Catilina's Riddle (66 page)

Now I knew what Rufus had meant when he had said that I might see Catilina's face again.

They had saved it so that it might be taken to Rome and shown to the Senate and the people as proof of his demise. Those who had feared him would have their fears allayed; those who had wished for his triumph would see their wishes shattered; those who might want to emulate him would be given a vivid warning. "I see two bodies, one thin and wasted, but with a swollen head, the other headless, but big and strong," he had told the Senate. "What is there so dreadful about it, if I myself become the head of the body which needs one?" But now the head of Catilina, bloody and torn at the neck, was mounted on a stake outside the tent of his conqueror, of no more use to anyone. The expression of haughty disdain frozen upon his features was wasted on the impervious flies which buzzed about his eyes and lips.

I swallowed hard. Beside me Meto made a peculiar sound, a great sob stifled by the bandage that kept his jaw shut. We paused for a long moment, gazing upon Catilina for the last time. It was Meto who turned

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away first, snapping his reins and kicking his horse to a gallop. He raced through the camp and I followed, past startled soldiers who shook their fists and cursed, and slaves who stooped to pick up their scattered burdens.

Meto did not slow his steed until he was well out of the camp and onto the open road, where the cold gray sky and the naked hills seemed to offer a kind of solace.

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C H A P T E R F O R T Y

raveling south, I found the mood of the countryside no different from when I had traveled north, for we were ahead T of the news that Catilina had been defeated and killed. I had no wish to be the bearer of tidings, welcome or not, and kept my mouth shut at the places where we stopped.

This was hard to do when I heard men speak of the glorious future that Catilina would bring, or heard others make the same weary jokes about the ruining of a Vestal Virgin, or heard others rant against his vile habits and mad schemes. I feared that Meto would feel compelled to shout and argue, and might reopen his wound, but he bore all that was said about Catilina with the taciturn, hard-jawed stoicism of a true Roman.

On the morning of our return, when we at last drew near the farm and the countryside grew more familiar, I felt my spirits lift. A light mist covered the earth, muting the subtle colors of winter and softening the world's sharp edges. The air in my lungs was cold and invigorating. We were almost home. What was done was done, and life could begin again.

Of course there was the matter of confronting the Minotaur, but so long as nothing terrible had taken place in my absence, I almost looked forward to the meeting. At least it would mean an end to the mounting collection of unwanted corpses on my property, and an end to my ongoing displays of wrongheaded deduction.

Meto was glad to be home, too. When we turned off the Cassian Way onto the dirt road, he broke into a gallop, and so did I. A slave was posted on the roof of the stable and stood up to scrutinize us as we approached. Good, I thought; a close watch was being kept even in

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daylight, just as I had ordered. When the slave recognized us, he began to call out, "The Master! And young Meto!"

As we were dismounting in front of the stable, Eco stepped out of the house. I smiled at him, but he did not smile back. He must have noticed Meto's bandage, I thought, and was worried by it. But then Bethesda came running after him. She could not yet have seen Meto's bandage, but her face was red from crying. She ran past Eco, who was walking toward us as if every step caused him pain. She clutched my arms so hard that I thought her nails would tear the sleeves of my tunic.

"Diana!" she said, in a voice hoarse from crying. "Diana is gone!"

Everything changed in an instant, as if night had fallen in the blink of an eye, or the air had somehow frozen solid.

"Gone?" I said. "Do you mean—"

"Missing," said Eco.

"For how long?"

Bethesda spoke in a rush. "Since yesterday. I was with her all morning, and at midday she ate, but after that—it wasn't until the middle of the afternoon that I realized she must be gone. I took a nap—oh, if only I hadn't. When I woke up I couldn't find her. I called for her everywhere, I shouted until I was hoarse, until long after it was dark, but there was no answer and she never came. How could she be lost?

She knows every part of the farm, and she knows better than to go wandering beyond it. I don't understand—"

I looked at Eco. "The well?" I said.

He shook his head. "I looked there, and in every other place I could think of where she might have fallen or hurt herself. The slaves have combed the property from end to end, more than once. There's no sign of her."

