“But without Aurora, Gaius and Livia could be happily married. Instead, because of her, my daughter has been humiliated and has gone off to her estate. She won’t even let me come with her. Marriage is about loyalty and respect, Plinia. Gaius is not showing either of those qualities to my daughter.”
“Livia has done nothing to inspire them in Gaius.”
“And I suppose that slave girl has?”
Plinia sighed heavily. “You don’t understand. Gaius and Aurora have known one another since they were seven. The poor girl was so frightened when she came into our house. She spoke no Latin and only a smattering of Greek. When Gaius befriended her, she attached herself to him like a lost puppy. We even found them sleeping together once—in all innocence, of course.”
The memory of that night flooded over me. I was eight years old. My mother and I had been slaves in the elder Pliny’s house for about a year. We were at Laurentum when a tremendous storm broke out during the night. Growing up on the edge of the African desert, I had never seen or heard anything like it. I was terrified, but I couldn’t go to my mother because she was with Gaius’ uncle. I had been told never to disturb them. In spite of that, I tried the handle on their door and found it locked. So I ran to Gaius’ room. I just wanted to lie down on the floor beside his bed, but he woke up and took me into the bed with him. When he put his arms around me, for the first time since my father sold me, I felt safe.
Plinia’s voice caught my attention again. “Whatever feelings they have for one another are natural and deep.”
“You sound like you approve.” Pompeia’s voice crackled with anger.
“I want my son to be happy.”
“Don’t you want him to give you a grandson? Would you accept some little bastard slave child?”
I didn’t have to be able to see her to visualize the sneer on her lips.
“That’s putting it harshly—”
“My dear cousin, if you don’t get her out of here, that’s exactly what Gaius is going to present you with.”
“I think Gaius and Aurora could produce a beautiful baby, but, you’re right, it could never be my grandchild.”
I lay back down and gave in to the tears I had been fighting.
* * *
“This might be what we’re looking for,” Tacitus said, pulling a stone out of its place in the wall. He held up the oil lamp to peer inside the hole behind it. “There’s a bag of some sort in there.”
He stepped aside and I reached in to retrieve a large leather bag. Alongside it lay a pair of sandals.
“Those are odd,” Tacitus said as I pulled them out.
The sandals had soles as thick as my fingers were long. “They’re actor’s sandals,” I said. “They give the actor height to make him seem more in proportion to his mask and costume.”
“They would make a man of average height seem tall, especially if he was wearing a long robe that covered him down to the floor.”
“I suspect that’s what we’ll find in here.” I opened the leather bag and withdrew a white robe, shaking it out to hang straight. I held it up to myself.
“It’s too long,” Tacitus said, “but with the sandals it would fit you just about right.”
“And, in dim light, this costume could make you appear to float rather than walk, as Doricles said. So we’re looking for someone about my height, rather than a tall man.” I put the robe back in the bag and turned toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to put those things back?” Tacitus asked.
“I think it’s time to go on the offensive. If we take these things, the person who’s behind all this will be thrown off balance.”
“But he’s lost Lutulla and his ability to hire men anonymously. Won’t he have to stop?”
“I don’t want him to stop, not until I can make him pay for what he’s done.”
XV
I never admire another man’s fortune so much that I become dissatisfied with my own.
—Cicero
As soon as we got back to my villa, I went to see how Aurora was doing. Tacitus pulled up a stool and sat in front of the door like a guard. Julia was keeping Aurora company. She gave me a peck on the cheek and left us alone. Aurora and I embraced and said nothing for a moment.
“How are you feeling?” I finally asked.
“I’m much better. Julia is being so cautious about me, but I’m ready to get up and move around. I just hope I can stay out of Pompeia’s sight.”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt for you to stay in bed another day. I can say that I’ve ordered you to do so.”
“Yes, my lord.” She smiled playfully and took my hand. “Anything you say, my lord. Can you at least tell me what you’ve done the last couple of days?”
Her eyes widened in horror as I told her about pulling Lutulla out of the fire and then losing her to a killer under our very noses. She clutched me to her again.
“I could have lost you, Gaius.”
“And I could have lost you. But we can’t dwell on it. We’re both here, and we’re both safe. That’s all that matters.”
“But what does Lutulla have to do with the body in the wall? Why kidnap Livia? It doesn’t make any sense, Gaius.”
“You’re right. I thought Pompeius might be involved, as odd as that sounds. But the costume we found in the temple fits someone my size, and Pompeius is taller. This Lucius who was the steward, I guess we’d say, at the old villa, could be involved. But who is he? Where is he? And the man who calls himself Vulpes. He seems—”
“The Fox?” Aurora sat up. “People call that old villa the Fox’s Den.”
“I thought that was because of the wild animals who’ve taken over the place, but perhaps not. Did Fulvius tell you anything else about this Lucius?”
“He carved things,” Aurora reminded me. “Toys, and probably the masks that the men used in the villa. And he had a couple of broken teeth.”
