See Delphi And Die

by Lindsey Davis

  Helena put a marker in her scroll and let the ends roll together.‘It does make you wonder just how many clients Seven Sights Travel have shed over the past ten years, with nobody noticing… Settle down and rest. You often reach a low point like this in an enquiry, Marcus.’

  Hearing Helena trying to comfort me, Nux climbed up on the bed between us, licking my hand. I looked down at her dark eyes peering at me anxiously from among her lugged fur. She had seen whoever killed Cleonymus. That took us nowhere: one of the disappointments that had awaited my return was hearing that when Young Glaucus and Albia took her on a lead past members of the group, Nux had wagged her tail happily at all of them.

  Bitterly, I put the dog on the floor. Even she was useless.

  Helena set aside the scroll she had been reading and lay down to sleep. She held herself a little apart from me. I knew why that was. My own brow was furrowed. Coming back to Corinth and meeting up with my nephews, Albia, and Glaucus, had reminded us of home.

  Helena and I lay in darkness, each keeping our thoughts private. We were both badly wanting to see our daughters. Finding Aulus in Athens would be no substitute. Winter was approaching; the seas would soon be too dangerous to sail. We had come to Greece to solve a puzzle that now seemed impossible, and we would very soon be trapped here.

  Suddenly the personal cost of this mission seemed too high. We would have quarrelled if we had discussed it, so we both lay in silence, grieving privately.

  Next day the Seven Sights group left. We went along to see them off from the Helios, where they had been staying. Its landlord came out and stood around conveniently; despite their previous wrath at his low standards and brothel-keeping, several gave in and slipped him money. He thanked them with slimy ingratitude. He probably got much bigger tips from the working girls who used his rooms.

  The group were taking a ship direct from the eastern port at Kenchreai. You could walk to the jetty from here. Even for that short trip the Sertorius family rode in a covered wagon. That enabled them to pretend nobody could hear the squeals of their two squabbling teenagers pinching and punching each other, and the continual row between the idiot husband and his former slave wife; she seemed at last to be standing up to his obnoxiousness, but it had created a verbal battlefield. Tall Marinus had dreamed of quails last night, which apparently was an omen that he would be tricked by someone he met en route; Helvia heard this with a round-mouthed ‘Ooh, Marinus!’ while Cleonyma winked at me.

  I was amazed to see they were being organised quite openly by Phineus. Clearly he had no fear of re-arrest. Had he bribed Aquillius, or was he just brazen?

  He and Polystratus were busy counting and loading up the group’s paraphernalia. It was the first time we had seen them in full procession for a journey. Their luggage included far more than just clothing for all weathers, though there seemed plenty of that. They carried with them blankets, pillows, and mattress overlays to improve on the poor bedding that inns provided; they had chamberpots; they had medicine chests, no doubt including flea powders and insect-bite ointments as well as bandages, stomach and eye remedies, foot creams, suppositories, and metallic wax treatments for sexual disease; they had cooking equipment - pots, dishes, goblets, griddles, sawn logs and charcoal, wine, oil, water, spices, salt, vinegar, cabbages, loaves, olives, cheeses, cold meats, and Polystratus’ amphorae of salted fish; they had their own lamps, lamp oil and tinderboxes; they had ropes and a stretcher-board in case of accidents; they had bath oils, wooden-soled slippers, strigils, towels, bathrobes, and tooth powders; they had animal fodder and money chests.

  It seemed cruel to interrupt when Phineus was loading up this mass of stuff, but I accosted him. ‘Couldn’t hold me. Nothing on me,’ he asserted with a bold gap-toothed grin.

  ‘So where have you been since you escaped - or should I say, you were ‘let out’?’

  ‘Looking for my partner. We found each other - isn’t that nice?’

  ‘Did you go across to Delphi?’

  ‘Now why would I do that?’ asked Phineus.

  Polystratus gave me a matching grin. ‘Give up, Falco!’

  ‘I never gave up on a case yet.’ No case before this one had ever gone so cold on me.

  It was a bright, sunny day, but the travellers had assembled like a cohort of soldiers setting off for an endurance camp in the far snows of Pannonia.

