‘Behold!’ Nubia produced two wooden buckets and handed one to Flavia. ‘They are mixing the water in these.’
‘Clever Nubia,’ murmured Flavia.
Nubia used the dolphin tap to fill her wooden bucket with hot water. She added three scoops of the cold metallic water from Flavia’s shell, then tipped the deliciously warm mixture over her head. The water cascaded over her body, splashing the bench and the blue mosaic floor. The sheet of rippling water made the mosaic sea creatures seem to quiver.
‘Behold!’ said Nubia again. She leaned forward and pointed. ‘Could it be a stingray? That creature above octopus and below crayfish?’
‘Oh, well done, Nubia!’ cried Flavia. ‘I think you’re right. That’s a stingray.’ She stopped sluicing herself and sat forward to examine the mosaic.
‘Behold the spine,’ said Nubia, tracing its tail with the big toe of her right foot.
‘Ugh!’ Flavia shuddered. ‘What a horrible way to die.’
‘Puellae! Girls!’ A large woman wearing a sage-green headscarf but nothing else clapped her wet hands. ‘Time for your massage.’ She gestured at two free places on the hexagonal platform. Another naked masseuse with a gap-toothed smile waited beside her.
Nubia carefully followed Flavia to the platform and stretched out on her stomach. The smooth polished marble beneath her was wet and warm. She closed her eyes and let the larger woman begin to massage her back with scented oil. It was lavender, and made her think of Aristo. She knew she should not be thinking of him now; she should be helping Flavia get information. Nubia opened her eyes and saw bare feet a few inches from her nose; Flavia was also lying on her stomach.
‘I hear the emperor died in this bath-house,’ came Flavia’s clear voice. ‘And that his last words were: I regret only one thing.’
‘That’s right!’ grunted Flavia’s masseuse, the gap-toothed woman. She was working her way down Flavia’s legs. ‘My nephew was at the games up in Rome last year, and he says Titus released two men who intended to assassinate him. I think those two men killed him and he must have realised it at the end. He regretted sparing them.’
‘That wasn’t it,’ came the voice of Nubia’s masseuse. ‘It was his affair with Domitia, his brother’s wife. That’s what he regretted. It was nefas and he knew he’d offended the gods.’
‘My father was here the night they brought the emperor in,’ said another voice. Nubia turned her head so that her right cheek rested on the marble. She could see the three pretty young women on their bench. They were still sluicing themselves with water. The one with tawny hair was speaking. ‘My father thinks Titus’s brother killed him. My father says Titus regretted not getting rid of Domitian when he had the chance.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Nubia’s masseuse. ‘That’s why Domitian killed him.’
‘I heard it was that Jewish princess, Berenice,’ said the thinnest girl. ‘He loved her and didn’t want her to go.’
‘You’re all wrong,’ said the third girl. ‘It was another Jewish woman. A beautiful captive from Jerusalem. They say she was the love of his life and so he set her free. I think that’s the thing Titus regretted most.’ She nodded her head wisely. ‘When you find the love of your life, never let it go.’
The next morning Flavia and Nubia dressed as boys again. But despite the tight binding around her chest, the coarse brown tunic and the straw hat, Flavia felt wonderful. Her skin was soft and scented from the long session in the bath the night before and she was still elated by having deduced that the murder weapon was a poison-tipped stylus.
Nubia had gone to the stables and when Flavia came out of her room and into the courtyard, she found it empty. The grape arbour sparkled with dew and the dawn sky was palest lemon with high pink clouds, as wispy as feathers. Flavia went out the main gate and saw Tranquillus standing by the lake. He was gazing thoughtfully up at Titus’s Sabine Villa, half hidden by the trees on the hill.
‘Good morning!’ she said brightly. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Aristo and Hilario are paying the bill,’ said Tranquillus. ‘And I think Lupus and Nubia are in the stables, helping Talpa harness the mules to our carruca.’
‘Thank you for letting us use it,’ said Flavia. ‘And thank you for bringing your tutor. I wouldn’t have been able to solve the mystery without you.’
‘These have been the best three days of my life,’ he said.
Flavia turned and looked at him in surprise. ‘They have?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
The open adoration in his eyes embarrassed Flavia, so she turned and looked out over the lake. Four ducks were swimming across the opalescent surface of the water. ‘Did I tell you what the women at the baths told us?’ she asked.
