He tumbled towards me, staggering. I caught him in the twisted cloth, pinned his arms to his sides and spun him around. He tripped and lurched, but didn't struggle. He tilted his face towards mine.
I hissed a curse and released the towel. My captive stepped free and sucked in a quick breath, and then, as if what had just happened had been nothing more than a game, whispered, 'So Catilina did sleep with the Vestal!'
'Meto!'
'Sorry, Papa, but I couldn't sleep. My feet hurt from climbing the mountain! When I came to the door, I heard the two of you talking. It didn't seem right to step in on you, but I had to listen. You wouldn't have said anything different if you'd known I could hear, would you? And Catilina might not have said so much if I'd been in the room. I was awfully quiet, wasn't I? Did you really not know that I was there until just now? That was a mistake, leaning against the door like that…'
'Meto, when will you learn respect?'
Meto put his fingers to his lips and nodded towards the door to the cool plunge. I lowered my voice. "This habit of yours, skulking and spying, where did you possible learn such — ' I sighed. 'No, as a matter of fact, I had no idea you were there until the door creaked. Which means that you are young and agile while I am growing old and dull and possibly a little deaf I wonder, which of us is more in need of a good night's sleep?'
Meto smiled at me, and I couldn't help smiling back. I gripped the back of his neck and gave his head a firm shake, none too gently. It was time for bed, but before we turned to go I looked back at the thin bar of lamplight that shone from beneath the opposite door. A faint splashing came from the pool of cool water in the room beyond. As on the night before, soon everyone in the household would be abed and sleeping except Catilina, who would still be up, defying Morpheus and who knows what other gods to come and take him.
XIV
Morpheus must have come for Catilina at last, and claimed him until well past sunup, for it was not until mid-morning that Catilina and Tongilius appeared in the kitchen seeking food. They both looked a bit bleary-eyed from oversleep, but were quite cheerful — indeed, suspiciously self-satisfied, I thought. They muttered little jokes to one another, laughed out loud, and smiled at nothing. Their appetites were enormous, and they devoured everything Congrio set before them.
Once finished with his breakfast, Catilina announced that they would be leaving before noon. He and Tongilius dressed in blue riding tunics, gathered up their things, said farewell to Bethesda, paid their compliments to Congrio on his cooking, and loaded their horses in the stable.
I asked Catilina which way he was headed. To the north, he told me, saying he had more visits to pay in Etruria, compaigning among Sulla's old veterans, whom the dictator had settled on farmland seized from his enemies. I watched them ride off Despite having dreaded his visit so much, I was not as happy to see him leave as I'd thought I would be.
Curiously, when they reached the Cassian Way, Tongilius and Catilina turned not north but south, towards Rome. I would never have noticed, for I was no longer watching, but Meto was. He came running up to me outside the pigsties and pointed towards the two figures on the distant highway. 'What do you make of that, Papa?' 'Odd,' I said. 'Catilina claimed he was heading north. I wonder1—' 'I'll go and watch from the ridge,' Meto called back over his shoulder as he broke into a run. He was on the ridgetop long before I came
up huffing and puffing behind him He had already found the ideal lookout between two towering oaks, shielded from sight behind a dump of brambles. We could not be seen from the road, but had a clear view of everything that passed on the Cassian Way.
It was not hard to spot Catilina and Tongilius, as they were the only horsemen on the road. They seemed to have come to a halt at a spot not far from the pass between the ridge and the foothills of Mount Argentum, Why they should hesitate was unclear, until I realized that they were waiting for a team of oxen to pass by, heading north. Once over the rise, the oxen must have passed out of their sight — just as Catilina and Tongilius passed out of the oxherd's view. They looked stealthily about, then dismounted and led their horses into the underbrush on the eastern side of the road.
Their mounts secured somewhere out of sight, the two men reappeared, but only for a moment before they passed beneath the branches of a large tree and out of sight. Then I saw them again, stepping back onto the road, but only for a moment. So it went, with Catilina and Tongilius disappearing and reappearing, going back and forth along the roadside as if searching for something they had lost.
'What are they looking for?' asked Meto.
"The trailhead,' I said.
