'You would never have done such a thing, Marcus Crassus. Had you killed me immediately after I made such a public accusation, you would only have planted a seed of doubt in everyone who was there.'
'You think so, Gordianus?'
I shrugged. 'Besides, the point is hypothetical. I never made such an accusation.'
'And you never intended to?'
I sipped the Falernian. 'It seems useless to dwell on such a question, since what you describe never occurred and the true murderer was identified — just in time to avoid a terrible miscarriage of justice, I might add, though I know you find that to be a minor point.'
Crassus made a low noise in his throat, rather like a growl. It had not been easy for him to cancel the slaughter after arousing the curiosity and whetting the blood lust of the crowd. Even after the revelation of Fabius's guilt, he might have gone on with the massacre had it not been for the intervention of Gelina. Meek, mild Gelina had at last put her foot down. Armed with the truth, she was transformed before our eyes. Her jaw set, her eyes hard and glittering like glass, she had demanded that Crassus cancel his farce. Mummius, blustering and outraged, had joined her. Assaulted from both sides, Crassus had acquiesced. He had ordered his guards to escort Fabius and himself back to the villa, currty charged Mummius with closing the games, and then had made an abrupt and unceremonious exit.
'Did you stay for the end of the games?' Crassus asked.
'No. I left only moments after you did.' Why bother to explain that Alexandros and I had carried Eco back to the villa, fearing for his life? Crassus had hardly noticed Eco's collapse, and probably did not even remember it.
'Mummius tells me that all went smoothly, but he's lying, of course. I must be the laughing stock of the whole Cup tonight.'
'I seriously doubt that, Marcus Crassus. You are not the sort of man at whom people would ever dare to laugh, even behind your back.'
'Still, to have the slaves rounded up and herded from the ring as unceremoniously as they were herded into it, with no explanation — I could hear the murmurs of disappointment and confusion even from outside the arena walls. For a climax, Mummius tells me he hastily assembled all the surviving gladiators and forced them to fight again in simultaneous matches; not exactly an original idea, was it? Imagine what a farce that became, with the gladiators already weary and some of them wounded, hacking away at each other like clumsy amateurs. When I pressed him about it, Mummius admitted that the lower tiers quickly emptied out. The connoisseurs know a bad spectacle when they see it, and the status seekers saw no point in remaining when I was no longer there to smile back at them.'
We sat in silence for a moment, sipping the wine.
'Where is Faustus Fabius tonight?' I asked.
'Here in the villa, as before. Except that tonight I've placed guards outside his room and had him stripped of any weapons, poisons, or potions, lest he do some harm to himself before I decide what I shall do with him.'
'Will you bring charges against him? Will there be a trial in Rome?'
Crassus again put on the face of a disappointed tutor. 'What? Go to so much trouble on account of the murder of a nobody like Lucius? Alienate the Fabii, expose an unspeakable scandal in which my own cousin was involved, embarrass myself in the process — they were using my ship and my resources to carry out their schemes, after all — do all this on the eve of the great crisis, when I stand ready to take the command against Spartacus and begin my campaign for the consulship next year? No, Gordianus, there will be no public accusation; there will be no trial.'
'Then Faustus Fabius will go unpunished?'
'I never said that. There are many ways for a man to die during wartime, Gordianus. Even a high-ranking officer can be struck down by a spear accidentally cast from behind him, or receive a fatal blow which cannot afterwards be accounted for. And I never said that, either.'
'Did he confess everything to you?'
'Everything. It was just as you thought; he and Lucius had hatched their smuggling scheme together during my visit to Baiae last spring. Faustus comes from a very old, very distinguished patrician family. His branch of the Fabii retain a vestige of their old prestige, but they lost their fortune long ago. Such a man can become very bitter, especially when he serves under another man of a lower social rank whose wealth and power tar exceed his own and always will. Still, to have betrayed Rome for the sake ofhis own aggrandizement, to have sacrificed the honour of the Fabii, to have given succour to an army of murderous slaves — these crimes are unforgivable and beneath contempt.'
