Murder In-Absentia

by Assaph Mehr

  “The original Hellican, of course,” she said smugly.

  “The one he dedicated to Aescliyanes, his king?”

  “Of course. There is no other edition.”

  “In fact there was,” I said. “Aescliyanes was just a boy when Liberalis presented him with the work. It was hoped that the young king would become a patron of the sciences, however since he was still of a tender age Liberalis edited out the more gruesome bits. The previous edition which he dedicated to his mentor Democrithas, which contained further details, had unfortunately fallen out of circulation following the publication of the king’s edition.”

  Aemilia looked sceptical, but that would at least keep her busy while she researched this non-existent edition. I changed the subject quickly. “Tell me Titus Hortensius, is this your first child? You must be excited and delighted.”

  Conversation continued mercifully away from me or the topic of monster cooking. Dish after dish was brought out, from fresh oysters to larks’ tongues in aspic, from sea urchin roe in sauce to goat testicle skewers; dancers and acrobats, singers and lute players wandered around the rooms; wine was steadily provided by unobtrusive slaves.

  Finally, when darkness fell and the first stars were out, Aulus Paulinus called for the main course. An expectant murmur passed through the guests, all conversation dying down and eyes cast in the direction of the kitchens. First, four muscular slaves walked in and erected two high tripods in the centre courtyard, in front of Aulus Paulinus. They then walked back inside, and after a few tense minutes returned carrying the huge carcass on its spit. The gathered guests erupted in cheers for the governor’s largess and innovation.

  The cook walked in after the beast carrying his knives, and a train of slaves followed carrying plates. He proceeded to carve out bits of both the bird and animal parts and lay them on the plates. The first plate went to Aulus Paulinus who, after the briefest moment of apprehension, smiled and tasted the meats. He looked pleased, and raised a toast to his guests. I was certain some hapless slave was force-fed this meat before it got to us though, just to make sure that cook and I did indeed remove all traces of poison. Our turn came as well, and a slave girl put down the plate with cuts of meat before us. While my little charmed wine did the trick and the beast was well roasted, I have to say that the lion part was a bit gamy and the bird parts, while nice, tasted remarkably like chicken.

  * * *

  Two more things happened by the end of the night. First, Aulus Paulinus took me aside when he was doing a round of socialising. Gaius Nonius his cook had thanked him profusely for sending me along to help, vowing that the success of the dish could be attributed to my knowledge of cooking special creatures. Paulinus, properly impressed, was now also satisfied that this feast will etch him into the memory of future voters. I managed to deflect his queries about my business for the Corpio family, and let him understand that my services are of a specialist nature and available for hire. I insisted that his sincere thanks were sufficient, and he vowed to remember me and my service to him. Someone at his level can be extremely valuable when cultivated as a contact in my debt.

  The second was another fortuitous happenstance. Cornelia maior and Aemilia were planning to sail the next day, the Kalends of Maius, back to Egretia. Now that my investigations of Caeso’s trail on the islands had been exhausted, Cornelia offered me to accompany them on the voyage back. This was something I gladly accepted, despite some disdainful scoffs from Aemilia.

  The next day, however, everybody woke up late and suffering the after-effects of last night’s convivium, and departure was summarily postponed to the day after. We spent the day in relative quiet. With no further leads to follow in Kebros, I whiled the time in Publius Corpio’s library, reading up more of the scrolls I got in Ephemezica. Aemilia walked in a couple of times to borrow scrolls. I checked the ones she inspected, and they all had to do with natural histories, from Plinius to Ovidius. She would of course not find any references to a prior edition of Liberalis — there being no such edition — but she had a sharp mind, and would likely pick up on things if I slipped. I was reminded of what my father used to say, that enemies should only be made on purpose. Then again, my father lost his business and his life, putting his advice into question. Still, I resolved to mind what I say around her in the future.