‘Yes, you told us their theories last night.’
‘But did I tell you what they said about this lake? That it has no bottom? Apparently they used to have human sacrifices here,’ she said. ‘In ancient times.’
Tranquillus caught her hand. ‘Flavia,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have another talk with pater.’
‘About what?’
‘About us.’
‘Us?’
‘You. Me. Us.’
‘Oh.’ Flavia felt her cheeks grow pink.
‘I like you, Flavia. More than any girl I’ve ever met. Even when you’re dressed as a boy.’ Tranquillus took a step closer.
Flavia smiled nervously and before she could protest, he was kissing her.
His lips were wet and warm and tasted faintly of posca. The kiss was not unpleasant, but it didn’t make her heart beat faster.
She couldn’t help thinking of Gaius Valerius Flaccus. A few months earlier he had given her an impulsive kiss in a crowded courtroom. It had set her heart thumping like a drum. But Floppy was married to another woman. So why was she even thinking of him? Especially at a moment like this?
Flavia put her arms around Tranquillus’s neck and concentrated on kissing him back. Her straw hat fell off, but her heart continued to beat as normal.
Out on the lake a moorhen gave its squeaky call and a deep, patrician voice said: ‘Flavia?’
Flavia started back with a gasp. The voice in her head had sounded so real, as if he was standing behind her. Tranquillus looked over her shoulder and his brown eyes opened wide in surprise.
‘What are you doing?’ came Flaccus’s deep voice again.
Flavia whirled. He was behind her. Gaius Valerius Flaccus was here beside Lake Paternus, in the Sabine Hills.
‘Floppy!’ she cried, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Floppy, what are you doing here?’
‘I came to find you!’ he said almost angrily. ‘I heard you were back in the country, and I knew you’d be trying to solve the biggest mystery of the year.’ She could see a muscle clench in his jaw as he struggled to control himself. ‘Flavia, I have some important news for you and your friends. Domitian is in Alba Longa. He’s offering amnesty to all his enemies for three days.’
Flavia gaped. ‘Amnesty?’
‘Yes! Amnesty!’ He still sounded angry. ‘He’s releasing debts and pardoning offences. It means you and your friends can live safely in Italia again. But you must go to Domitian’s Alban Citadel as soon as possible. Tomorrow is the last day you can claim your pardon. Tomorrow by noon.’
*
‘What is Domitian’s Alban Citadel?’ Flavia asked Flaccus a quarter of an hour later. They were in the carruca, driving south as fast as they could. Flaccus’s horse was tethered to the back of the carruca; he had ridden most of the night and the black gelding was exhausted. Flaccus sat on the bench opposite her, looking tired but handsome. By letting his straight dark hair fall over his eyes he avoided her gaze.
‘Domitian’s Alban Citadel,’ he said in his deep soft voice, ‘is a palatial villa in Alba Longa. That’s where he spends most of his free time.’
‘Is that the place you were telling us about?’ said Flavia to Aristo. ‘The town that Ascanius founded?’
‘Y
es,’ said Aristo. ‘Though I’ve never been there.’
‘I have,’ said Tranquillus. ‘Domitian’s villa is across the lake from my aunt. We can see it from her house. He started building it five years ago and he’s still working on it.’
‘Why is he building a palace there and not here?’ asked Flavia, gesturing at the green Sabine Hills around them.
‘Domitian was born in Rome, ten years after Titus,’ said Flaccus. ‘His father was on campaign for most of his childhood, and his brother lived in Claudius’s royal court. So he doesn’t have much attachment to this area.’
‘Remember I showed you the house he grew up in?’ said Tranquillus. ‘The house on Pomegranate Street? After his father died, he decided to build his own country retreat in Alba Longa. They say he fell in love with Domitia there.’
‘His villa is being designed by Rabirius,’ added Hilario, ‘the finest architect alive.’
‘But where is it?’ asked Flavia. ‘Where is Alba Longa?’
‘About fifteen miles southeast of Rome,’ said Tranquillus. ‘On Lake Albanus.’
Flaccus glanced up at Lupus, who was sitting beside Talpa, and gave him a tired smile. ‘Loan me your wax tablet?’
Lupus took his tablet from his belt pouch and handed it down to Flaccus.
