Arms of Nemesis (35 page)

'And I suppose it was the will of the god that brought Alexandros to your door in the first place, on the night of the murder?'

'Perhaps we should let Alexandros speak for himself,' said Iaia, who cast a sidelong look at the young Thracian. 'Tell Gordianus what transpired on the night of your master's murder.'

Alexandros reddened, either because he was unused to speaking to strangers or because of the memory of that night. Olympias drew closer to him and laid her hand on his forearm. I wondered at the casual way she displayed her intimacy with a slave in the presence of a Roman citizen. In the sea cave I had caught them unaware in the middle of coitus, and she had been unembarrassed, but fear and surprise had ruled her then and might have overridden her normal judgment. I was more impressed by the public affection and tenderness she willingly gave Alexandros before Iaia and myself. I marvelled at her devotion, and at the same time despaired for her; how could such an ill-begotten love end in anything but misery?

"That night,' Alexandros began, his harsh Thracian accent overshadowed by the intensity with which he spoke, 'we knew that Crassus was on his way. I had never seen him, I was new in the household, but I had heard much of him, of course. Old Zeno told me that the visit was unexpected and had come about on very short notice, and that the master was unprepared, very nervous and very unhappy.'

'Did you know why Lucius was unhappy?'

'Some irregularity in the accounts. I didn't really understand.'

'Even though you helped Zeno sometimes with the ledgers?'

He shrugged. 'I can add figures and make the proper marks, but I seldom knew what it was that I was adding. But Zeno knew, or thought he did. He said that the master had been busy with some very secret business, something very bad. Zeno said the master had done things behind Crassus's back and that Crassus would be angry. That afternoon we were all three busy in the library, going through the accounts. At last the master sent me from the room; I could tell he wanted to say things to Zeno that I shouldn't overhear. Later he sent Zeno away as well. In the stables I asked Zeno what was happening, but he only brooded and wouldn't talk. It began to grow dark. I ate and helped the other stablemen to look after the horses. Finally I went to sleep.'

'In the stables?'

'Yes.'

'Was that where you normally slept?'

Olympias cleared her throat. 'Alexandros usually slept in my room,' she said, 'next to Iaia's, in the house. But that night Iaia and I were here in Cumae.'

'I see. Go on, Alexandros; you were sleeping in the stables.'

'Yes, and then Zeno came to wake me. He carried a lamp and poked at my nose. I told him it couldn't be morning yet; he said it was the middle of the night. I asked him what he wanted. He said that a man had ridden up from nowhere and tethered his horse by the front door, then had gone in to see the master. He said they were both in the library, talking in low voices with the door shut.'

'Yes? And who was this visitor?'

Alexandros hesitated. 'I never saw him myself, not really. You see, that's the strange part. But Zeno said . . . poor Zeno .. .' He furrowed his thick eyebrows and stared intently into space, caught up in the remembrance.

'Yes,' I said, 'go on. What did Zeno tell you? Why did you flee the house?'

'Zeno said he had gone into the library. He had rapped gently on the door and thought he heard his name spoken, so he stepped inside. Maybe he didn't hear his name at all, or maybe the master was telling him to go away; Zeno was like that, he had a habit of stepping in when he wasn't wanted, just to have a sniff at what was happening. He said the master spun around in his chair and told him to get out — yelled at first, then lowered his voice very quickly and cursed him in a whisper.'

'And the visitor?'

'He was standing by the shelves, looking through some scrolls with his back to the door. Zeno didn't really see him, but he saw that he was dressed in military garb, and he saw the man's cloak thrown over one of the chairs.'

'The cloak,' I said.

'Yes, just a simple dark cloak — but one corner had an emblem on it, a seal pinned to the cloth like a brooch. Zeno had seen it plenty of times before; he said he'd know it anywhere.'

'Yes?'

'It was the seal of Crassus.'

'No,' I said, shaking my head. A throb of pain passed through my skull with such power that I finally reached for the cup of willow bark and nepenthes and drank it down.

'No. That makes no sense at all.'