  By evening Cornelia and Aemilia’s trunks were packed and sent to their ship. The simple dinner went quietly, and we all retired early expecting an early rise. I lay in my bed in the cubicle at the furthest end of the guest quarters, reading by candlelight, till I felt my eyelids drooping. I rolled the scroll and placed it on the side of my bed and was about to blow the candle when my gaze was arrested.

  In the doorway stood Cornelia maior, dressed in gown made out of some sheer fabric. So sheer, that by the light of the torches behind her in the corridor I could see the lines of her shapely figure. She walked into the room slowly with a swaying gait, her hips moving in a most enticing manner. She closed the door behind her, approached my bed, and still I could not speak.

  “You know, I found yesterday’s games quite exciting,” she said as she sat on the edge of the bed next to me, “and I know you did too. I was quite impressed with your… performance, in fact. I thought perhaps another, private, performance might be in order.”

  I sat up and, still unable to speak, nodded in what I hoped was a suave and mysterious manner. She slowly unfastened the clasps of her gown and let it fall around her waist. I forced myself to look deep into her eyes and not stare at her pendulous breasts. I leaned forward to kiss her, but she pushed against my chest playfully and sent me sprawling on my back. She hovered above me and said, “Let’s do it my way.”

  She blew out the candle.

  I planned to spend the time during the cruise perusing the scrolls and formulating my next steps. I had to approach Zymaxis and gain the confidence of his cabal; I had to check up on Gaius Famnius and ascertain what information he had given to Caeso; and I wanted to chase down Drusus again, and find out if omitting his own vision at the sibyl was simply due to embarrassment or perhaps he owned more sinister reasons.

  None of that happened of course. While the luxury ship possessed several cabins for its mistress and her guests, I saw little of my own sleeping quarters. Cornelia made it clear that once we reached Egretia, she will have to resume a public life of respectability, and our paths shall not cross again. She also made it clear, in many varied and engaging ways, that she planned to make the most of our trip.

  SCROLL III - VERGU

  Chapter XIX

  We made port in Egretia late on the Nones of Maius, after six days of sailing. Cornelia’s ship was a sturdy thing, and while she did not employ an incantator her competent crew and favourable winds got us back at a good pace. We sailed round the Pharos with its ever-shining light and entered the Bay of Egretia. We stood at the rails of the ship — Cornelia, Aemilia and myself — keeping quiet and gazing at the view of the city sprawled on the two arms descending from the high volcanic peak of Vergu. The sight, sounds and smells of Egretia always gave me pause after an absence, a welcome feeling of returning home.

  I made my way to my domus, stopping on the way only to make a donation to Neptunus’ temple as thanks for the safe voyage. At home I found Dascha continuing about her chores as if I merely spent the night at some brothel. She sniffed at my clothes and took them away, informing me that a dinner of sea bass poached in wine and herbs will be ready soon. Thus I returned to my city and got my welcome.

  This being the day of the Nones, I was too late to meet Zymaxis and his cabal; when I met them last it was on the night before the Nones, and I was told to meet them at the same time this month. Still, I wanted to go there and see if the meeting did indeed take place, if Didia had managed to find any names for me, and what else I could learn before confronting members of the cabal. I stopped on the way at Crassitius’ usual haunt, but unfortunately his gladiators were all spoken for this night — some high society orgy. By the ti
me I made it to the Dented Skull it was after dark.

  I found Titus Septimius the proprietor, and took him aside. Zymaxis left instructions with him that should I come he was to let me know the day of the next cabal meeting — which happened to be in five days. I learnt from him that indeed Zymaxis was there last night, and was not expected to come again before the coming session.

  I settled into a bench at the back and waited. As I sipped my wine, I saw Didia come down from her room, adjusting her clothes and followed by a bald and sleazy man with a satisfied look on his face. She came over to my table and placed a small dish with olives in front of me. “Haven’t seen you for a while,” she said, and added with a wink, “Can I entertain you in any way?”

  Not wishing to go where another man had just gone before I declined, though I asked softly if she managed to find out any of the cabal names. She nodded and said, “Not here, come with me.”