Crassus sighed. 'The crimes of my cousin Lucius are even more painful to me. He was a weak man, too weak to make his own way in the world, neither wise enough nor patient enough to trust my generosity. I consider it a personal affront that he should have used my own organization and embezzled my own funds to engage in such a disgusting criminal enterprise. I always gave him more than he deserved, and this was how he repaid me! I'm only sorry that he died as quickly and painlessly as he did; he deserved an even crueller death.'
'Why did Fabius kill him?'
'My visit was unscheduled and unexpected. Lucius had only a few days' notice before my arrival. He panicked — there are dozens of improprieties in his records; there were swords and spears hidden down in the boathouse, awaiting shipment. The night before we arrived, Fabius stole away from the camp at Lake Lucrinus after dark and came to confer with Lucius. To confuse anyone who might see him, and without my knowledge, he took my own cloak before he rode off. It was suitably dark; all the better to hide himself. He didn't foresee the use to which he would put it, and the fact that he would have to dispose of it altogether. Once it was ruined with blood he could neither leave it at the scene of the crime nor return it to me. He tore the seal from the cloak and threw both into the bay. The seal, being heavier, must have reached the water; the cloak caught on the branches.
'I missed my cloak the next day and wondered where it had gone; I mentioned it to Fabius himself and he never batted an eyelash! Why do you think I've been wearing this old chlamys of Lucius's every night? Not to conform to the Baian taste for Greek fashion, but because the cloak I brought from Rome was missing.'
I stared at him, suddenly suspicious. 'But on the same night that I suggested Lucius had been killed here in the library, you asked me where the blood had gone; do you remember, Marcus Crassus?'
'Perfectly well.'
'And I told you then that a bloodstained cloak had been found, discarded by the road. You must have suspected that it was your cloak!'
He shook his head. 'No, Gordianus. You told me that you had discovered a cloth, not a cloak. You never called it a cloak; I remember your words exactly.' He breathed through his nostrils, sipped his wine, and looked at me shrewdly. 'Very well, I admit that at that moment I experienced an odd quiver of apprehension; perhaps a part of me glimpsed a path that might lead to the truth. Perhaps a passing god whispered in my ear that this cloth might be my missing cloak, in which case there was far more to Lucius's murder than I had previously suspected. But one hears such vague whisperings all the time, no? And even the wisest man never knows if the gods whisper true wisdom in his ear or cruel folly.'
'Still, why did Fabius murder Lucius?'
'Fabius left Rome prepared to kill Lucius, but the actual murder was spontaneous. Lucius became hysterical. What if I found him out, as I surely would if I made more than a cursory inspection of his records or located the captain of the Fury? He saw his own destruction loom before him. Fabius urged him to keep a cool head; together, he argued, they could keep me busy with other matters and deflect me from ever suspecting their enterprise. Who knows? They might have succeeded. But Lucius lost his wits, began to weep and insisted that a full confession was their only recourse. He intended to tell me everything and throw himself on my mercy, exposing Fabius along with himself. Fabius reached for the statue and silenced his babbling for ever.
'It was a stroke of genius to incriminate the slaves, don't you think? That kind of quick-witted, cold-blooded reaction is exactly the quality I need in my officers. What a waste! When Zeno and Alexandros walked in on him, all the better — Fabius scared them off' and sent them fleeing into the night to become his scapegoats. He was lucky that Zeno died, because Zeno almost certainly had recognized him. But Alexandros had never seen him before, and so couldn't tell Iaia and Olympias whom he had seen.'
'That was why Fabius left the name Spartacus unfinished — because the slaves disturbed him?'
'No. He had already cleaned the visible blood in the library and wiped it from the floor of the hallway, but he had not yet gathered up the incriminating scrolls that Lucius had been poring over. Some of them had been open on