"Meto!" cried Bethesda suddenly, seeing his bandage for the first time. She stepped away from me and put her arms around him.

"And the neighbors?" I said to Eco.

"I've gone to see all four of them. They all claim complete ignorance, but who knows? If I had cause to blame one of them, I'd gladly burn down his house to make him tell the truth."

"Who saw Diana last?"

"She wasn't satisfied with her midday porridge and wanted more.

Bethesda was asleep, so Diana took it on herself to go into the kitchen for another helping. Congrio says he teased her about being such a glutton, but gave her another bowl. She ate it there in the kitchen, and then she ran outside to play. But no one seems to have seen her—"

"Meto!" cried Bethesda as he tore himself from her arms and ran toward the house.

"Come, Eco, hurry, before he kills him!" I cried, running after Meto.

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By the time I reached the kitchen, Congrio had already been knocked to the floor. He was on his back, a look of surprised panic in his eyes, with his hands raised to shield his face. Meto wielded a heavy iron poker from the furnace and was swinging it without restraint. The metal made a curiously pleasant sound as it connected with the soft flesh that padded Congrio's body. "Where is she? Where is she?" Meto kept growling through clenched teeth, while Congrio wailed and screamed.

"Meto, I've already questioned him!" protested Eco, who made a move to stop the beating, then jumped back as Meto swung the poker wildly. With Eco out of the way, Meto resumed the beating, striking the plump cook again and again. I didn't have to see his face to know the satisfaction he felt by giving in to such unchecked violence, for I felt it, too. All his despair and bitterness was being vented against the helpless body that kicked and screamed on the floor.

"Papa, stop him! He'll kill the poor slave!" cried Eco.

"As well he might, but not before we find out what he knows," I said. "All right, Meto, enough. Enough!" Holding my hands before my face, I managed to intervene and grab Meto's arm as he raised it to deliver another blow. He fought against me for a moment, then clumsily trans-ferred the poker to his other hand, as if he meant to go on beating Congrio, but Eco was able to wrest the weapon from him, and I was able to hold his arms at his sides long enough for him to gain control of himself. Congrio, meanwhile, lay blubbering and gasping on the floor.

"Torture him, Papa! Make him talk!" snarled Meto.

"Yes, I will if I have to." I turned toward Congrio, intending to deliver the hardest kick I could manage, but the sight he presented was so pathetic I refrained.

"Please, Master, don't hurt me!" he wept, and when Meto moved menacingly toward him he shrieked. "I know nothing!"

"Liar!" I couldn't resist kicking him then. His squealing reaction gave me a taste of Meto's joy. "Liar! I know about you already. You'll be lucky if I let you live after what you've done. Now tell me what's become of Diana, or by Jupiter I'll torture you until you do!"

Congrio was very forthcoming after that.

"We mustn't give ourselves away too soon," I cautioned Meto and Eco as we guided our horses off the Cassian Way. Belbo was also with us, along with ten other slaves, most of them burly strong-armers whom Eco had brought when he came up from Rome, and all of them armed with daggers. Ahead of us, mostly hidden beyond a copse, was the little farmhouse. A plume of smoke rose from the house, which meant that our quarry was probably still about and had not fled to Rome or elsewhere.

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Diana, I prayed, was also within the house, but the thought of how we might find her caused my chest to tighten and made my stomach twist into knots.

"Since you were already here yesterday asking questions, Eco, perhaps they won't be too surprised to see you again. The important thing is to get inside, and then to move very quickly."

"Don't worry, Papa, we talked about all this before we left the house," said Meto. "We know what to do."

In the copse, hidden by the dense, naked branches, the slaves dismounted and tied their horses. Meto, Eco, and I rode on alone. It was the quiet hour after midday, and no one was stirring outside. When we reached the house we dismounted and Eco rapped on the door. An old slave woman with silver hair opened it. "Ah, you," she said, recognizing Eco, then squinting past him to scrutinize Meto and me.

"My father and brother, just returned from a long journey," Eco said. "They've come to ask about my sister, as I did. For their own satisfaction, you understand."