'What trailhead?'
'You must have run on ahead when Forfex explained it to me yesterday. There's another path that leads up to the mine, beginning somewhere along the Cassian Way. It's long been disused and overgrown. Catilina is trying to find the trailhead.'
'But why? He's already been to the mine.'
I made no answer. From the corner of my eye I saw Meto frowning at me, not because he was perplexed but because he sensed that I was withholding my thoughts from him. Together we watched as Catilina and Tongilius went in and out of the dense underbrush alongside the road. At length a team of slaves appeared from the south, linked by chains from neck to neck and driven along by freedmen wielding whips. Catilina and Tongilius disappeared for as long as it took the slaves to pass, then reappeared again when the way was clear.
Eventually they vanished into the brush and did not reappear for so long that I began to think they had found what they were seeking. Suddenly Meto clutched my sleeve. In the same instant I heard a rustling in the underbrush behind us, followed by a familiar voice.
'Not your usual spot — oh, please, I didn't mean to startle you! Oh, how rude of me, coming up on you like this. Gordianus, forgive me, I shouldn't laugh, but you gave such a start!' 'Claudia,' I said.
‘Yes, only me. And here's young Meto — so long since I've seen the boy. Oh, but I mustn't call you a boy, not for much longer, must I, young man? You turn sixteen this month, don't you?'
‘Yes,' said Meto, darting a glance over his shoulder, back down towards the road.
'A beautiful view from this side, isn't it? You really get the whole effect of the mountain, how vast it is, towering above the road like that.'
'Yes, quite impressive,' I said.
'But it's so uncomfortable here amid the brambles. Come, there's a spot close by with the very same view where we can all sit together on a log.'
I shrugged, trying not to look down at the road. My eyes fell on the basket in Claudia's hand.
'Oh, but you fear you'll be intruding on my lunch! Not at all, Gordianus. I have quite enough bread and cheese and olives for all of us. Come now, I won't have my hospitality refused.'
We followed her to a clearing a few feet away. As she had promised, the view was exactly the same, with the difference that we were in plain sight of the road, should anyone happen to look up.
'Now, isn't this better?' said Claudia, settling her plump bottom on the log and laying her basket before her.
'Much,' I said. Meto, I noticed, could not seem to keep from darting furtive but very obvious glances at the spot where we had last glimpsed Catilina and Tongilius. A good watcher he might be, but as an actor he was a disaster. 'However, Meto really needs to be getting back to the house.'
'Oh, Gordianus, you Roman fathers! Always so strict and demanding. My father was just the same, and I was a giri! Here it is, one of the last fine summer days of Meto's boyhood, and you would have him doing chores at midday. In a very short time hell be a man, and after that, summer days may be just as hot but they will never be as long and lovely and full of flowers and bees as they are for him at this very moment. Please, let Meto join us.'
At her insistence, Meto sat at Claudia's left and I at her right. She passed us food and waited for us to begin before taking some for herself. Once he was settled on the log with his mouth full ofcheese, Imust admit that Meto did a good job at f
eigning only casual interest in the doings at the foot of the mountain. More traffic passed on the Cassian Way — herds of sheep, slaves bearing bundles of wood on their backs, a long train of wagons ringed by armed men headed south towards Rome.
'Vases from Arretium,' declared Claudia.
'How can you tell?' said Meto.
'Because I can see right through the crates packed inside the wagons as if they were invisible!' said Claudia, then laughed when she saw that Meto seemed to be taking her seriously. 'I know, Meto, because those wagons have been coming down the Cassian Way since I was a girl, taking Arretine vases to Rome. They're awfully valuable — hence the armed guard, and the slow procession. If it were anything else valuable enough to justify the guards, the wagons would be going twice as fast. Gold and silver don't break, but fine clay vases do.'
The progress of the wagons did seem to take forever as they crept along the ribbon of road. There was no sign of Catilina.
Then Meto made an odd noise in his throat, and when I glanced at him, he made an almost imperceptible nod. I followed his gaze to a point on the mountain at least two hundred feet above the road, where a patch of blue the shade of Catilina's tunic flashed in a clearing amid the green canopy. The blue patch moved and was joined by another; I squinted, and the blue patches resolved quite clearly into two men moving about on the mountainside.
