"I see you're used to handling fire!"
Despite my pang of disquiet, the brazier was for neither witchcraft nor anything religious; it was to heat her curling iron. So there I was, illegally inside the House of the Vestals, watching a very much off-duty Virgin while she dipped her comb in a basin of water and restyled her hair.
"Yes, we are allowed relaxation," she commented, at my bemused look. Her hands twisted the hot iron with great competence. "Our free time is entirely our own. Nobody bothers us, so long as the Chief Vestal never notices any loud music or perfumes that have disturbingly erotic Parthian undernotes."
"So the simple, celibate life doesn't bother you?"
Her eyes, which were midbrown and well set, glinted. "It has a few disadvantages."
"Not many visitors?"
"You're my first, Falco!"
"Lucky me. My friend Petronius reckons all the Virgins must be lesbians."
"Some may be." Not this one, I decided.
"Or that really they have secret lovers scampering in and out all night."
"Some may do." She gave little away, but added some more suggestions: "Or that we are all crabby, dried-up frights who want to dispossess men-or that simplicity of life means black teeth and body smells?"
"Yes, I believe those are other popular theories."
"From time to time I expect they all apply. Why generalize? Any group of six people would contain all kinds of characters. What do you think, Falco?"
I thought a lot that I was not prepared to say. For instance, I liked the way she had made cheeky little ringlets to hang in front of her ears. "You sound as if you were born on the wrong side of the Sacred Way. A token plebeian, right?"
Constantia shrugged. Her ringlets bobbed. Her accent was in fact perfectly neutral, but of course she would have been trained to speak acceptably. It was her outspoken, sprightly attitude that had given her away. "You feel I don't fit in?" I nodded. "Wrong, Falco. This is my career, and I am proud of it. Oh, I never expect to become Chief Vestal, but you won't find me skimping the duties or dishonoring the gods."
"No doubt your salt cakes are impeccable."
"Exactly. I am planning to open a cake stall after I retire."
"I would have thought you would take the imperial dowry and get married?"
Constantia looked at me sideways as she twirled a lock of hair free from the iron. "That will depend on what is on offer at the time!"
I thought not many men would feel up to taking on this lively character.
***
Applying her curler to the heat again, she wiped off smuts on a soft cloth, then wound a new strand of hair around the metal bar.
"If you have the iron too hot, all your hair will snap off." She gave me a look that made me retract. "Well, so I have been told. I assume you have to be braided up again demurely tomorrow to attend the lottery?" Constantia paused, realizing that this was what I had come to talk about. I handed her the mirror so she could check the progress of her coiffure. "I have been searching for the lost child."
"But you failed to find her." It was a blank statement, one that put me in my place.
"Ah, you know? I suppose as the virginal liaison point, you have been receiving hourly reports?"
"As well as almost hourly demands to discuss the issue with your girlfriend." That came out as somewhat critical.
"Helena Justina is extremely persistent."
"Now she has sent you?"
"No, she knows nothing about it. I intrude on women on my own account."
"She will find out."
"I shall tell her myself."
"Will she be annoyed?"
"Why? She knows how much I desperately need to speak to you about Gaia Laelia. I climbed in the window after reasonable requests failed, not because I was looking for a cheap thrill."
"More expensive than cheap, if you are caught, Falco."
"Don't I know it! So why is there this obsessive secrecy about the high-flown Laelii?"
Constantia put aside her feminine dib-dabs and leaned towards me earnestly. Her gown was modestly pinned, yet I felt an odd quirk of alarm just at seeing a Virgin's pale bare neck above the gown's loose dark yellow folds. "Never mind why, Falco."
I was annoyed. She ignored it. "All right; what about Gaia? I know she talked to you about becoming a Virgin-first at the reception for the Queen of Judaea. Her mother tells me she was brought back afterwards too?"
"Yes."
"So what worries did she want to talk about?"
"Only being a Virgin. I thought the dear little thing had a wonderful enquiring attitude. A most promising candidate. She consulted me about all the rituals. Naturally, I was as helpful as I could be."
"I am consulting you now," I growled. "And you are not helping me."
"Oh dear!" Her pout would not have disgraced any slightly tight tavern waitress flirting with a customer.
I restrained my annoyance. "Gaia told me somebody in her family wanted to kill her. Jupiter, what in Olympus will it take to make anyone in authority listen and regard this as serious?"
"Nothing. She told me the same. I thought it was the truth."
I leaned back on the couch, finally feeling that some mad nightmare might be ending. I breathed slowly. My troubles were not over, however. The Vestal in whose private apartment I was dallying reached over and stroked my forehead, then offered me wine.
She had a Syrian glass jug on a chased tray. She cannot have known I was coming to see her; it must be her regular nightcap. There was only one goblet. We agreed it would be unwise to send out for another one.
"What do you think?" she asked courteously as I sipped. "I don't know the name, but I am promised it is good."
"Very nice." I did not recognize its vintage either, but whatever the grape and origin, it was more than acceptable. I would like to have tried it on Petro. In fact, I would have liked to show Petro this whole situation and watch him shoot off into a catalogue of howling incredulity. "A gift from an admirer?"