“By the gods! Doricles said that Vulpes had several broken teeth.”
“But who is he?”
“Our problem is that we’ve been looking in so many directions. We haven’t put things together. What’s connecting all of this information?”
“The connection is the skull mask,” Aurora said.
“Exactly. And that takes us back to that old villa and the boys like Fulvius. But I just don’t see how it all fits together.” I kissed her on the forehead. “Now, you get some rest. I’m going to bathe and ponder. I’ll have dinner brought in here for us in a while.”
When I emerged from Aurora’s room I found Pompeia waiting outside. Tacitus had apparently kept her from simply opening the door and barging right in.
“I knew I would find you here,” she said.
“A servant of mine was injured. I wanted to see how she was feeling. Wouldn’t you do the same for one of your servants?”
Instead of answering the question, she said, “I want to leave this place, immediately.”
You have expressed my fondest wish, I thought. “Where will you go?”
“To my estate at Narnia.”
“I don’t think you should do that. I can’t protect you in Narnia.”
She drew her cloak around her. “You haven’t been able to protect me or my family here. My daughter’s been kidnapped and frightened out of her wits. One of my servants is dead and another has been mutilated.”
I hung my head. “I can’t deny any of that, and I’m sorry.”
“If you’ll pardon my intrusion,” Tacitus said, “for the lady Pompeia to go to Narnia might be a good idea. As I recall the layout of the estate from my one visit there, it could be more easily fortified.”
“Your father-in-law has some of his retired veterans living near there, doesn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you think he could ask a few of them to stand guard around the estate until we get to the bottom of this business?”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to. It’ll keep them sharp. Should your mother go, too
?”
“That would be an excellent idea. She’d be lonely here without any women for company.”
“We’ll need transportation,” Pompeia said. “Livia took all of our wagons.”
Of course she did, I thought. “Don’t worry. I can provide transportation.” I would carry you on my back if it would get you out of here.
“When can we leave?” Pompeia asked.
“Let’s send a messenger to Agricola right now and ask for his soldiers,” I said. “That will give them time to get in position. Then you can leave tomorrow morning. May I have your promise that you will stay at Narnia until I can assure you that the danger has passed?”
“Gaius, I think my daughters are right. No one around you will ever be entirely out of danger.”
* * *
The next morning I went out to the stable to see Pompeia, my mother and Naomi, and the other women servants off on their trip to Narnia. Aurora stayed out of sight, but Phineas came to say good-bye to his mother and brought Xenobia along. The girl was convivial, but Naomi’s displeasure at her son’s attachment to a non-Jew was obvious. She and my mother would probably have a lot to talk about during their journey.
As Barbatus was harnessing the horses, I said over his shoulder, “You told me about the beating you gave Marcus Delius years ago. Do you remember if you knocked out any of his teeth?”
“Why, yes, my lord,” he said proudly. “Two of ’em.”
Teeth! That had to be the link! Vulpes was missing teeth. The unknown Lucius from the old villa was missing teeth. And Marcus Delius was missing teeth. Even the skull in my wall was missing a tooth. I hurried back to my room and got a bag. When I looked into Aurora’s room, she was barely awake. I kissed her on the cheek and she opened her eyes wider.
“I’ll be gone for a while,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“I want to pay one more visit to that deserted villa. That place is as important in understanding what’s going on as the body in the wall itself.”
Aurora sat up. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I don’t think you’re ready to ride yet. Just rest. I’ll be back later today.”
I rushed back to the stable and told Barbatus, “I need a horse, too.”
“Certainly, my lord. May I ask where you’ll be going?”
“I’m going to ride along with the women as far as Pompeius’ estate. I want to ask him a few more questions.”
“Will Cornelius Tacitus or…anyone else be going with you, my lord?”
“Not today. Tacitus and his wife were going to sail on the lake, I believe. I’ll have some of Pompeius’ servants ride back with me.” As we pulled out of the stable yard I added, “Let Tacitus and…anyone else know where I’m going.”
“I will, my lord.”
I had to keep my pace down to that of the wagons. The whole caravan made a brief stop at Pompeius’ house. Tertia informed me that her father wasn’t there.
“We haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon,” she said. “He left the house then.”
Somehow I didn’t believe this was going to be an assignation with some woman. “Did he take anyone with him?”
“No, and he wouldn’t say where he was going, just that he had to meet someone, ‘to settle this business once and for all, like I should have done years ago.’”
“Were those his exact words?”
Tertia nodded. “I’ve never seen him look so angry and so determined. Could you find him, Gaius? He’s not strong, and I’m afraid—”
I touched her arm to reassure her. “I believe I know where he’s going. If anyone comes looking for me, just tell them the Fox’s Den. They’ll know what you mean.”
I said a hasty good-bye to the women, mounted my horse, and set off down the road to the turn-off that would take me to the deserted villa.
* * *
When I came to the rise that overlooked the villa, I saw two horses tied up there. One I recognized from the decorations on its bridle as Pompeius’. I left my horse tied to a tree on the rise and crept up to the villa, carrying my bag. When I passed the wall surrounding the villa, I heard someone yelling.
