The trials were duly held. Hirsius was sentenced to death – as he well deserved – but found a way of taking poison in his cell. Perhaps the fleet commander had provided it, although – as I had predicted – he and his wife appealed to the Emperor and (no doubt at the cost of some exotic gift) managed to escape the justice of the courts. The snake-charmer and the mimic were not so fortunate.
Marcus’s mother, when she had recovered from the shock, declared that the whole thing was exactly what she had always feared, and might have been predicted if he’d listened to her dreams. She foresaw more evil auguries – and wrote to say so almost every day, right up to the time that Marcus and his family left for Rome. However, the honours that were piled upon him there must have made her wonder if the auguries were right.
My little household is as happy as it has ever been – without the slightest visitation of phantoms or bad luck. We must have pacified the Lemures that night.
A Coin for the Ferryman Page 29