"Honoring Vesta."
"Very devout. So what did Gaia say?" I refused to be sidetracked. "Which of them has threatened her?"
"Nobody will harm her. She is in no danger, Falco."
"You know something!"
"I know she is now safe from anyone in her family. But I cannot say where she is. Nobody knows that. You have to discover the answer."
"Why should I?" My temper was up now. "I have already spent all day on this. I am exhausted, and baffled by the hindrances put in my way. What is the point? If I knew what Gaia was afraid of, I could find her more easily."
"I don't think so, Falco."
The girl continued plying me with wine, but I knew that old trick. Perhaps she sensed it, because she took the goblet from me and had a drink herself.
I grabbed the goblet back, then set it down smartly on its tray. "Concentrate! I thought Gaia might have been troubled by the evil ways of nasty 'Uncle Tiberius.' Did she mention him?"
"Oh, he was a filthy article," Constantia admitted immediately.
"Then whyever would a retired Vestal like Terentia Paulla marry him?"
"Because he was rich?"
"A rich bastard."
"He fooled Terentia into believing that he wanted her."
"He was rich and she was foolish?"
"You are not going to give up?"
"No."
"All right." She had decided to give me something. It might not be everything (few women do that on a first acquaintance, after all; least of all sworn virgins). "Terentia married him," said Constantia, "because he told her she was the one he had always really wanted. She was thrilled. She took him out of misplaced flattery, and a little spite perhaps-because he was the lover that her married sister had flaunted at her for years."
XLIV
I folded my arms and stretched out my boots, crossing my ankles. I was now feeling desperately tired.
What would this have meant to Gaia? Yet more explosions in the family, that was certain. I
now understood all too clearly what had been meant when I was told that "Uncle Tiberius" had been an "old friend" of the family.
I knew that Terentia Paulla had retired as a Vestal about eighteen months ago. She had been married for just under a year. This was June. Her sister, the ex-Flamen had said, had died in July last year. "The Vestal's wedding and the Flaminica's death must have virtually coincided."
"Probably so." I sensed that Constantia now wanted to close up. Her bright eyes were watching me. I could live with that, if she liked the novelty of gazing at a handsome dog with tousled curls and an endearing grin-not to mention, of course, the faintly etched brow crease that hinted at my thoughtful, sensitive side.
She made a decent picture herself. She might look severe when she was attired in her religious robes, but she had regular features lit with obvious intelligence; off duty, she was a very pretty girl. As a centurion's daughter or a tribune's wife, she would have been the toast of any legion, and an inevitable source of problems among the men.
Thankfully, pretty girls present no problem to me.
"The Flaminica-Statilia Paulla, wasn't that her name?-died very suddenly, I heard. Do you happen to know what caused it?"
"Apart from fury at her sister's announcement of her marriage?" Constantia bit her lip. "I do know, actually. She had a tumor. She had confided in the Chief Vestal-probably not just to share the tragedy, but to annoy her sister, who was not being made a confidante."
"Had everyone in the family known about the Flaminica's long affair?"
"I should think so. Not little Gaia."
"Does that mean even the Flamen knew?"
"It had always been accepted tacitly. Theirs was a marriage in form only."
"He must have had feelings on the subject. When he talked about his wife was the only time I saw any signs of animation."
"That," said Constantia coldly, "is simply because he blames his wife for dying and robbing him of his position."
"You are very hard." She made no reply. "Was Gaia fond of her grandmother?"
"You mean, did the Flaminica's death upset her? I think the child was closer to Terentia. Terentia has made a big pet of Gaia. I gather she has even talked of making Gaia her heir."
"What about Laelius Scaurus? I thought he was Terentia's favorite?"
"Yes," said Constantia, playing with one of her ringlets. "But he remains in his father's paternal control, so he cannot hold property."
"What's the difference?"
"None, as things are. Gaia is also in the guardianship of her grandfather. But if Gaia were to become a Vestal Virgin, once she came to the House of the Vestals she-unlike her other relations-would be entitled to her own property. She could also make a will."
This was intriguing. "So then if Terentia died, and Gaia inherited, the loot would belong to her immediately and might eventually be left by her outside the family-whereas if Gaia fails to become a Vestal, anything Terentia leaves either to Gaia or her father will be controlled by Laelius Numentinus from the moment of probate."
"While he lives. Then the position of head of household moves down to Laelius Scaurus."
"Whom even his loving aunt may regard as a rather unworldly fellow to be put in control… But if he upsets his father too much, Numentinus could disinherit him."
"You seem very excited by this, Falco."
I gave Constantia my best grin. "Well, it might explain many things. In their huge mansion stuffed full of slaves on the Aventine, the Laelii consider themselves to be living in genteel poverty."
Constantia, a girl with a nature that I could take to, raised her eyebrows. "Poor them!" she said scathingly.
"I am wondering now," I pondered, "whether somebody in her family has hidden Gaia away deliberately, to ensure she should not be selected in the lottery and made financially independent."
"Drastic."
"Money makes people lose their sense of reality."
"Other things can do that."