“Where is it, old man? What have you done with it?”
I walked through the atrium and stopped at the opening leading into the garden. A man was standing over Pompeius, who was tied up, hands and feet. His captor had a sword at the older man’s throat.
“I don’t know where it is,” Pompeius said, on the verge of tears. “Why does it matter? It’s all over with now.”
“That was the last mask. It has my mark on it. Somebody can figure out that I made it.”
I stepped into view, holding up the skull mask. “Is this what you’re looking for, Marcus Delius?”
Delius whirled at the sound of my voice. “By the gods! You!”
“Yes, cousin Delius, it’s me.”
“Cousin?” Delius lowered his sword and took a step toward me. “It’s true, then. Old Gaius Plinius was my father.”
“Yes. His sister is my mother. And he adopted me, so in one sense we’re not only cousins but brothers, Vulpes.”
Delius smirked. “So you know everything. Well, that’s just fine. Maybe we should postpone the family gathering until a later time, though, and a less revolting place.” He looked around the atrium.
“You spent time here as Lucius, didn’t you? You took care of the boys.”
Delius raised his sword and shook it at me. “Yes, I took care of them. I never…did what he and the rest of them did.” He pointed the sword toward Pompeius and pushed him closer to the pool in the center of the garden.
“I think I understand most of what happened,” I said. “What I don’t know is how much my father was involved.” I took a step toward Pompeius, but Delius held out his sword to block my progress. “What was my father’s part, Pompeius?”
The old man squirmed himself around so he could see me. The slimy substance that had grown all over the villa had coated his tunic and his hair. “He supplied money. Livius, Romatius, and I were the ones actively involved.”
“Did he know what you were doing with the money?”
Pompeius shook his head. “We needed capital to get started. That’s where your father came in.”
“I cannot believe my father would ever have consented to be a part of such a vile scheme.”
“He didn’t know exactly what we were doing. We told him we were selling slaves. Your father said he preferred not to know. And he was so involved with Lutulla and building that taberna that he had little interest in anything else. As long as he got his share of the profits, he was content.”
“Whatever gave you the idea of setting up a place like this?”
“Livius owned this villa. He and Romatius and I would sometimes bring a few boys here. We realized that other men might enjoy having a secluded spot such as this.”
“Wait, are you telling me you set up some sort of lupinar for pederasts?”
“I suppose you could describe it in such crass terms. There are a lot of men these days who appreciate the beauty of a young boy. Some men always have. The emperor Tiberius had children at his villa on Capri. The story goes that he called them his ‘little fishes.’ They would join him in the bath and swim between his legs, nibbling on what they found there. And, of course, I can cite Socrates and Plato to testify to their love for boys. But keeping a young boy in your household is inconvenient and expensive. It causes tension with your wife. And young boys have the unfortunate habit of growing up. So the four of us formed what we called the collegium calvariae, the company of the skull. We thought we were rather clever to come up with that.”
“Why the skull?”
“That was your father’s idea. His daughter by Lutulla—oh, dear, do you know about her?”
“Yes.”
Pompeius struggled against the ropes. “Well, his daughter by Lutulla had recently died, and I think he was in a macabre mood.”
“Do you swear that t
he money was his only contribution?”
“He also had property on this side of the lake where Livius could land his boat and move the boys to this villa. That was his only contribution. On my honor, Gaius, although I guess that isn’t worth much, is it?”
I shook my head. “You bought boys from the other side of the lake, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Livius suggested that we could supply the boys cheaply by buying them from people over there. Many of those children die at such a young age. We would actually be doing them a favor by taking them out of their wretched conditions, providing good food and better living quarters than they could ever dream of.” He sounded as though he had convinced himself that he was speaking the truth.
“But they grow up, don’t they? What happened to them then?”
“Well, then Livius would take them back across the lake and set them free.”
I snorted. “Free to tell everyone where they had been? What they’d been doing?”
I could see that, until this moment, Pompeius had never let himself doubt what Livius told him. “Are you suggesting that the boys—”
“I’m reminding you that the lake is very deep.”
“Oh, dear gods!”
“How many boys did Livius ‘return’?”
“Only eight or ten.”
Delius kicked Pompeius. “Only eight or ten? Do you think that excuses you?”
“I didn’t think we were hurting anyone. The operation ran for only a few years. Not enough time for many of the boys to mature.”
“My friend Cornelius Tacitus has talked to a man who was here as a boy. He said no one on the other side of the lake knows of any boys who actually returned, except in that one case.”
Pompeius began to cry. Delius kicked him again, nudging him closer to the pool.
I turned to Delius. “You were the man who took those boys across the lake, weren’t you, when Nero’s death threw everyone into a panic?”
He nodded, his sword now hanging limp at his side.
“I know something of your origins—including how you made this signet ring.” I raised my hand. “How did you get involved in this unspeakably vile business?”
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