by Assaph Mehr
By the first light of morning we started down the mountain, escorted by armed soldiers sent by Gaetanicus. It was a long way down, which after the eventful night felt not much easier than the climb up. We made our way to Cornelia’s house on the Clivi Ulterior, and I insisted on bringing her to her mother personally, despite the armed guard. They fell into each other’s arms in tears of relief, and I excused myself.
Araxus and Borax accompanied me to my home. We walked in silence. Araxus bade me goodbye when we neared my house, turned and continued on his way. I dismissed Borax, wishing nothing but a long sleep.
* * *
I woke up an hour before sunset, and went to the Baths of Mauritius in the Campus Civicus. Sore and still dirty, I hired a slave to oil and scrape me thoroughly with a strigil, and then spent a long time in the warm and hot plunges. Once I felt sufficiently clean and relaxed, I paid for a deep and relaxing massage.
Body restored, I let my mind roam free. Last night put me right back at the beginning. I was so certain I had figured out what happened to Caeso, how the cabal tried to perform the Rite of Pelegrinus, and the cause of their failure through the misinterpretation of the Aten. I really just went for a confirmation, a confession.
And yet I was wrong.
I might have doubted Zymaxis’ account. I had no way to force the truth from him, no time for either incantations or simple torture. But I didn’t. My gut feeling, after having questioned many a man, said that Zymaxis was not lying in Caeso’s account, at least not then at the top of Vergu when he faced his defeat. He really never did pay the youth much attention.
The other members of the cabal could not have spoken either, as evidenced by Philokrates. Gaetanicus, having access to the full backing and resources of the Fetiales, managed to avoid being bound by the blood-oath. He was left as a free agent. By the time Zymaxis realised this, he thought he would be able to use him. When Philokrates disappeared, and Zymaxis must have had a connection through the blood-bond to know he was dead, he assumed Gaetanicus was the traitor responsible.
Gaetanicus, free of the bond and satisfied with the turn of events, had no reason to lie to me about Caeso. He had plans and resources to deal with the cabal that night, and while my involvement was an unexpected turn of events, it seemed like he underestimated Fufidius. Araxus and I may have changed the course of the show-down, but in the end he reached his desired goal. When I asked him to keep the Corpio family name and mine out of it, he was happy to oblige. More glory for him.
So I had no reason to think he would lie about Caeso, support Zymaxis on that one point. Not that I would normally trust our master-spies, but I was not asking about state secrets. And he struck me as an honourable man.
And yet… I had amassed a volume of evidence. Caeso was tattooed with all the right markings for the Rite of Pelegrinus. I found from Famnius he had access to the library of the Collegium Incantatorum. I found traces of the scrolls and inks in the cave under the Pharos, a cave I knew he frequented from Mahatixa.
So how? And who?
Absent a cabal, how was Caeso murdered?
It was dark by the time I left the baths, and I was ravenous. I made my way back home, to a warm stew cooked by Dascha. A full stomach and a good night’s sleep would get my thinking out of its circuitous rut.
I woke up the next day refreshed in mind and body. I always think better when I walk, so I took a wax tablet and stylus for scribbling and set out. I wrote down pieces of the puzzle, moved them around, drew arrows and lines. I reviewed everything I had found, took a critical look at what I knew, what I assumed to be connected. I ran my mind back over every meeting, every detail I got about Caeso. His behaviour last year, his voyage to Kebros, the sibyl and what he might have experienced on top of Mons Krodus. I now knew Drusus hid information from me, told me only such details as he thought I would find out regardless, but was he connected to Caeso’s death?
I reflected on the testimony of Mahatixa, the street mime with whom Caeso was in love, the one who rejected him. I thought of Porcius and Lutatius, his friends who saw his health deteriorate, physically and mentally. I recalled what Corfidius and Opimius, Publius Corpio’s men on Kebros have told me. I speculated about Famnius, who seemed at first keen to work with an enthusiastic youth and then felt betrayed.