  Apart from the Sertorii behind their sealed leather curtains, some were on donkeys and some on foot. They all wrapped themselves in heavy woollen cloaks and several women had added rugs around their shoulders too. Amaranthus wore knee-length riding trousers - although he was walking. At the signal to go, the women shrieked excitedly and everyone donned flat-brimmed Hermes hats.

  Under their cloaks, they checked the money-bags they were carrying on strings around their necks. There was a last-minute delay while Sertorius Niger scrambled out of his coach to search through bags for his travelling backgammon board. Putting, Indus looked up the time pointedly on a portable sundial. Volcasius was already making detailed notes on his waxed tablet.

  We waved them off. Nobody had asked us about Statianus. They did not yet know we would eventually see them all again in Athens, though perhaps the wiser ones assumed it. They just wanted to leave at last. Relief at being allowed to continue their journey had made all of them light-headed. Maybe someone was even happier, thinking he had escaped detection for the murders.

  Helena and I watched them go with a mixture of frustration and melancholy.

  The quaestor had also come to see them off. I announced that we too were leaving.

  ‘I’m going to keep Lampon here, this witness you found,’ insisted Aquillius. Maybe he thought we wanted a household poet. He was wrong.

  ‘You’re welcome to him. Let him give recitals, though. He needs the money.’

  ‘You’re all heart, Falco.’

  ‘I believe in looking after witnesses. In my job, I find so few of them!’

  ‘Give me anything connected with Statianus.’ The quaestor wanted to help. He was pleading with me. ‘Any part of him. Anything we can say is directly associated with the man - I’ll make arrests immediately, I promise you.’

  I knew he meant it. He was no worse, and in some ways much better, than most young men in official posts. He had an amiable personality and had resisted corruption. I never saw him again after we left Corinth. They had a devastating earthquake there the following year; Aquillius was a casualty.

  As for us, without his financial backing, we took far too long to reach Athens. We started out by road, not knowing that the overland route from the Isthmus was one of the worst tracks in the Empire. It wound in and out, high up among precipitous mountain tops, above the Megaronic Gulf. The track was often so narrow and corroded that only sure-footed donkeys in single file could manage to edge along it. Sometimes pack animals failed to keep their footing, and fell over the sheer drop into the sea. This road had been notorious for centuries. Helena said it was where heartless robbers used to lurk, including legendary Sciron, who made travellers wash his feet, then gave them a great kick right off the crag.

  I groaned and said I always liked a good legend. Then I led us down a path to water level at Megara. Helena sold some jewellery, and we took a ship the rest of the way into Piraeus.

  PART FIVE

  ATHENS

  At first sight visitors would doubt that this was the renowned city of the Athenians, but they would not take long to believe it. For the most beautiful things in the world are there… They have festivals of all kinds, and temptations and stimulation of the mind from many different philosophers; there are many ways of amusing oneself, and non-stop spectacles… the presence of foreigners, which all of them are used to and which suits their temperaments, makes them turn their thoughts to agreeable things…

  HERAKLEIDES OF CRETE

  LIII

  Athenae.

  Do not expect a description of the monuments and sights. This is a case report, not some Achilles-to-Zeus trave
l guide.

  LIV

  Of course we saw the Acropolis. There it was, spectacular on its domineering bluff, crammed with monumental gatehouses and gaily painted temples, just as it was supposed to be. Our hearts stopped - mine only for a moment. The others went on squinting into the distance to make out the light which shone off the bronze helmet on the great statue of Athena. I was too busy keeping an eye out for inebriated philosophers, fly-by-night old courtesans, inefficient pickpockets, and loose sheep. Yes, I said sheep.

  As usual, we had landed too late in the evening. By the time we had negotiated for a hire cart at a less than extortionate price, dusk had fallen. We were running out of money. Helena could tap into her father’s banker tomorrow and I knew Pa had a financial contact here, whom I would try to bluff into parting with coinage, but that evening we had only just enough cash left to get our bags hauled into town, with none over for a deposit at an inn. Helena had picked out a four-tower mansio on her trusty map, where we yearned to stay in luxury and recover from the privations of the Elephant at Corinth - but not tonight, my friends.