Flaccus opened it. ‘Look,’ he said, as he drew in the yellow beeswax.
Flavia leaned forward, and he turned it so she and Nubia could both see.
‘Imagine Rome is the hub of a wheel with eight spokes,’ he said. ‘Two vertical spokes, two horizontal and four slanting. Titus’s Sabine Villa is where the angled spoke meets the wheel here, at the northeast. Lake Albanus is down here to the southeast, where other angled spoke meets the wheel at the lower right.’
‘Is there a direct road from here to there?’ asked Flavia.
‘No,’ said Tranquillus. ‘We have to go back to the hub to get there, back to Rome.’
‘That’s right,’ said Flaccus, and moved the tip of the stylus down one spoke towards the centre of the wheel. ‘At the moment we’re travelling south down along the Via Salaria to Rome, the hub. Once we reach Rome, we take this spoke – the Appian Way – southeast to Lake Albanus.’
‘Why isn’t he doing this in Rome?’ asked Aristo. ‘Offering amnesty, I mean.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Flaccus, passing his hand over his face. ‘I’m so tired I can’t think straight. I’m going to sleep, if I can. Does anyone mind if I stretch out on the floor?’
The sun was warm and the awning rolled right back, so they all contributed their cloaks to make a bed on the floor at their feet. Flavia watched Flaccus lie down and close his eyes. She wanted to ask him a dozen questions. How had he found out they were back in Italia? Why was he helping them? What was marriage to Prudentilla like? Why had he looked so hurt when he found her kissing Tranquillus?
Flaccus’s muscular forearm was over his eyes to keep out the bright sunshine. Presently he fell asleep. His arm slipped back above his head and his forehead relaxed. Although he was twenty, he suddenly looked very young.
Flavia swallowed hard. She realised she was still completely and utterly in love with him.
Although there was a seat free on the padded bench of the carruca, Lupus remained up at the front with Talpa. He liked the steady forward motion, and when Talpa let him take the reins on a straight part of the road it made him feel capable and in control. Flaccus awoke briefly when they stopped for a midday break, and then again in the late afternoon, as they passed the eight-mile marker on the way back to Rome. They stopped again, so that Flaccus could relieve himself in the bushes. Lupus went with him. After they had done their business they both went down to the banks of the Tiber and splashed water on their faces, cold and clear from the Sabine Hills.
As Lupus began to fill his goatskin flask, Flaccus said, ‘I set out in such a hurry I didn’t even take a waterskin.’
Lupus held out his own dripping goatskin to Flaccus, who took a long drink and handed it back. ‘How long have Flavia and that boy been together?’ said Flaccus, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. ‘Are they betrothed? I didn’t see a ring.’
Lupus shook his head and grunted ‘no’. He wanted to tell Flaccus they had only just recently met up with Tranquillus again, and that he didn’t think Flavia and Tranquillus were together. But Flaccus hadn’t waited for a reply. He was already making his way back up to the road and the waiting carruca.
On the last leg of the journey back to Rome, Flavia tried to get Floppy to look at her. She told him all about their quest to find Jonathan and to prove that Domitian was behind the death of Titus. He nodded but did not raise his head. Aristo and Tranquillus helped fill him in on the mystery. He looked at them, but he would not meet Flavia’s gaze.
Even Tranquillus noticed Flaccus’s coolness, and he came to her rescue. ‘Flavia is amazing,’ he said. ‘The way she can unravel a mystery.’
Flavia flushed with pleasure and looked expectantly at Flaccus.
‘Yes,’ he said, gazing out the back of the carruca. ‘But she can sometimes be too hasty in the conclusions she draws.’
Flavia’s smile faded. She needed to try a different approach. ‘Enough about me,’ she said. ‘What about you, Gaius Valerius Flaccus? Tell us your news. How is Prudentilla?’
For a moment he looked startled. Then he said, ‘Prudentilla is fine,’ and turned to Nubia. ‘How are you?’
‘I am very well,’ said Nubia. ‘I am saved.’
‘Saved?’ he raised his dark eyebrows.
Nubia nodded and started to explain, but Flavia interrupted. ‘We met a prophet in Ephesus,’ she said, ‘and now they’ve all converted to a new religion.’