I tried to put up a picture of Caeso, a sequence of events for the last few months of his life. I did this pounding the pavements of our city, resting occasionally in the shade of a tree near a public fountain, or stopping to get a bite of food or drink from a street vendor. By afternoon I found myself on the wharves of the Campus Civicus. I was sitting with my feet dangling over the edge of the walled shoreline, the wax tablet lying open next to me, the scribbles by now a complete mess.
My mind was running in circles. I had a dead body, absent a killer. I had a necromantic rite, absent a cabal to perform it. I had many pieces of the puzzle, but was absent the picture connecting them. I was missing some key insight that would make everything fall into place.
I gazed out across the waters of the bay. A warm summer day, the dazzling brilliance of the sky reflected in the calm surface. Many boats and ships were out, rhythmic drumming setting the pace for the rowers and echoing all the way to the shore. Beyond them, the opening to the wide oceans where ships put up their large square sails. Those fortunate enough to have an on-board incantator filled their sails immediately, but most had to work and tack with oars until they picked up wind and speed.
And towering above them, on its own small rocky island, the Pharos, the lighthouse marking the entry to the Bay of Egretia. It was the tallest structure in our city, raised as a solid block of marble by Iunius Brutus in a feat of incomparable control of magia. Its light was so bright it could be seen for miles even in broad daylight. Such power that lasted through the ages, I could feel the tingling on my skin even from where I was sitting on the other side of the bay.
And suddenly I understood.
* * *
We were sitting in Corpio’s mansion on the Septentrionali, comfortably reclining on the couches of the triclinium. It was the evening of the second day after the Ides of Maius. I sent word early to the key people affected, and was satisfied to see that all the important individuals of this case have gathered here tonight.
Corpio was reclining on the central couch, with Gnaeus Drusus Scaevola, the father of Caeso’s friend, in the locus consularis — the place of honour — next to him. Typheus was allowed to stand at the back behind his master. Cornelia and Aemilia were sitting on the left hand couch next to Corpio, and I reclined together with Gaetanicus on the right hand couch, sipping my mulsum while they all looked expectantly at me.
“It all started last summer, when Caeso fell in love with a street mime,” I began. “He was immature and foolish perhaps, but that is how the hearts of young people work. He knew there was no future in it, which perhaps made him all the more attracted to her. She rejected him at first, as she was just aware as he was about the futility of such a relationship. Eventually she succumbed to his charms. You must have suspected something,” I addressed Corpio, “when you sent him away to Kebros.”
Corpio nodded. “I thought it was something of the sort. I thought of him as a spoiled child with his toys taken away, wanted him to grow up. Now I wish I never did.”
“These things have a way to find their way,” I said gently, “even when we try and circumvent the Fates. You also sent the son of your friend Gnaeus Drusus together with him. He was a man full of life, with a bright future ahead of him, and I imagine you both believed it would be a good influence.”
“He was very ambitious,” said Drusus’ father, looking haggard. The realisations that came with his son’s recent death weighed heavily upon him.
“The two boys toured around the Kebric Isles. From the accounts I gathered, it seemed at first that Caeso was inconsolable, a young man with a flair for the dramatic, pining for his lost love. And then something changed. This was the time you were there too, you mus
t have seen it,” I looked at Cornelia and Aemilia.
“Indeed, although I attributed it just to his heart healing,” said Cornelia.
“I always thought my cousin was soppy,” from Aemilia. “Even as a child he would get excited over many things, only to lose interest quickly.”
“Well it seemed he found a new thing to occupy his mind, a new outlet for his excitement. Young Marcus Corpio, Publius’ son, told Caeso and Drusus about a mysterious lamia on one of the isles. He took them there, although the old woman turned out to be no monster. A sibyl, a prophetess sitting on an ancient spring of power, they found her and received their visions. While we can never know what each young man saw in his vision, we know that both climbed the Mons Krodus a few short days later.” I stopped to take another sip of wine and organise my thoughts. I had the big mosaic of events clear in my mind, yet I knew some pieces to be forever missing.
