“Anyway, I left in a hurry and followed her outside. I still wasn’t sure if she’d seen me. She was going back the same way she came-heading straight for her house. After I trailed her for a block, it just seemed more important to stay with the Syrian. So I turned back.”
“What happened next?”
“I walked back in the tavern, and tried to spot the innkeeper. He’s different from the whoremaster, it’s a separate business. He was watching a dice game near the stairway, so I joined in and made a few throws.”
“You gambled, too?”
Bilicho grinned in return. “Part of the act. I won a sestertius. I played for two rounds, and then stood up to talk to him. I was pretending to be a messenger for some big-shot merchant.
“ ‘Excuse me, sir, but I could tell from your air of authority that you’re the proprietor here.’ I could’ve been running for office, I was so greasy. He stuck out his little pigeon chest, and puffed himself up.
“ ‘Yes, I am. What can I do for you?’
“I made a show of looking around the room. Well, part of it was for show, and part of it was real. I didn’t want to be overheard, and I wanted him to know it.
“ ‘I’m here on a mission of some secrecy for a … businessman. I have a message for the gentleman from the East. The one upstairs.’ I was sure there wouldn’t be two traveling Easterners at Lupo’s Place, even if there were more in Londinium.
“ ‘Ah, you mean the Syrian gentleman? Vibius Maecenas?’
“I landed on the name like I’d already known it. ‘Of course, who else?’ I elbowed him a bit to be chummy.
“He leaned against me. ‘You know that he’s here on the Emperor’s business.’
“I dug my elbow in deeper and nodded. ‘And you know, I’m sure, he’s to marry Claudia Catussa.’ He nodded back, as smug as a bookmaker on collection day.
“ ‘So may I see the gentleman? It’s rather urgent.’
“The innkeeper turned red. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait’. He’s with-er-one of the girls right now. I think they call her ‘Stricta.’ It means ‘tight’, you know.’ ”
Bilicho frowned, and his chin stuck out like it was looking for something to fight.
“Well, I told him I knew Latin better than he did, and that I’d wait for a while until the ‘gentleman’ was disposed to see me. The Syrian certainly hadn’t wasted any time-barely fifteen minutes since Claudia left, and he’d already picked out the most expensive whore.”
“How do you know she’s the most expensive?”
He turned bright red. “I asked.”
I ignored the implications. “Then what happened?”
“Nothing. For an hour or so. Claudia left as the sun was setting, and here it was the second hour of night and I was hungry and bored, waiting to see this Maecenas. The innkeeper didn’t know anything else, beyond that Maecenas was rich, thick with Domitian, and here on some errand of mystery.
“I decided to leave and come back home. But when I walked through the tavern door-and after spending time in that dump, the night air was a real blessing-I heard some strange noises from the rear of the building.”
I raised my eyebrow again.
“It wasn’t that,” he added, with a slight blush. “Unless Lupo’s trying something new. This sounded like-I don’t know-something scraping the walls or the floors. And something heavy, walking very slowly. It was odd-odd enough to make me want to find out more.”
“And?”
“I started walking toward the back. There’s a small alley behind the building-they probably have a rear exit. The noises got louder as I walked closer, and then stopped. Then I hear what sounds like a horse stomping, and a kind of muffled squeak, and this time toward the road to the west, on the other side of the building. Then all of a sudden there’s a scream and a shout from the tavern, and I ran back inside. Who do you think I saw?”
“The Syrian?”
“No-Rhodri. He was standing in a face-off with some drunken soldiers. The natives in the place were moving to his side of the room-it was a real little war. One of the Romans pushed Rhodri, and he punched back, and all hell broke loose. I ducked, fortunately, because someone threw a stool at me. Then I made my way to a quiet corner where the innkeeper was hiding.
“ ‘What happened?’ I asked.
“ ‘That Rhodri. Always after trouble with the Romans. And he’s still in heat for the little blonde bitch. She’s pretty, all right, but why the fuss? And who’s going to pay for the damages?’ I left him wailing and counting up the broken dishes and furniture.
“The real fighting lasted maybe five minutes-typical tavern brawl. Rhodri got in his licks and then sprinted upstairs. Two of his friends stayed at the bottom of the stairs, so I didn’t follow.
“Finally, Lupo himself-the whoremaster-came out of the shadows and roared-that was enough to scare shitless anyone left standing. He’s a great, big, ugly monster with one eye and a mass of scars-looks like the Cyclops, but not as handsome.
“That calmed it down, and just in time. The tension between the Romans and the natives in that place was like Greek fire-anything could have set it off. I waited for a few minutes to see if Rhodri was coming down or not. I figured he wasn’t up there to inspect the rooms. His men were getting nervous, but he never showed, and I was wondering what happened with the Syrian. So I decided to go back outside.
“I crept over to the rear of the building, listening for more noises. Nothing. It was too dark to see clearly in the alley, but I could make out what looked like some tracks going around the back and toward the western road.
“Well, call it a hunch. But I wanted to follow those tracks and see where they led. It was mostly all guess work-I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and couldn’t smell a damn thing other than the pig shit on my boots. I didn’t even know what I was following.
“Soon enough, I wound up in the middle of nowhere, in a dark country meadow, tracking what I thought was a horseman way up in the distance. But I couldn’t be sure. By the time I got to that tree where I stashed my purse, I’d lost the trail.”
“When did the soldiers find you?”
“They didn’t find me, I found them.” He chuckled. “I saw the earth open up and figured it was a mithraeum. Supposed to be some evil-worshipping underground cult, where all the young men get deflowered. Anyway, I knew I was in way over my head, and heard several voices, including Avitus’.
“I figured I’d better be quiet until we talked, and I was pretty sure Avitus would bring you up there if he recognized me. Then I saw those two lumbering giants. They couldn’t find piss in the Cloaca Maxima. I thought up a story about being robbed, stuck my purse in the crook of that tree, and let myself be caught.”
I rubbed my eyes and grinned at Bilicho. “You always manage to surprise me.”
His mouth twisted into a misshapen smile. “The day I stop, kick me out of the house. I’ll be no good to you. Are you going to Agricola?”
I frowned. “Maybe. I’d like to make sure he’s all right-we haven’t spoken since before Saturnalia.”
Bilicho yawned like a shaggy hippopotamus. “Sleep first, then decide.”
I sank on the couch and yawned in return, then saw what was on the table and flung myself back up. Bilicho checked to see if I’d sat on Draco’s gladius.
We pulled the basket chairs around the table and moved in closer. I opened the fragment of papyrus and anchored each of the ends down with a lamp. The paper had been torn diagonally. From its size, and the quality of the papyrus, it looked like a formal letter, the kind that usually arrives with military orders or other command messages. A dollop of red wax remained at the top edge.
“His name is the only full word we have-here at the top,” I muttered. “This looks like ‘leg’ afterward-probably legatus. Hmm. That would declare him an official emissary. Here’s the next line-”
“-erio Domitiani. By the order of Domitian!”