‘It’s a new sect of Judaism,’ said Aristo. ‘We call it The Way. We believe God sent his son as a sacrifice, once and for all, to give us eternal life.’
‘And no more animal sacrifice,’ said Nubia happily. ‘Also, we try to be good and kind to each other and to do what is right.’
From his seat beside Talpa, Lupus turned and gave Flaccus a thumbs-up.
Flaccus looked surprised. ‘You’ve all converted?’ he asked.
‘All except for me,’ said Flavia. ‘I think it’s irrational. Imagine believing that a dead person could come alive again!’
‘Is yours the sect that worship Chrestus?’ Hilario raised one of his arched eyebrows. ‘That’s a subversive religion. No wonder you have no qualms about accusing the emperor.’
‘We’re not subversive,’ said Aristo. ‘We seek the Truth. And we strive to live a pure life in this world.’
Flaccus snorted. ‘With the reward of immortality in the next? Good luck to you. I hope it works.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to live for ever in a beautiful garden, with no pain and tears?’ asked Aristo.
‘Actually, no,’ said Flaccus in his deep voice. ‘I prefer city life. Also, I think I’d go mad in a perfect world. Besides,’ he stared down at the floorboards of the carruca, ‘there is no such thing as life after death. The only immortality we can ever hope for is that our names be remembered because of what we write or what legacy we leave. That’s why I’ve gone back to my epic poem,’ he added under his breath.
‘The Argonautica?’ said Flavia. ‘Are you still working on that?’
Flaccus nodded, but he did not look at her. ‘That’s the most important thing in my life at the moment,’ he said, ‘and I’m not going to let anything distract me from it again.’
*
They left Flaccus’s horse and the tired mules at the Collina Gate stables and entered Rome on foot, just as the sun was setting.
‘I suggest you set out for Alba Longa at dawn,’ said Flaccus. ‘Make sure you arrive by noon. Our new emperor is giving a dinner party and games later in the day.’
‘Aren’t you coming with us?’ asked Flavia, close to tears.
‘I think you have all the help you need, Flavia Gemina,’ he said. And for the first time all day he looked directly at her. She
saw the hurt and anger in his dark eyes and it was like a slap in the face.
‘Oh, Floppy!’ she whispered. ‘We need you. I need you.’
But he was already walking away.
‘Floppy!’ called Flavia after him. ‘Flaccus!’
‘We don’t need him,’ said Tranquillus, as they all watched his retreating back. He turned to Flavia. ‘Come on. We’ll spend the night at my house and set out for the Alban Lake at dawn. I’ll tell my father I’m visiting Mater and my aunt.’ Tranquillus gave his paedagogus a meaningful glance. ‘You’ll back up my story, won’t you, Hilario?’
‘Of course, master.’ Hilario rolled his eyes and sighed deeply.
‘Excellent,’ said Tranquillus.
‘Floppy must live around here,’ said Flavia to Tranquillus, as they went up the same street Flaccus had taken. ‘Do you know much about him?’
‘No more than the rest of Rome,’ said Tranquillus. ‘Just that he’s accepted a junior priesthood, a good step on the cursus honorum. And that he broke off his engagement last month.’
Flavia stopped so suddenly that Nubia bumped into her. ‘He didn’t marry Prudentilla?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know the name of his betrothed,’ said Tranquillus with a scowl. ‘Only that he ruffled a lot of feathers by calling off the wedding at the last moment. He and his sponsa had just been on a trip to Halicarnassus,’ he said. ‘They brought back half a dozen freeborn children who’d been sold into slavery. His position as priest is a reward for that, I think. But if he’d backed out of his engagement before the appointment he might never have received it. Come on,’ he said. ‘I’m hungry and tired and want to get home before dark.’
Gaius Suetonius Laetus was dining with another senator, but his son Tranquillus had the household slaves prepare the best triclinium. An hour after dusk, the friends and their tutors dined on hot leek soup followed by papyrus thin strips of cured beef and hard-boiled quails’ eggs. For mensa secunda they had pears poached in honey with walnuts and creamy cheese on top. Nubia enjoyed the meal almost as much as she enjoyed reclining next to Aristo. He shared her couch, positioned slightly behind her. The autumn night was cool and when she shivered he slipped his own red travelling cloak around her shoulders. It was still warm from his body. Nubia gave another shiver, this time of pleasure.
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 262