  We went up to her room again, and she turned to me. “I don’t want my dominus to see how much you pay me. This way I can pretend I just got the usual rates. I heard three names. The first time was late, and not many customers were around. Most of the cabal had already left, only the tall one with the short hair stayed behind together with the fat creepy one, the one who always has stains on his clothes. I heard the fat man call the tall one Gaius Marcius as they walked out. The tall one was displeased, and told him not to mention his name again here. They did not see me though, or did not care enough about me.

  “The next time the fat creepy man was talking to the freedman. The freedman called him Quintus Fufidius. And they mentioned another name, Tiberius Pomponius, but I do not know who they referred to.”

  Three names. That was a good start.

  I returned to my home late that dark evening, doffed off my clothes and ate a quiet dinner by myself. After dinner I sat in my study, and read through the ceremony again, preparing the heavily excerpted copies I planned to use tomorrow. By the time I finished, the hour was late, and I stumbled through the peristyle garden under the canopy of stars to my sleeping cubicle.

  This was the first night I spent in my own bed for some time, and the first one alone since setting sail from Kebros. I was quite sorry when we arrived at Egretia for the loss of the distraction Cornelia afforded me. With my resumption of my investigation into the death of Caeso, so did my nightmares. What was it about this case, that dredged these memories of my past? And why, after blissful nights with Cornelia, was the place of Helena in my dreams taken up by Aemilia?

  * * *

  I started the next day with visiting Corpio. I presented myself early at his domus, and found a number of his other clients seeking their patron’s favour. Typheus saw me, did a quick mental calculation, and inserted me into the queue of clients at the right place for the importance of his master’s business with me without causing ruffled feathers amongst the more notable men.

  I did not have to wait long till I was ushered by Typheus into Corpio’s study. I suspect this probably had more to do with getting rid of my disreputable self quickly from his atrium, rather than a reflection of my position in society.

  I greeted Corpio and sat in the client’s seat opposite him.

  “Have you good news for me? Can we finally put this matter to rest?” he asked.

  “Sadly not yet,” I said, “although I am here to report on some good progress.” I gave Corpio an account of my travels to Ephemezica, of the scroll and the ceremony his son had gotten into. “With this information, we are now in a better position to track all those who were involved with his demise.”

  Next I gave an account of my visit to his brother, although here I kept the report short and my speculations to myself. I felt it was not the time yet for half formed ideas and tales of sibyls. I then got to the main reason of today’s visit. “Do any of the following names mean anything to you,” I asked. “Gaius Marcius, a tall man of military bearing; Quintus Fufidius, a shabby-looking incantator; and a name without a face — Tiberius Pomponius?”

  “Tiberius Pomponius sounds familiar…” Corpio glanced at Typheus.

  The secretary cleared his throat and said, “A backbencher senator. A novus homo, the first of his family to be admitted to the senate. Comes from a mercantile background. Voted with the majority so far, and did not distinguish himself in any way. I could find out his patron, if he has one.”

  “Do that.” Said Corpio. “As for the other names, Quintus Fufidius does not sound familiar, which is not surprising. I deal with the rhones of the Collegium Incantatorum, and employ my own of course, but I do not follow their circles. Nor is the family name Fufidia a prominent one. I will make some discreet enquiries amongst the rhones of the Collegium Incantatorum. And that last name again?”

  “Gaius Marcius” I said.

  “There are a few Gaius of the Marcia gens. Do you know the cognomen?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “Well, the two most prominent ones with military careers are Marcius Paetus and Marcius Gaetanicus. The first was a praetor some years ago, now almost sixty.” I shook my head. “The other has been a legate of Decius Corvinus in his campaign against the raiding of the Tigumani into our provinces. You might remember Corvinus’ triumph of four years ago. My understanding though, is that Gaetanicus studied in the Collegium Militum under the fetiales, so a diplomat now rather than a general.” A spy, he meant. “And then there’s Marcius Paullus, who was selected tribune of the soldiers last year, and posted with the legions garrisoned in Capricia. I shall make enquiries of all their recent whereabouts, and have this information sent to you.” I heard Typheus scratch out notes on his wax tablets behind me.