“Our people have always been worshipping the numina, the faceless gods and presences that rule our world. Our religious orders are charged with worshipping and placating them, and our incantatores study the energies that seep from them into our world. Some say that these numina are nothing but the energies of magia, with no sentience behind them. Some say the incantatores are only the pawns of the numina, blindly acting out their parts to the amusement of the gods. Be that as it may, just like our city is nestled in the arms of Vergu under which Vulcanus sleeps, the top of Kebros is open to the vastness of sky and air, a stormy place where the presence of Iovis Pater can be felt. I believe both young men climbed the mountain following their vision at the sibyl, and both found the shrine on top. What they experienced of the numina there… awakened a new life in them. The two youths came down that mountain with a clear purpose, in search of true power.” Another sip to ease my parched throat.
“They started to seek power upon their return to Egretia. Drusus must have stumbled on Zymaxis’ cabal, although I do not know how. I do know he tried to get Caeso involved as well, but Caeso showed no interest in joining the cabal and was never admitted to it.” I looked at Gaetanicus, who nodded.
“I followed that tenuous link to the cabal because of the way he died, you see. I recognised the signs of the Rite of Pelegrinus when I inspected his body. They are unmistakable. There was a tracery of tattoos above his heart and on his chest, and when I cut under his skin I found his heart had turned into a large stone ruby.” I saw Corpio shudder at the memory, and the rest shudder at the sacrilege of desecrating a dead body. “The tale of Pelegrinus is one told to aspiring incantatores, a tale of caution about attempting the magia vita terminalis. By now it is mostly legend, and the Heart of Ruby — its most famous characteristic — bordering on myth. Caeso, perhaps, was in a way seeking to heal and fortify his own broken heart.
“I had, almost by chance, managed to get a copy of the Rite of Pelegrinus. It was in the same library Zymaxis had sent Philokrates to retrieve from Ephemezica. I has been thoroughly destroyed,” I added to calm Gaetanicus who perked up at this. “It confirmed that the markings and tattoos could only mean the Rite of Pelegrinus. But this rite, you see, requires a cabal of eleven men to perform. And Zymaxis’ group never numbered eleven, am I right?”
“You are correct,” said Gaetanicus.
“Back to Caeso. At the time I did not know this of course, I only saw a rite that had to be performed by a cabal. That linked him to Zymaxis in my mind. Drusus, I presumed, was merely his fair-weather friend, and not involved in any of this. So on I went, and attempted to infiltrate the cabal in an attempt to expose those who killed Caeso.” Another sip, and time to organise my thoughts. This was still exposition, the hard part would come later.
“In order to gain acceptance, I was asked to retrieve an item of magical value to further their cause. Exactly what was left up to me. I had in my possession the scrolls from Ephemezica; however, while on Kebros I saw another opportunity for something that will bring great value on the markets for incantation supplies. When Aulus Paulinus the governor chose to entertain his province with games and finish off with a spectacular beast hunt for a gryphon, he saw only his future elections. Unaware of the value of organs of such mythological beasts, he had it cooked and served to his guests. Without much difficulty, I managed to put some doubts into Aulus Paulinus’ mind about the edible nature of the beast, and thus got access to the carcass. I extracted a few of its valuable organs and returned to the party.
“But Aemilia here nearly exposed me. I didn’t count on someone who had read the classics of natural philosophy. I was forced to deceive you,” I addressed her, “for which I am very sorry. Both for being dishonest, and for how it almost led to your death.” She gave me back a look I could not quite read, not hostile but with layers of meaning we men will never understand.
“However, I am digressing in my story about Caeso. When we got back I already missed the cabal meeting on the Nones, and that was perhaps for the best. It gave me time to continue my investigations here in Egretia. Now with exact knowledge of the Rite of Pelegrinus, I was able to chase down the specific ingredients that were required to complete it. Information I never shared in its entirety, not with anyone. There are special inks and ointments for the rite you see, and they had to be purchased and prepared. Such things always leave a trail, if one knows but where to look. And indeed I managed to find this trail, amongst the less reputable merchants of supplies for incantations. It took some digging, but I found out who sold the supplies to a young man matching Caeso’s description. I also managed to find Zymaxis’ supplier, although what he sold Zymaxis had nothing to do with the rite. I even, after talking to the street mime again, found out about the cave at the base of the Pharos which Caeso used to create those inks and preparations for the ceremony.” Another pause, to see that all present were riveted. I was presenting facts, but there were enough gaps that the ultimate conclusions could be subtly different.