The slave woman nodded uncertainly. "Ah, yes. Well, let me go and tell—"

"Eco, is that you again?" crooned a familiar voice from within. A dim figure appeared inside the dark house and approached us. "Oh, my dear boy, I wish I had news for you, but I fear that nothing—oh, and your father as well. And Meto, wearing an awful bandage!" she said, stepping into the light of the doorway, pushing a handful of frazzled red hair from her face.

"Yes, Claudia, we've come to ask for your help," I said.

"Then poor Diana is still missing?"

"Yes."

"Oh, dear, and I had so hoped that she would turn up at your house before darkness fell last night. You must be so terribly worried."

"We are."

"Especially Bethesda. I've never known a mother's joys myself, nor a mother's sorrows, but she must be utterly distraught! But I'm afraid I have nothing new to tell you. I had my slaves scour the property, just as you asked, Eco, but they found no trace. If you wish, you could send over some of your own slaves to search—just to satisfy yourselves. I can understand that."

"You would allow that, Claudia?"

"Of course."

"Would you let us search inside your stable and your outbuildings?"

"If you wish. I don't see how she could have gotten inside any of those places without my slaves knowing, or how she could stay unseen, unless she's intentionally hiding for some reason—but search if you wish."

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"And would you let us search even inside your house, Claudia?"

Her mask slipped a bit. "Well . . . "

"In your private rooms, in your bedroom, for instance? In places no outsider would ordinarily see?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Gordianus. The child could hardly be in my house without my knowing it, could she?"

"No, I don't imagine she could."

For an instant her eyes grew hard and glittering, then Claudia drew her brows together and pressed her mouth into a sweetly indulgent pout.

"Oh, Gordianus, how distraught you must be to be talking like this.

Certainly, search wherever you wish! Do it right now, to set your mind at ease, so that you can get on with your searching elsewhere."

"We shall," I said, and as swiftly and smoothly as I could, as if I were taking her in my arms to kiss her neck, I spun her around and put my dagger to her throat. She opened her mouth and distended her throat to make a noise, but cringed at the touch of the sharp blade and choked instead. I pulled her out of the house into the cold sunlight, while Meto ran inside and Eco called for the slaves.

We met no resistance. The elderly door slave screamed in alarm, and Claudia's slaves came running, some with daggers or clubs, but when they saw their mistress's predicament they drew back and watched dumbly as my men ransacked the stable and the wine press, the tool sheds and the slave quarters, and then searched the house.

"You're making a horrible mistake," said Claudia.

"The horrible mistake will be yours if you've done anything to harm her," snapped Eco, running into the house to join the others in the search.

"The child is not here."

"But she was brought here," I said. "It's no use lying, Claudia.

Congrio has betrayed you. Go ahead, stamp your foot and struggle; if you cut your throat it'll be your own fault."

She growled, and I felt the vibration of her throat against the blade. "It has nothing to do with me if your cook has been lying to you!" "Not a lie but the truth, Claudia. Yesterday you sent one of your men to my house, a kitchen slave, ostensibly there to trade some of your goods for mine, something that happens all the time, something so common that no one even notices the man coming and going. But in reality he was there to plot your next design with Congrio, something that's happened several times before. According to Congrio, your latest scheme has something to do with poison. That was too much for Congrio and he wanted nothing to do with it, or so he claims, and so your man proceeded to argue with him. No one else was in the kitchen, Eco was out of the house and Bethesda was napping, so they spoke freely in hushed

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voices, until they suddenly looked down to find that Diana had been standing no less than a foot away, listening to them for who knows how long. "They panicked. Congrio stuffed her mouth with a rag and they wound her in a long cloth. Your man had arrived with a handcart. They carried her outside and managed to fit her inside it and tie her down, and then he left as quickly as he could. My watchman claims he saw the man leave, but I think he's lying to keep from being punished, unless he's deaf and half-blind; even bound and with her mouth stuffed, I imagine Diana must have been able to make some noise and to shake the cart. Even so, the man got away without anyone's noticing. My slaves hardly even remembered his being there, he's become such a regular visitor. Your agent, Claudia, conspiring with my cook! So you see, I know the truth, or enough to have tracked Diana to your door. Now where is she?"