“Appreciated,” Getorius remarked, “but I’m almost too excited to eat. Flavius Aetius was just here with good news.”
Arcadia grasped his arm. “The charge against you has been dropped?”
“Not quite, cara…” Before explaining, Getorius waited for Silvia to leave, and checked the hallway for anyone who might overhear, then took hold of Arcadia’s hands. “I had an idea when the commander last came to see me. During the course of our conversation he reminded me of an Egyptian colony in Ravenna—”
“Idea about what?”
“I’d been reading Herodotus on ancient embalming methods. It was admittedly a long shot, but I thought some of their Isis priests might have found out about Behan’s death.”
“And excised the organs?” Arcadia pulled her hands away. “Husband, it’s hard to believe they’d be that bold.”
“I said it was a long shot. I asked Aetius to look for canopic jars in their temple. He found all four of them.”
“Then you’re exonerated!” she cried. “That’s wonderful.”
“There’s still the matter of the scalpel. But Placidia did say she would talk to the bishop about having me released.”
“When would you be freed?”
“Bishop Chrysologos is preoccupied with the Nativity celebration this week. Probably not until the new year.”
“Getorius, that’s too late. If a duplicate will exists it would be brought out in place of the original at the Nativity. At least Rabbi Zadok thought it might happen then, but we still don’t know how that might be done.”
“Woman, what do you want me to do?” he snapped, then regretted his outburst. “Sorry, Arcadia. I’ve been frustrated just sitting in here, but you’re right. Aetius’ discovery doesn’t change the threat posed by the Secundus Papyrus.” He kissed his wife’s forehead and held her close, burying his face in her hair.
“I understand.” Arcadia pulled free after a moment. “Now eat what I brought.”
“Smells good.” He picked at the corner of the cloth covering the basket. “What did Agrica cook?”
“Pork and lentils,” she told him, taking a bronze pan from inside the basket. “Put that dish and knife on the table, I’ll spoon your food out.” Getorius laid the hamper back on the bed and sat on the chair. “It was clever of you to remember that Egyptian rite,” Arcadia commented as she watched her husband slice into the meat.
“A chance remark of Sigisvult’s made me curious enough to read Herodotus. And you had mentioned the historian yourself in the clinic once.”
“When we talked about Pandora,” she recalled.
Getorius noticed that Arcadia’s brows had tightened into a scowl. “Cara, don’t look so worried. I can stand a few more days of this.”
“But there’s still the problem of your scalpel. Finding the jars doesn’t explain why someone tried to implicate you in a crime.”
“True, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about that. If my being detained here is connected to having discovered the papyri, I’ve been—in a sense—eliminated as a witness. Placidia intervened and insisted that I be kept here, rather than in an underground cell, but the person responsible couldn’t have foreseen that she would do that.”
“That was fortunate—anything could have happened in that cell. You’re safer in this room.”
“But what about you? You were also a witness.”
“Childibert and Brisios are at the house,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“I want Brisios to come with you when you visit.”
“It’s only around the corner—”
“In Hades’s name, woman, listen to me! Do what I say until I can be with you.”
Arcadia shrugged agreement. “All right, Getorius. Perhaps Senator Maximin would let us get away to his villa for a few days after the fine.” New Year. You might look in on his mother when you’re released, even though he seemed pleased when he saw the way I treated her.”
“Maximin actually remained in the room with you? He only watched me once while I treated Agatha.” Getorius was spooning up lentils, when he abruptly paused to exclaim, “Zeus’ beard, that could explain it!”
“Explain what?”
“Publius Maximin. On the last occasion that I went to see Agatha, he stayed in the room. I didn’t think anything of it, but the senator could easily have taken the scalpel from my case.”
“But that makes him part of all this. What would he gain from it?”
“Arcadia, you’re the one who saw the cockerel ring. That abbot, or whoever is at the head of the conspiracy, needed accomplices. During the time Behan was in Ravenna, the monk must have recruited Maximin.”
“I don’t know. You thought I’d never come back from visiting his farm.”
“Cara, I just was making sure you were careful while you were there.”
“I can’t believe the senator would be involved in this kind of horrendous conspiracy.”
“The man’s experienced the headiness of having power, and he has none right now,” Getorius reasoned. “It must rankle him to be forced to appeal to a person like Valentinian for Patrician status.”
“But Placidia suspects that Flavius Aetius is involved.”
“Maximin would need his army. And it wouldn’t be the first time a commander has betrayed his emperor.”
“Both in it together?” Arcadia was silent for a moment, then said, “If you’re right, neither one of us will survive. Even Galla Placidia is in danger.”
“This is December twenty-third. There’s little more than a day to stop them, and I’m still confined in here.”
“Getorius, I…do you remember when we were falling in love?” Arcadia reached into the basket to pull out a slim volume she had packed with the food. “We read Ovid’s Ars Amatoria together and laughed over the part where…here, I’ve brought it.”
“With all this happening, woman, we’re going to read love poetry?”
“Just this part. It begins, ‘If you are wise, cheat women only and avoid trouble. Keep faith except for this deceitfulness.’”
Getorius chuckled in remembrance. “You almost threw the book at me when I showed it to you.”
“It’s the next verse. You read it.”
Getorius took the book and found the place. “Deceive the deceivers, they are mostly a profane sort. Let them fall into the snare they have
