couches,' she murmured, 'pillows. Yet in spite of these menaces you are still conquering away like drunken Macedonians following their golden-haired boy.'
'Personally, I think these fears of decadence are overstated. I truly enjoy luxury and so do most other Romans. Yet Caesar's legions are the toughest we have ever fielded. But we have never felt-I suppose we've never felt really
'Perhaps that's why you are so belligerent, so that people won't get the wrong idea.'
'We do emphasize public image,' I agreed.
'And how closely does public image conform to private reality?' she asked. 'You Romans hold ruthlessness to be a virtue and female un-chastity to be a great evil, but which causes more misery?'
'I didn't say we were logical. Logic is for Greeks. We value two things above all: military strength and our traditions. If the traditions are somewhat outdated, we love them anyway. As for wifely chastity, it was the attribute of our ancestral village women. These days, only the Vestals and Caesar's wife are above suspicion. The reigning queens of society are the likes of Clodia, Fulvia, Sempronia, and a score of others who are as scandalous as they are entertaining.'
'What hypocrites you all are!' she cried.
'That's the advantage of being the greatest power in the world. You can be a hypocrite, take any pose, say what you like, and everyone has to smile and accept it.'
'Power is a wonderful thing. Without it, what are we?'
'It strikes me that you are in a powerless position now, Jocasta. You are a widow; your husband's heir, your stepson, plans to abandon the business here and return to Numidia, where a woman's lot is not a desirable one, and I imagine that of a supernumerary widow is even less felicitous. Gelon may treat his mother with honor, but how will he, and she, treat you?'
'I have no intention of going to Numidia,' she asserted, apparently quite unperturbed. 'Gelon fancies a life there of living in tents, raiding the neighbors, endless riding and lion hunting, living on the flesh of gazelles, and trapping elephants and so forth. I'm sure it's all quite exciting, all something out of Homer. But while it may be a fine life for a man, it has few attractions for a woman, especially a woman of refinement like myself. I am quite capable of making my own way in the world. When Gelon leaves, I shall wave to him from the dock. Assuming, of course, that he is not executed for the murder of poor Gorgo.'
'Speaking of which, that trial is coming up soon. At our last interview you speculated that your husband might forbid you to testify. That is no longer a factor. I shall summon you to speak.'
She inclined her head. 'As the praetor wishes, of course.'
'And will your testimony serve to clear Gelon of the charge?'
'As I told you before, I saw him that evening and again the next morning. I shall testify to that.'
'Most conscientious,' I told her. 'Expect my lictors to call upon you soon.'
With a few more formal, meaningless politenesses, I left her and returned to the town house.
'You mean she is not even going to lie in court to save her stepson?' Antonia said, aghast. We were dawdling over lunch and I had given a somewhat abbreviated account of my interview with Jocasta.
'She will be under oath,' Marcus said archly. 'Perhaps she fears the anger of the gods.'
Circe snorted. 'She's a Greek. The Greeks think the gods admire a good liar. No, there must be a coolness between stepmother and stepson. Either she doesn't care if he's executed, or she actually wants him to die.'
'If Gelon is executed,' Julia said, 'where does that leave his father's estate? If it passes to his local widow, that might be reason enough for her to want him to be executed.'
'I've been considering that,' I said. 'My legal advisers tell me that the executor of a resident foreigner's will must be his citizen partner. I will have to summon this Gratius Glabrio all the way from Verona. By the time he reaches here, I will be in Bruttium or Tarentum. Then I will have to come back here to hear the case.'
'If this Glabrio exists at all,' Julia said. 'And by then Gelon will be either executed or let go. I don't think much of his chances at the moment.'
'What is her motive to lie about the partner?' Hermes wanted to know.
'One,' Antonia said, 'to cover her ignorance. She says she's been managing Gaeto's affairs in his absence. If he kept the identity of his partner secret, she may not want anybody to know it, so she makes up a fake one who is safely distant. As you say, by the time she's caught in the lie, this matter will be settled one way or the other.' She popped a honeyed cherry onto her mouth, chewed, and spat out the pit. 'Two, she knows, but she and the partner have an agreement to keep the arrangement secret for the time being.'
'Why?' I asked, intrigued at this line of reasoning.
'You'll know that when you learn the contents of the will,' she said, 'but it will have to be something advantageous to both Jocasta and this partner, and it will require that Gelon be out of the way.'
'I'm beginning to be glad that we brought you along on this trip,' I said to her. She had a natural grasp of the ins and outs of devious, deceitful behavior. A typical Antonian, really. Her brother, the soon-to-be triumvir Marcus Antonius, was as close to a decent human being as that family ever produced, and even he was a criminal on a world scale.
'By the way,' Julia said, 'just where is the will and why hasn't it been read already?'
'It's deposited in the Temple of Juno the Protector in Cumae,' Hermes reported. 'That's the local custom. It won't be released while the dead man's son is under arrest, but the praetor can subpoena it for the trial.'
'See that it's done,' I said. 'I want a look at it.'
'Time is pressing,' Julia said. 'We have fewer than ten days before we must be in Bruttium for the scheduled assizes. When will Gelon be tried? You really can't stall much longer.'
'The city council has already notified us,' Hermes said. 'Tomorrow is the day of a local festival and all official business is forbidden. The next day is a court day, and after that you have to hold court in Stabiae, so the day after tomorrow is the only day Gelon can be tried.'
'At least the docket is otherwise clear,' I said. 'We can devote the whole day to the trial. Who will prosecute on Diocles' behalf?'
'A citizen named Vibianus,' Hermes informed us. 'He studied law with Sulpicius Galba and has won a number of important cases.'
