Nemesis

Anacrites jumped on it: 'Was that after appearing before an Arbitration Board?'

'Not necessary in a foreign province,' Albia sneered. 'The governor has full jurisdiction. Frontinus approved it. Didius Falco and Helena Justina adopted me.'

'So formal?' So necessary, with people like him out to get us.

'Well, there you are, Anacrites. You don't know everything about Falco!'

Though I grinned at the way she attacked him, I kept absolutely still. I was standing in shadow, by a great tangle of foliage supported on some kind of obelisk. Anacrites' eyes wandered one way and another. I reckoned he suspected I was somewhere watching and listening.

'You talk as if you think I am pursuing Falco! He and I are colleagues, Albia. We have worked together many times. In the year of the Census, we worked very hard in a perfectly good partnership; the Emperor congratulated us. I remember that as a happy experience. I feel very affectionate towards Marcus Didius.'

'Oh he loves you too!' Albia chopped the subject off. 'Tell me about Antonia Caenis and Istria. Why did she care so much about where she came from? Was she hoping to find her ancestors?'

'That I don't know. Perhaps she was. We all have a yearning to discover our background, don't we?' Anacrites' question was incongruous from him.

'I think what matters is the person we are now.'

'That sounds like Helena Justina talking.'

'She speaks good sense.'

'Oh yes; I too admire her immensely.'

'Are you jealous of Falco for having Helena?'

'Certainly not. It would be inappropriate.'

'Why are you not married?'

'Never seemed to find the time.'

'Don't you like women? Do you prefer men?'

'I like women. My work tends to mean keeping very much to myself.'

'Not many friends then? Or no friends at all? You were a slave too -like Caenis. Do you know about your own family?'

'I have some idea.'

'Really? Did you ever meet them?'

'My earliest memory is being among the palace scribes.'

'So you must have been taken away from your parents very young? Was that hard?'

'I never knew anything different. Where I found myself, we were all the same. I enjoyed my training. It seemed normal.'

'So – - I always want to ask people this – - don't you want to try to find your relatives? If anyone could do it, a spy should be able to.'

'I suppose you ask this question because you feel a driving need to find your own people?'

'Oh I shall never discover who I first belonged to. I accept that. I was orphaned in the British Rebellion. I'd like to think I am a mysterious British princess – that would be so romantic, wouldn't it? But I don't have red hair and the poor people I grew up with firmly believed I was a Roman trader's child. I suppose there were circumstances that suggested it, back when they found me. Because of the terrible events and confusion, that will be all I ever know. I am realistic. The uncertainties can never be cleared up, so some avenues in society are closed to me.'

'Is that why you are unhappy, Albia?'

'No, it's because men are deceitful pigs who use people for convenience then look after their own interests.'

'Camillus Aelianus?'

'Oh, not just him!'

'It is sad to hear a young girl speak so bitterly.'

'Now who is being romantic?'

'I suppose your anger is because Aelianus betrayed your hopes and married Hosidia… Hosidia what? Does she only have one name?'

'Her family know her as Meline, but "Hosidia Meline" – - a Roman name then a Greek one – would sound like a freed slave. She is not one, of course. Some people despise professors, but it goes without saying, they wouldn't have got to be professors if they were poor. Minas must have a prosperous family if he went to Athens to learn law. Still "Meline" wouldn't do, not among senators. Vespasian may have got away with his mistress, but he is an unusual character. The Camilli have to look respectable.'

'I am very impressed, Albia. How did you dig all this out?'

'That's my secret. I've watched Falco. I could do his work. I could do yours.'

'I would be charmed to have you – - but, unfortunately, we don't use women in the intelligence service.'

'Yes you do. I've heard of Perella, the dancer. There was a lot of talk about Perella in Britain. You gave her an assignment to eliminate a corrupt official.'

'Oh really?'

'Anacrites, don't bluff.'

'I know Perella, certainly. She is a superb dancer.'

'She cut a man's throat. To get rid of him and avert a public scandal. Everyone knew you sent her.'

'I heartily deny that rumour! What a slur on the integrity of our beloved Emperor and the high ethos of his staff. Don't spread this story, please, or I shall be forced to impose a gagging order… Anyway, you are much too sweet to want to do work like that.'

'I would not want to do it, but I would like to know how. Skills give you confidence and power.'

'I would say you have quite enough confidence, young lady. And you had better be kept away from power!'

'Spoilsport.'

'There you sit, looking neat, thoughtful and demure. That, I am sure, is how your adoptive parents are bringing you up. Falco and Helena would be shocked to hear the way you have talked to me.'

'Regretful, maybe – but not surprised.' She was only half right; I was startled by the way she took the spy on.

'Well, I am shocked, Albia.'

'You're easily shocked then. Why? You do filthy work. You are a spy and you co-operate with the Praetorian Guards. That means unfair arrests, torture, intimidation. Nothing I have said is so very outrageous, just honest. Life made me hard. Harder than the average Roman maiden of my new father's rank, or some pampered girl brought up in higher circles. I'm harder even than the daughters of poor craftsmen, who have to work in the family business, but who are free to chatter away their days until some dumb husband claims them. I come from the streets. I am sure you poked about and learned that about me.'

'Why ever would I investigate you, my dear?'

'It's what you do. To put pressure on Didius Falco.'

'That's a myth – and libel.'

'Better hire an informer then, to make your case in court… So you say you are above jealousy? Why then, Anacrites, do you do stupid things like stealing that case Falco and Petronius worked so hard on? They had their teeth into it, and are perfectly capable.'

Anacrites jumped up in a spurt of irascibility. 'Olympus! If the Modestus enquiry means so much to them, that ridiculous pair can have it back. There was nothing underhand; it just seems a suitable case for my own organisation! A normal redistribution of the workload, once I was available to supervise.'

'So the terrible Claudii don't have some hold over you?'

'Who thinks that? Don't be ridiculous!' The spy was pacing about in the courtyard. Albia, my dogged, darling fosterling, stayed where she was. Briefly, Anacrites put both hands on either side of his forehead, as if troubled again mentally. 'Falco asked me just now how the case was going. He was satisfied with my answer.'

'I doubt that.'

Anacrites stopped. 'Did Falco put you up to this?'

'Rubbish. He would be frothing at the mouth if he realised you were talking to me. What – out here in the dark, away from the company, a young girl who has only just begun to go to adult parties and a man in a position of public authority, her host, maybe thirty years her senior?'

'Quite right!' Anacrites' voice was clipped. He held out an arm formally. 'I have enjoyed our talk, but I should return you to our fellow guests. Come!'

It was Albia's turn to stand up, swishing her skirts to put them back in order. She kept out of reach. 'I shall return myself, thank you. If we went back together, after so long away from the couches, my parents would be bound to think you had been making dreadful overtures.'

'Your father makes his own crazy decisions about me – - though I would hate Helena Justina to suppose I harbour guilty thoughts.'