Claudia, busy leaning over her basket, did not see.
'Actually, Gordianus, I was hoping to run into you here on the ridge, for otherwise I should have had to come to pay a formal visit, and that would have been no fun at all. And I'm glad that you happen to be here as well, Meto, for I think this involves you, too.' She sat back and pursed her lips. For a moment I thought she was looking directly across the valley at Catilina and Tongilius, but she was only staring absently into the middle distance, thinking about what she had to say.
'What is it, Claudia?’
'Oh, this is so difficult…'
'Yes?'
'I had a visit this morning from my cousin Gnaeus. He says there were strangers on his mountain yesterday, men from Rome hiking up to visit the old mine.'
'Is that a fact?' I looked across the way and saw that Catilina and Tongilius had disappeared amid the foliage again.
'Yes. Some business about one of them wanting to purchase the old mine, or representing someone who might. Nonsense, if you ask me — the mine is worthless now. There's no more silver to be got from it. Anyway, Gnaeus was asking if I happened to have seen anyone traipsing about on the mountain yesterday — you can see quite a bit of the old trail from my house, you know, though it's a long way off. Well, as a matter of feet, no, I hadn't seen a thing, and none of my slaves had noticed anyone on the mountainside either.'
Claudia paused to chew an olive. 'Gnaeus says he didn't know any of these men, and only one of them bothered to introduce himself — one of the Sergii, up from Rome, as I said. But afterwards Gnaeus questioned the goatherd who had shown the men around, an old fool named Forfex, and do you know what the man told him?'
'I can't imagine.'
'He said that along with this Sergius there was a younger man who seemed to be his companion, and then there was another middle-aged man and a youth. He didn't know them, but he seemed to recall hearing the man addressed as Gordianus.' She looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
I thought for a moment. 'Did Gnaeus see these four visitors for himself?'
'Yes. But the light was growing dim. And despite his youth, Gnaeus doesn't have the best eyesight. That's why he seldom catches a boar!'
'Ah. Then you're asking me—'
'No, I'm asking you nothing. I can tell everything from your face. Well, not everything, but enough. If you wish to go snooping about my cousin's property, that is a matter between you and him. And if Gnaeus wishes to confront you about the matter, he can do so himself; I'm not his messenger. However, Gordianus, I would be derelict in my duties as a blood relation of Gnaeus, and as a good neighbour to you, if I merely kept silent. Gnaeus was not happy when Forfex repeated your name, nor was he happy when he came to see me this morning. I doubt that he'll come to see you or even send you a message; he prefers to keep to himself and brood, disappearing into the woods to hunt his boars. But if there is some untoward business going on, I advise you to consider your position very carefully, Gordianus. Be cautious! My kinfolk are not to be trifled with. There is only so much I can do to mollify them. I tell you this as a friend.'
She paused for a moment to allow this to sink in, then bent over and reached into her basket. 'And now I have a surprise — honey cakes!
My new cook baked them fresh this morning. Alas, he's no Congrio, but he does have a way with sweets.'
Meto managed to tear his eyes from the mountainside; he has always had a taste for honey. He ate the little cake quickly and then licked his fingertips. Claudia offered me a cake, but I declined.
‘You don't care for sweets, Gordianus? The new cook will take it very badly if I return with them uneaten.'
'A touch of Cicero's complaint,' I explained, touching my stomach and frowning.
'Oh, but here I've gone and upset your digestion with all this talk of Gnaeus. How thoughtless of me, to give you bread and cheese and unpleasant news at the same time. Perhaps a honey cake will settle your stomach.'
'I think not.' It was not only Claudia's news that upset my stomach, but the tension of knowing that she might spot Catilina on the mountainside or emerging onto the road at any moment. The real cure would have been for her to simply go away. But she had more to say.
'So the toga party is this month. What day?'
'Two days before the Ides.'
'Ah, just after the elections.'