'Even so,' Alexandros insisted, 'Zeno said it was Crassus in the library with the master, and the master's face was as white as a senator's toga. Zeno began to pace up and down in the stables, shaking his head with worry. I told him there was nothing we could do; if the master had got himself into trouble, that was his problem. But Zeno said we should go and stand outside the library door and listen. I told him he was mad and rolled over to go back to sleep. But he wouldn't leave me alone until I got up from the straw and put on my cloak and stepped into the courtyard with him.

'It was a clear night, but very windy. The trees thrashed overhead, like spirits shaking their heads, whispering
no, no
.
I should have known then that something terrible was afoot. Zeno ran ahead to the door and opened it. I followed him.' Alexandros wrinkled his brow. 'I have a hard time remembering all that happened next, it happened so fast. We were in the little hallway that leads to the atrium. Suddenly Zeno backed against me, so hard he almost knocked me down. He sucked in a breath and started blubbering. Over his shoulder I saw a man dressed like a soldier down on his knees, holding a lamp, and beside him was the body of the master, his head all crushed and bloody.'

'And this man was Crassus?' I said, disbelieving.

He shrugged. 'I only glimpsed his face for an instant. Or perhaps I didn't see his face at all; the lamp cast strange shadows and he was mostly in darkness, I think. Even if I had seen him clearly, I wouldn't have recognized him. I told you, I had never seen Crassus. What I remember looking at was the master — his lifeless body; his broken, bleeding face. Then the man put down his lamp and sprang to his feet, and I saw his sword, leaping like a flame in the lamplight. He spoke in a low voice, not frightened, not angry, but cold, very cold. He accused
us
of killing the master! 'You'll pay for this!' he was saying. 'I shall see both of you nailed to a tree!'

'Zeno grabbed me and pulled me out the door, across the courtyard, into the stable. 'Horses!' he was saying. 'Flee! Flee!' I did what he said. We mounted and were out the door of the stables before the man could follow. Even so, Zeno rode like a madman. 'Where can we go?' he kept saying, shaking his head and weeping like a slave about to be whipped. 'Where can we go? The poor master is dead and we shall be blamed!' I thought about Olympias, and remembered Iaia's house in Cumae. I'd been here a few times before, carrying supplies back and forth.

I thought I could find the way in the dark, but it wasn't as easy as I thought.'

'So I myself discovered,' I said.

'We were going too fast, and the wind kept getting stronger, so that we couldn't hear each other shouting, and the fog closed in. Zeno was in a mad panic. Then we took a wrong turn and came to the cliff that overhangs Lake Avernus. My mount knew me, she warned me in time, and even so I almost went tumbling over. But Zeno knew very little about horses. When the beast tried to stop he must have kicked her, and she threw him. I saw him disappear, flying head over heels into the fog. The mist swallowed him up. Then silence. Then I heard a faint, distant splash, like a man falling into shallow water and mud.

'He screamed then. His voice rose up from the darkness — a long, terrifying scream. Then silence again.

'I tried to find a way down to the shore in the darkness, but the trees and fog and shadows baffled me. I called his name, but he never answered, not even a moan. Have I said something wrong?'

'What?'

'The look on your face, Gordianus — so strange, as if you had been there yourself.'

'I was only remembering last night . . .' I thought of Eco and felt a pang of dread. 'Go on. What happened next?'

'Finally I found the way to Cumae. I entered the house without waking the slaves, found Olympias and told her what had happened. It was Iaia's idea to hide me in the cave. Cumae is a tiny village, they could never have hidden me in the house. Even so, you discovered us.'

'Dionysius discovered you first. You should thank the gods that he didn't tell Crassus. Or perhaps you can thank someone else.' I looked sidelong at Iaia.

'Again you insinuate!' Iaia gripped the arms of her chair.

'Credit me with having eyes and a nose, Iaia. This house is full of strange roots and herbs, and I happen to know that aconitum is among them. On the day we consulted the Sibyl I saw it in a jar in the room where you make your paints. I imagine you might also have strychnos, hyoscyamus, limeum—'

'Some of these I keep, yes, but not for murder! The same substances that kill can also cure, if used with proper knowledge. Do you insist on an oath, Gordianus? Very well! I swear to you, by the holiness of the Sibyl's shrine, by the god who speaks through the Sibyl's lips, that no one in this house committed the murder of Dionysius!'

