Roman blood

'What chance do I have now? Even if I somehow escape them in court, they'll find me afterwards and have their way with me, just as they did with my father.'

'Not necessarily,' Rufus argued. 'Not if Cicero is able to expose the lies of Capito and Magnus in court.'

'But to do that he'll have to drag in the name of Chrysogonus, won't he? Oh, yes, there's no way to pick the fleas without wrestling the dog, and no way to do that without pulling at the master's leash. The dog may snap, and the master isn't going to like being publicly embarrassed by an upstart advocate. Even if he wins the case, your precious Master Chick-pea will only end up with his head on a stick. Don't tell me that there's an advocate in Rome who's willing to run the risk of spitting in Sulla's face. And if there is such a man, he's far too stupid to handle my case.'

Rufus and Tiro were both exasperated. How could Roscius say such a thing about Cicero, their Cicero? Roscius's fears meant nothing to them; their faith in Cicero was absolute.

But I feared that Sextus Roscius was right. The case was exactly as dangerous as he had described it. Someone had already made a threat on my life (a fact I intentionally had not mentioned under Caecilia's roof). If they had not done so to Cicero it was only because he was at that time still one step removed from the investigation, and a man with more powerful connections than my own.

Still, there was something disingenuous in Roscius's words. Yes, his case was a dangerous one and pursuing it could incur the wrath of the mighty. But what could that matter to him, if his only alternative was a hideous death? By fighting the case, by arming us with the truth that could prove his innocence and the guilt of his persecutors, he had everything to gain: his life, his sanity, perhaps even the reversal of his father's proscription and the return of his estates. Could he have sunk to such a level of hopelessness that he was paralysed? Can a man become so demoralized that he longs for defeat and death?

'Sextus Roscius,' I said, 'help me to understand. You learned of your father's death shortly after it occurred. His body was returned to Ameria and you began the funeral rites. Then soldiers came, announcing that he had been proscribed, that his death was an execution, not a murder, and that his property was forfeit to the state. You were forced from your home and stayed with friends in the village. There was an auction in Rome; Capito, or quite likely Chrysogonus, buys up the property. Did you know then who had killed your father?' 'No.'

'But you must have suspected.' 'Yes.'

'Very well. Once ensconced, Capito graciously invited you back to live on the estate, allowing your family to occupy a ramshackle house away from the villa. How did you bear this humiliation?'

'What could I do? The law is the law. Titus Megarus and the town council went off to petition Sulla himself on my behalf I could only wait.'

'But finally Capito threw you off the estate altogether. Why was that?'

'I suppose he'd finally had enough of me. Maybe he started feeling guilty.'

'But by that time you must have realized without a doubt that Capito himself was involved in your father's murder. Did you threaten him?'

He looked away. 'We never came to blows, but our arguments were fierce. I told him he was a fool to make himself so comfortable in the big house, that he'd never be allowed to keep it. He told me I was no better than a beggar, and I should kiss his foot for the charity he showed me.' He gripped the arms of his chair and his knuckles turned white. He ground his teeth in a sudden fury. 'He said I'd die before I got the land back. He said I was lucky not to be dead already. He kicked me out, at least that's what it looks like, but the truth is I was fleeing for my life. Even at Titus's house I wasn't safe; I could feel them watching the house after dark, like nighthawks biding their time. That's why I had to come to Rome. But even here I wouldn't be safe on the open streets. This room is the only place I'm safe. And they won't even leave me in peace here! I never thought it would come to this, that they'd drag me to the courts and tie me up in a sack. Can't you see, all the power is on their side? Who knows what sort of lies this Erucius will come up with? In the end it's only his word against Cicero's. Whom do you think the judges will side with if it come down to offending the dictator? There's nothing you can do!' Suddenly he was weeping.

Caecilia Metella made a face as if she had eaten something disagreeable. Without a word she rose from her chair and strode out the door, with the slave girl and her peacock fen following behind. Rufus jumped up, but I motioned for him to stay.

Roscius sat with his face in his hands. 'You are a, strange man,' I finally said. 'You are wretched, yet somehow I can't pity you. You stand close to a horrible death, in a place where most men would tell any lie to save themselves, and yet you omit telling the truth that alone could save you. Now that the truth is known you admit it and have no reason to lie, and yet… You make me doubt my own instincts, Sextus Roscius. I'm confounded, like a hound who scents a fox in a rabbit hole.'

He slowly lifted his head. His face was twisted with loathing, distrust, and the fear that lurked always in his eyes.

I shook my head. 'Talking to you exhausts me. You give me a headache. I only hope Cicero's head is stronger.' We rose to leave. I turned back. 'There was something else,' I said. 'A trifle, really. About a young whore named Elena. Do you know whom I mean?'

'Yes. Of course. For a while she lived in the house after Capito took it over.'

'And how did she come to be there?'

He stopped to think. At least the weeping had ended.

'Magnus and Glaucia. found her in the city, I think. I suppose my father must have purchased her some time before, but had left her in the brothel owner's keeping. After the auctions Magnus claimed her as his property.'

'She was with child, I believe.'.

He paused. 'Yes, you're right.'

'Whose child?'

'Who knows? She was a whore, after all.' 'Of course. And what became of her?' 'How should I know?' 'I mean, after she had the baby.'

'How should I know?' he said again, angrily. 'What would you do with a whore and a newborn slave child if you were a man like Capito? They've probably both been sold at market long ago.'

'No,' I said. 'Not both. At least one of them is dead, buried close by your father's grave in Ameria.'

I watched him carefully from the doorway and waited, but he made no response.

We walked back towards Caecilia's quarters in silence. From the corner of my eye I could see that Tiro dragged his feet, growing more anxious as we drew close to departing. My head was too full of Sextus Roscius to deal with him, but at last, as we returned to Caecilia's wing, I began to consider what flimsy excuse I might contrive to set him free to go in search of the girl.

But Tiro was ahead of me. He suddenly stopped and reached about himself with the air of a man who has lost something. 'By Hercules,' he said, 'I've left my stylus and tablet behind. It will only take a moment to fetch them — unless I didn't have them with me when you interviewed Roscius, and left them somewhere else altogether,' he added, grasping at some way to prolong his absence.

'You had them with you,' Rufus said with a faintly hostile edge in his voice. 'I remember seeing them in your hands.'

I shook my head. 'I'm not sure about that. At any rate, you'd better go back and see if you can find them, Tiro. Take your time. It's too late for Rufus to get anything done in the Forum today, and the sun is still too fierce to go hurrying back to Cicero's house. I think that Rufus and I may prevail on our hostess to entertain us in her garden for a while, so that we may take a respite from this heat.'

Caecilia, in fact, was unable to join us; the eunuch Ahausarus explained that the interview with Sextus Roscius had exhausted her. Though she was indisposed, she gave us the use of her servants, who scurried about the peristyle moving furniture out of the sun into the shade, fetching cool drinks, and doing their best to make us comfortable. Rufus was lisdess and on edge. I approached him again about the party to be held the following night at the house of Chrysogonus.