I nodded but said nothing, hoping my silence would keep the conversation away from politics. It was bad enough that I was planning to be in the city immediately after the voting. Whether Catilina won or lost, his supporters or enemies were likely to be out in the streets rioting in protest. And if, as Caelius had hinted, there was actual revolution in the air, then Rome was the last place I wanted to be.
Claudia nodded and smiled. 'Ten days from now, and you will be a man, Meto! But I shall save my congratulations until then. I assume you'll be having some little celebration in the city before he takes his walk in the Forum. Would it be too forward of me to beg an invitation?'
'Will you be in the city, Claudia?'
'I'm afraid so,' she sighed. 'Along with my dear cousins. They're all planning to be in the city to vote this time around. Afraid Catilina might somehow slip through, you know. The actual voting is all up to the men, of course, and usually I don't go to Rome at all at this time of year, but there's no way out of it. It's that house on the Palatine that Lucius left me — I'm planning to rent it out, and the slave who runs the place tells me it's due for some renovations. Well, I'm not about to let one of Lucius's old slaves make the arrangements and spend my money. I shall oversee everything myself. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I suspect I’ll be there most of the month.' She raised her eyebrows and looked at me expectantly.
Then of course you must come to Meto's birthday party,' I said.
'Oh, thank you! I should love to see it. Never having had a son, myself you know…' Her voice trailed off. 'And I shall bring honey cakes!' she added, brightening. 'Meto will like that.' She reached out and touched his shoulder. Meto smiled a bit shyly, then a strange expression crossed his face.
He was watching something down below. I followed his gaze and saw Catilina and Tongilius emerging from the woods onto the road.
Claudia seemed to sense that something was amiss, for I saw her glance oddly at Meto and then felt her eyes on me. 'Perhaps—' I began. 'Perhaps I would enjoy one of those honey cakes, after all.'
'Ah, good, let me see, here's a nice one right on top,' she said, bending over her basket.
I took the cake from her and looked her in the eye as I bit into it. She smiled and nodded, then abruptly looked down towards the road.
'Look
there,' she said. 'Who are those men and where did they come from?'
I started to speak and coughed instead, as the cake seemed to turn to dust in my throat. Meto, seeing that I was helpless, took the cue. 'What men?' he asked innocently.
"Those two men right down there, on horseback. Wherever did they come from?' Claudia furrowed her plump brow, cocked her head, and pulled at a strand of red hair that had escaped from the bun on her head.
Meto shrugged. 'Just two men on horseback.'
'But they're heading towards the north. I didn't see them ride up. Look, you can see the whole length of the Cassian Way coming up from the south, halfway to Rome — oh, I exaggerate, but still, we would have seen anyone approaching for miles. And suddenly two horsemen appear from nowhere.'
'Not really. I saw them riding up,' said Meto matter-of-factly.
'You did?'
'For quite some time. I think it was when you pointed out the wagons with Arretine vases coming over the pass. Yes, I noticed the two horsemen riding up from the south, quite far away. And now look, the wagons have gone about half that distance. That means the horsemen are going twice as fast as the wagons. Is that right, Papa?'
I nodded dumbly, still clearing my throat, and took back my poor opinion of Meto's acting skills.
Claudia remained dubious. 'You saw them riding up all this time — passing the wagons and getting closer?'
Meto nodded.
'And you, too, Gordianus?'
I shrugged and nodded. 'Two horsemen on the Cassian Way,' I said. 'Probably coming up from Rome.'
Claudia was perturbed. 'Why didn't I notice them? Cyclops and Oedipus, my eyes must be getting as weak as Gnaeus's.'
'It's not so odd,' I reassured her. 'You were distracted by our company and simply didn't notice. It's nothing to make a fuss over.'
'I don't like horsemen appearing from nowhere,' she muttered. 'I don't like feeling…' Her voice trailed off, then she managed a smile. 'But you're right, I'm being silly. Just a silly old woman, set in my ways and upset when I'm taken by surprise, and more upset when I realize I'm not as sharp as I like to think I am. Ah, well, have you had enough of the cakes? Here, I'll wrap them up again; mustn't waste them. The gods despise a wasteful man, my father always used to say. I really must be going. There, thank you, Meto, for helping me gather things up.'
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