“I should have realised then what was happening, yet the implications were just too hard to accept. During this time, Aemilia, as I mentioned, had been going around trying to solve the death of Caeso and prove me wrong. Being an intelligent and educated young woman, though lacking any education in magia nor having intimate knowledge of the circumstances of his death, she begun the same route I took, by asking his friends and acquaintances and trying to piece together the last few weeks and months of Caeso’s life. This was a very logical approach, but one that ultimately proved very dangerous, because as we now know, Caeso was never part of the cabal. Drusus was. Being a prospective initiate he was charged like me with providing them with a special gift. His, however, was not an open ended but a specific request. He was to supply them with a virgin sacrifice for the ceremony on the night before the Ides. He made an attempt on Mahatixa, the street mime whom Caeso fell in love with, but was foiled by her friends. Getting desperate, he was approached by Aemilia asking about Caeso’s death. Thinking to deal with two problems at once, he abducted her, drugged her and brought her as his price of admission to the cabal.” I saw Cornelia shuddering at the thought.
“From there we know what transpired. Cornelia asked me to help locate Aemilia, which I could not as she was shielded from magical scrying by Fufidius. I made my way to the top of Vergu, where Gaetanicus was preparing to trap all members of the cabal in the act and put an end to them. But before the ceremony or our initiation could start, Zymaxis turned on Gaetanicus. In the ensuing battle, the cabal was destroyed.
“Drusus died that night, as did Duronius and Fufidius the incantatores. Zymaxis, not being a citizen, was crucified this morning. Numerius Otacilius and Rabirius the freedman will be tried for perduellio — high treason — and very fittingly thrown off the cliffs of Vergu to their deaths. All as it should be, yet still it does not tell us what happened to Caeso.” By now I was the only one sipping his wine, the rest barely making a sound.
“My biggest problem was always how the Rite of Pelegrinus was performed without attracting attention. The rite is a lengthy process, five
days and nights of chanting and channelling the energies. There are many incantatores in our city, almost all of whom have the visus verum — the true sight. Any incantator with his eyes open would have seen the ripples immediately, would have felt the rite being performed. I had no answer for that, even though from the details of the ceremony and his death I knew it had to have been performed here in Egretia.
“I should have picked up on this earlier. From Caeso’s deteriorating physical health in the weeks before his death, to how he was the one who bought the ingredients for the inks and the rite, how Zymaxis was always saying that the ceremony on the Ides was their first big move, and how Caeso had no training in any of the branches of the magia. The sibyl even told me so, in as plain words as she could. I should have seen it earlier…
“Here is what happened. Last year Caeso was broken over Mahatixa as only a young man can be. He stumbled upon the sibyl of the Kebric isles, or led there by the Fates, which set him on new path. He climbed the Mons Krodus, and the numen there awakened something new in him. I believe it gave him guidance and insights on how to attempt that rite all by himself. I would not hazard to guess the reasons of the forces behind such events, though I think he was shown a path which he followed closely.” And therein laid my greatest issue, though none of the others saw it yet.
“When he got back to Egretia he spoke with a friend of a friend, an incantator at the collegium. This incantator was a young man who liked having the boy look up to him. They started to discuss magia, and by his testimony Caeso picked it up as if possessed with a great natural gift. Caeso managed to trick him, got his new friend to show him into the archives of the Collegium’s library, and there he managed to abscond with a scroll for the rite. I believe that by then he knew exactly what he was looking for.” I looked for a moment from Corpio to Aemilia and back, the continued with my chosen interpretation of events.