  We knew where Aelianus lived. Although senators and their families by custom lodge with aristocratic cronies, no one expects a student to lumber himself with being endlessly polite to some old buffer his father knew vaguely, thirty years ago. Our boy had a hired room. Unluckily for him, he had told us where it was. The six of us headed straight there, and since Aulus was out and we were exhausted, we took possession of the place and turned in.

  ‘This is a tip! How can a nicely brought up boy stay here? Mother would be horrified.’

  ‘I bet your father likes the price, though… This bed has no mattress cords. No wonder he stays out all night.’

  In fact Aulus came home about four hours after darkness fell. We knew about it when Nux barked at him. She may not have recognised Aulus, but he knew who she was even in the dark and he growled my name irritably. Like most students, he was not at all surprised to find six people, some of whom he had never met before, fast asleep in his room. He fitted himself into a space between Gaius and Cornelius, chucked his heavier items of clothing into a corner, and fell silent again.

  ‘Who is this man?’ I heard Cornelius whisper to Gaius.

  ‘Total stranger to me. Give him a knee in the bollocks if he tries to bother you.’

  ‘Keep your knees to yourselves - or I’ll have you!’ remarked Aulus, in the crystalline accents of a senator’s son.

  After the briefest of pauses, Gaius feigned an apology. Any friend of Uncle Marcus is… ‘an idiot.’

  With a large sigh, Helena commanded, ‘Please be quiet, all of you!’

  I found myself unable to drift off again once they had disturbed me. When Aulus stumbled in, it had seemed polite to wake up enough to mutter, ‘Hello; it’s us!’ As leader of the party, I had accepted that matters of etiquette were my job; I could not leave it to Nux to greet our host. Now I lay awake, holding Helena gently against my shoulder and occasionally shifting as she kicked out in some bad dream. In her head she was probably still travelling from Corinth. Beyond a shutter, the little owls of Athena took over the city. The level of snoring within the room rose gently, led by the dog; the level of brawling in the streets outside gradually fell. That allowed me to hear the squeaks and scuffles of the Athens rats.

  As we came from Piraeus, I had barely taken in the sights, but my tired brain must have recorded them. Now my first impressions all crowded back. In any city, the street from the port looks dusty and impoverished; it tends to be lined with workshops for peculiar trades and restaurants where not even the locals eat. Now I smiled to myself over the sordid scenes that greeted visitors. Athens was in decline. In fact, Athens must have been declining for three or four centuries. Its golden age had been replaced by the drabbest kind of village life in daytime, and nights of riotous debauchery. I was now in the heart of Greece, the Greece that had sent Rome art, literature, mathematics, medicine, military engineering, myth, law, and political thought. And in Athens, the golden city of Pericles, the famous public spaces might be filled with vibrant life, but the shantytown houses were derelict, rubbish stank out the crystal air, rats scampered underfoot, and the Panathenaic Way was full of wandering sheep.

  An owl shrieked, very close at hand. Since the room now contained seven people, it became perilously hot. Just as I was preparing to do something about it before somebody collapsed and crossed the Styx, I fell back asleep.

  They all survived. Next morning I felt as if I had eaten rabbit shit, but the rest were cheerful. Helena and Albia had gone out to buy breakfast. I could hear the lads playing ball energetically outdoors in the street. On what passed for a balcony, Young Glaucus was discussing short-distance sprint techniques with Aulus.

  I cleaned my teeth with an old meat skewer and a piece of sponge, splashed my face, combed my hair, and turned yesterday’s tunic inside out. Travelling was much like my early years as a run-down informer. Young Glaucus kept himself immaculate but, from his uncombed hair and limp tunic, it looked as though Aulus had taken to the life of a lazy loner. I joined them, saluting my brother-in-law with affection. ‘Greetings, exemplary associate! Well, this is a fine problem you have landed me with.’

  ‘I thought you would be intrigued,’ chortled Aulus. Then the hangover caught up with him; he went pale and clutched his head. Glaucus and I rearranged him in a prone position, then as the balcony was cramped Glaucus went out to exercise. I sat quietly reflective until Aulus felt up to hearing all our news.