"Like what?" I asked-and this time when I gave her a grin, it was rather nicely returned.
"Love," suggested Constantia. "Or what passes for it in bed."
***
Who knows what line of questioning might have developed next? Instead, just at that moment we heard steps tramping the corridor outside.
I leaped up and jumped over to the window on light feet. Constantia laid a finger on her lips. The footsteps went by, apparently only one person; Constantia, who seemed unfazed, may have recognized the heavy tread of one of her fellow inmates. Vestals tend to be solid women; to compensate for their lonely lives, they must be well fed.
The experience reminded me I should not linger. On her feet too, Constantia herself now whispered conspiratorially. "I have enjoyed talking to you, but you ought to go. There is always a chance one of the others will come along for a hot toddy, or to borrow a novel and share a session of girl talk."
"Very nice! Thanks for your help, anyway. I'll be off down my ladder."
She was scornful. "Don't be ridiculous. Nasty splintery things-" However did she know that? "Men should not go clambering around at high level after drinking wine. Come with me, and I can let you out properly through the gate."
When she opened her door onto the corridor, there was nobody about, and it did seem sensible to walk softly in the shadows rather than climbing about like a thief. Rolling on the balls of my feet for quietness, I let myself be led through dimly lit corridors to ground level. There I went back to the ladder that was still at Constantia's window, and tidied it away on its side under the colonnade as if the workmen had just lazily left it there.
We crept down the dark cloister towards the exit gate. Suddenly there was a noise, and a door opened. I never saw who came out. Constantia grabbed my hand. Then, with great presence of mind, she dragged me to a litter that was standing unattended in the vestibule; we both piled inside, pulling the curtains down.
I do realize that crude people will now be speculating wildly about what a keen Roman male might get up to while squashed very tightly in a litter with a Vestal Virgin. Just calm down. She had a religious calling; I was faithfully devoted to my girlfriend; and anyway, the need for silence overrode everything else.
XLV
No; Honest, Praetor. I never laid a finger on the girl.
XLVI
Mind you, I hope nobody ever asks me what that rude madam did to me!
XLVII
Jupiter. She was a disgrace.
XLVIII
STIFLING MY SHOCK and readjusting my dignity, I looked out to check if the coast was clear.
I scrambled free, then turned back to examine the litter we had been hiding in. It was a dull black color, with silver handholds on the poles and long charcoal-gray curtains. I had seen it before, when I first approached the house of the Laelii.
"I know the Vestals possess the right to ride in a carriage, but is this yours too, for when you travel incognito to buy knickknacks and fashionwear?"
"No, it belongs to a visitor."
"Now who would that be?"
"An ex-Vestal. Some stay here on retirement, well cared for in the tranquillity of the home they know. Others who decide to leave are always welcome back."
Her grapple with me had left her unruffled, but she knew we were in danger here. She was trying to move me on. I stood my ground. "Your visitor is a complete stranger to tranquillity! I know she left the Laelius house earlier today. This is Terentia Paulla, returning to the sisterhood?"
"The Chief Virgin is comforting her; she is desolate about the disappearance of little Gaia."
"Is that so? I need to speak to her."
"Do not intrude, Falco."
"Don't balk me! Will I have to climb in through her window too?"
"No. You are going to walk out of the gate now."
I knew I had pushed it far enough tonight. I let Constantia lead me to the door in the wall that led to the Temple of Vesta enclosure. My hair-raising adventure was reaching its end, quite successfully. Or so I
thought, until my companion unlocked the gate for me.
Outside, near the temple, a group of lictors and other heavy types were clustered around a young man; I could see it was Aelianus. They must have only just apprehended him. He was responding with spirit: "Officers!" he cried in his reassuringly patrician tones. "I am so glad I ran into you. I just noticed that there is a ladder leaning up against the Vestals' House. It may have something to do with a rough-looking fellow I just saw running off. He went that way…" He gestured towards the Regia.
"Show us!" The watch guards were not completely convinced. More practical than I had hoped, they had the sense to keep him with them while they went to investigate. Still, he was a senator's son and had every right to stroll around Rome at night looking for a rumpus he could join in.
Constantia had pulled the door closed hastily before we were seen by anyone. Again, she used that word a Virgin should not know. Pulling a face, she gestured for me to follow her, whispering that she would show me the Via Nova exit.
"Is it locked?"
"I hope not."
"Dear gods!" I was deeply apprehensive. I could cope with the mere fact of gliding about a residence that was strictly closed to men. I did not want to find myself in another dark corner where Constantia might jump me.
Somebody else was coming. Even Constantia was losing her nerve. I asked her for directions, then instructed her to hasten back to the security of her own suite. "If I get arrested, you never saw me, and you know nothing about me."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Falco!" She was incorrigible.
"That's right. Be sensible."
I had some trouble with the directions. Nobody is perfect. Constantia had seemed a thoroughly delightful character, no doubt absolutely packed with talent. She could probably have driven a chariot around and around the Circus, but as a navigator she was useless; she could not distinguish between left and right. Still, eventually I found the door she had described. Unfortunately, it was locked.
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