  I thanked Corpio, and promised him another report soon.

  I left Corpio’s house and walked along the Vicus Caprificus. Through the avenues between the houses going down the hill I could see the Bay of Egretia, the clear water merrily reflecting the sunlight. Many small ships were moving about, driven by oars inside the harbour and docking in the many wharves along the shores. As the ships made their way out of the bay, I could just see them put up their square white sails as they rounded the ever-shining bright light of the Pharos, and disappear in the horizon.

  * * *

  I decided to restart my investigation in Egretia where I was sure to get information. It’s always a good omen to start with tangible progress; it helps keep the spirit up when leads invariably dry up and the case keeps running into blank walls and closed doors. I walked across the forum and all the way up the Meridionali, to the Subvales and Brewyn’s tattoo parlour.

  He wasn’t in.

  The old proprietor of the sundries shop, once I managed to explain to him in a loud enough voice what I wanted, just said, “Ah, him. He never wakes up before lunch. Lazy foreigner. Probably spent last night drinking that awful beer that his kind likes, and now can’t get his arse out of bed.”

  So much for good omens.

  I trudged my way up the hill and back down towards the forum. Gaius Famnius’ family business was located in a small street not far from the Porticus Aemilia, on the posh western side of the Forum. I presented myself at the main offices, and asked the clerk after the young master Gaius Famnius. At least here I was in luck. The clerk led inside and left me to wait at a nicely appointed reception room. After a few minutes a young man entered, clad in a toga and with a thin saffron stripe along the right side of his tunic.

  “Greetings,” he said, “I was told you were looking for me.”

  “Ave Gaius Famnius. My name is Felix, sometimes called Felix the Fox. I bear greetings from your friend Gaius Opimius Agrippa.”

  His face brightened with a smile. “How is dear Agrippa doing? I have not seen him for this past few months.”

  “He is well indeed, happy at his residence on Kebros amongst his bees.”

  “He was always happiest dealing with the little creatures of this world. The city suffocates him on his winter visits.” We sat down and Famnius clapped his hands and ordered a slave to bring
wine and water. “Now what can I do for a friend of my dear friend Gaius Opimius?” he asked me.

  “I understand from him that a while ago he sent a young man to you. The young man came from a merchant family, yet his heart and mind were sparked by the incantatores. His name was Caeso Quinctius Corpio.” I looked at his face closely as I said the name, but all I could see was a mild, not unpleasant surprise.

  “Oh yes, an inquisitive young man, born to the wrong family. Like so many of us, he wished to follow a different path than that prescribed for him by birth and fate.”

  “Have you heard of his passing?” I asked.

  “I have, I have. I was saddened to hear about it, he was so young and gregarious.” That was the first I heard anyone describe Caeso as gregarious. Perhaps the spark of interest had let him open up to Famnius. I chose my next words carefully.

  “His father was quite distraught at his passing, it was very sudden. Purely out of love for his son, he asked me to inquire into the last few months of his life. Would you be able to tell me of his interests? What was he after, when you spoke with him?”

  “He was quite interested in the magia, as you must have learnt from Gaius Opimius. Indeed, Opimius had sent him to me with a letter of introduction in which he described him as an eager student. I have always wanted to become a teacher at the Collegium, but my father and fate had decreed it not to be. I was happy to discuss with him the basic philosophies of incantation, and even let him borrow a few scrolls of elementary teachings. All introductory stuff really, the things we incantatores all learn in our first term at the Collegium. He was a voracious reader, returning swiftly each time with more questions and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. We grew quite close over those weeks, talking late into the night on many occasions.

  “He was a natural, if you ask me. We could have gained a great incantator, if he was allowed to study properly. When I asked him if he would consider switching studies, he replied his father would not hear about it, that the family pride in the generations of leading the Collegium Mercatorum would not let him take another course.”