  Of Helena’s two brothers, Aulus made me most wary. I never felt sure which way he would jump. Still, it was good to see him again. We had worked together; I had grown fond of him. He was about my height, sturdy, though with a young man’s body - not so hard as me, and bearing fewer scars. He had the family looks, dark eyes and hair, plus the family humour and intelligence. Even in Greece, the land of beards, he had remained clean-shaven like a good Roman. He had always been conservative. Originally he had hated the thought of his sister living with an informer; later, I think he saw my good points. Anyway, he accepted that our marriage was a fact, especially after we had children. He was a cautious uncle to Julia and Favonia, still too raw to be comfortable with very young children.

  There had been problems finding a career for him. He should have gone into the Senate; still could, if he wanted to. The Camilli had had a relative who disgraced himself, which by extension disgraced them. That did not help; then Aulus and his brother Quintus quarrelled over who would marry an heiress. Quintus won her. Aulus lost more than the rich wife, for bachelors don’t win elections, so he sulkily gave up on the Senate. He was rootless temporarily, then surprised me by becoming my assistant. During a case where we acted as prosecutors in the Basilica Julia, he decided to become a lawyer. I joked that for a man who complained that my career was seedy, he had chosen one even more polluted. But a legal career would be better than none (and much better than mine.) The senator sent him off to Athens before Aulus had a chance to dither. But his reaction when he heard of the murders at Olympia showed that his time working with me had stuck him with a love of mysteries.

  ‘Let’s not talk about the murders until Helena returns. So, how is the academic life in Athens, Aulus?’ He sat up slowly. ‘This will be disgusting, I see.’

  ‘Athens,’ declared Aulus, working his brain into use, ‘is absolutely full of pedagogues, all specialists. You can choose any branch of philosophy. Pythagorean, Peripatetic, Cynic, Stoic, or Orphic.’

  ‘Avoid all of them. We are Romans. We despise thought.’

  ‘I certainly avoid the dirty ones who dress in rags and live in barrels!’ Aulus had always been fastidious. ‘Men with big beards and big brains teach absolutely everything - law, literature, geometry - but what they are best at…’ He slowed down again, lost for words temporarily.

  I helped out. ‘Is drinking?’

  ‘I knew how to party already.’ He closed his eyes. ‘But not all night and every night!’

  I
let him rest for a moment. Then I asked, ‘Want to tell me about your tutor? I gather he’s called Minas, and has a stupendous reputation.’

  ‘Stupendous stamina anyway,’ Aulus admitted.

  ‘Was that why you latched on to him?’

  ‘He found me. Tutors lurk in the agora, looking for newly arrived Roman innocents whose fathers will pay fees. Minas chose me; next thing I knew he had persuaded Father’s banker to pay him directly: leave it to me, dear Aelianus; I will arrange everything; you will be troubled by nothing!’

  ‘For heavens’ sake!’

  ‘I am just a lump of dough, thumped breathless daily.’

  ‘Fight back before the pace kills you! He recognised your senatorial stripes; you should have travelled incognito.’ I saw it all. ‘He assumes your loving papa is a multi-millionaire. Now Minas can have a really good time - which Decimus is paying for.’

  ‘I haven’t worn purple stripes since I left Ostia. He can just spot a young Roman.’

  ‘It’s all in the haircut, ‘I informed him sagely.

  ‘He earns his money, Marcus.’ Aulus grinned. ‘He takes me to the very best dinner parties, sometimes several in an evening. He introduces fabulous women and exotic boys. He shows me drinking games, dancing girls, flautists and lyre-players - and then we talk. We talk at length, and about all moral issues - though in the morning I remember not a word.’

  ‘I must point out, Aulus, your mother has paid for me to come here and see what you are up to.’

  ‘Then I retract!’ he chortled. ‘I deny mentioning dancing girls.’

  He subsided into a weak heap. I gazed at him, impressed. ‘So, Aulus Camillus Aelianus, son of Decimus, tell me: have you learned any law yet?’

  Then Aulus Camillus Aelianus, prospective top-class barrister, looked at me without guile. Before he put his throbbing head back into his trembling hands, he just smiled regretfully.