In the vehemence of her oath, she rose halfway to her feet. As she slowly settled into her chair again, the terrace became preternaturally quiet. Even the crashing of the waves below was hushed. The sun had at last risen above the roof of the house, tracing the terrace wall with a fringe of yellow light. A lonely cloud crossed the sun and threw all into shadow again; then the cloud passed, and the heat reflected from the dazzling white stones was warm against my face. I noticed in passing that the pain in my head had vanished, and in its place I felt a pleasant lightness.

'Very well,' I said quiedy, 'that much is setded, then. You didn't kill Dionysius. Who did, I wonder?'

'Who do you think?' said Iaia. 'The same man who killed Lucius Licinius. Crassus!'

'But for what reason?'

'I can't say, but now I think it is time for you to tell me what
you
know, Gordianus. For example, yesterday you sent the slave Apollonius diving off the pier below Gelina's house. I understand you made some startling discoveries.'

'Who told you? Meto?'

'Perhaps.'

'No secrets, Iaia!'

'Very well, then, yes. Meto told me. I wonder if we came to the same conclusion, Gordianus.'

'That Lucius was trading arms to the rebel slaves in return for plundered silver and jewels?'

'Exactly. I think Dionysius may have also suspected some such scandal; that was why he hesitated to reveal Alexandros's hiding place, because he knew that there was a greater secret to uncover. Meto also told me that you discovered certain documents in Dionysius's room - incriminating documents regarding Lucius's criminal schemes.'

'Perhaps. Crassus himself couldn't fully decipher them.'

'Oh, couldn't he?'

A faint tracing of pain flickered through my skull. 'Iaia, do you seriously suggest

She shrugged. 'Why not speak the unspeakable? Yes, Crassus himself must have been involved in the enterprise!'

'Crassus, smuggling arms to Spartacus? Impossible!'

'No, quite disgustingly possible, for a man as vain and greedy as Marcus Crassus. So greedy that he couldn't resist the opportunity to reap a huge profit by dealing with Spartacus — surreptitiously, of course, using poor, frightened Lucius as his go-between. And so vain that he thought it would ultimately make no difference to his cause when he gains the command against the slaves. He thinks himself such a brilliant strategist that it won't matter that he has armed his own enemy with Roman steel.'

'Then you say he poisoned Dionysius because the philosopher was close to exposing him?'

'Perhaps. More likely Dionysius had begun to insinuate blackmail, subtle blackmail, merely asking for a handsome stipend and a place in Crassus's retinue. But men like Crassus will not put up with subordinates who hold a secret over them; Dionysius was too stupid to see that there was no profit in the knowledge he was seeking to exploit. He should have kept his secrets to himself; then he might have lived.'

'But why did Crassus kill Lucius?'

Iaia looked down at her feet, where the sunlight had crept close enough to warm her toes. 'Who knows? Crassus came that night in secret to discuss their secret affairs. Perhaps Lucius had begun to balk at the tasks to which Crassus set him and threatened to expose them both; it would be like Lucius to panic. Perhaps Crassus had discovered that Lucius was cheating him. For whatever reason, Crassus struck him with the statue and killed him, then saw a way to turn even that moment of madness to his advantage, by making it look as if a follower of Spartacus had committed the crime.'

I stared out at the unending progression of waves that proceeded from the horizon. I shook my head. 'Such supreme hypocrisy - it's almost too monstrous to be believed. But why, then, did Crassus send for me?'

'Because Gelina and Mummius insisted. He could hardly refuse to allow an honest investigation of his cousin's death.'

'And how did Dionysius come to have the documents?'

'That we can't be sure of. The only thing we know for certain is that we shall never have an explanation from Dionysius's lips.'

I thought of Crassus's dark moods, his unspoken doubts, his long nights of searching through the documents in Lucius's library. If all was as Iaia had concluded, then Crassus was killer, eulogist, judge, and avenger combined, beyond the power of any of us to punish.

'I see you are not entirely satisfied,' Iaia said.

'Satisfied? I am most dissatisfied. What a waste, what futility, to have put myself in such danger, and not only myself — Eco! All for a bag of silver. Crassus solves all his problems with silver — and why not, when men like me will settle for mere coins. He might as well have sent me the money and allowed me to stay in Rome, instead of dragging me here to take part in his hideous deception—'