Sejanus

He'd been looking over his shoulder, obviously, and the incoming cart had knocked him down and rolled over his back before they could stop it. It may've been empty, but the iron wheel had done a thorough job. He lay half underneath, pinned down and still twitching. The two youngsters on the box were staring at what was left of him in horror. The cart oxen, on the other hand, didn't look too concerned. My sympathies were with them: the bastard had deserved all he got. I was just sorry I hadn't been the one to give it to him.

I bent down to inspect the body: Ganymede, right enough. His back was broken, and his ribs. He'd stopped twitching now, and you didn't get deader. Then I looked up.

'He ran straight out in front of us, sir!' The first lad — the driver — said. He was shaking. His mate had leaned to one side and was being quietly sick onto the ground. 'We couldn't do nothing about it! Honest!'

Yeah, well, there was a certain poetic justice here. Sophocles would've approved.

'Hasta and Pertinax?' I said.

The kid swallowed, and nodded.

'You recognise him?' We'd got Ganymede out from underneath the wheel and laid him beside the gate.

Hasta and Pertinax looked at each other, then shook their heads. I felt sorry for them: they were just kids, no more than sixteen, and without enough whiskers between them for one decent shave.

'I've seen him around, sir, sure.' That was Pertinax, the one who'd lost his dinner over the side of the cart. He was still looking pretty pale. So was his brother, although some of it could've been the hangover. 'But I don't know who he is.' He swallowed, with a sidelong look at Ganymede's remains. 'Was.'

'Never mind, son,' I said. 'Don't let it worry you.' Ah, well. Maybe one of the other carters could help. Problem was, the sun was down by now and most of them had left. Delivery schedules don't wait for corpses, seemingly, and like Valens had said carters don't hang around when they scent trouble. At least Ganymede wouldn't be parting any more scalps this side of the Styx.

Just then Surdus came up with his wax tablet. He'd been checking the carts out of the gate. Now, it seemed, his work was over for the night and he had time to indulge a little personal curiosity. I stepped aside and he looked down at what the two youngsters had left of our killer.

'What about you, granddad?' I asked him. 'You any ideas?'

'What's that?'

Jupiter! It had to be Surdus, didn't it? I put my hand to his good ear and yelled:

'DO…YOU…KNOW…WHO..?'

He stopped me with a beautiful smile.

'I can't hear you, sonny,' he said. 'I'm a bit deaf. But if you want to know who this is his name's Crito. Rubrius Fabatus's head slave, from the villa up the road.'

Rubrius Fabatus I didn't know at all; but Crito, now. Crito was different. That name rang a faint bell.

Who the hell had mentioned a Crito?

19

By the time I got back home Marcina had been in touch. Lippillus had woken up.

'Thank the gods!' I said when Bathyllus told me. 'First thing tomorrow morning you buy the biggest ram you can find and send it round to the temple of Asclepius with my compliments. Okay, little guy?' Junia Torquata would've been proud of me. Instant conversion. But if Asclepius had swung this then he deserved more than just a thank you.

'Yes, sir.' Bathyllus was beaming all over his face. 'Although I don't think Asclepius is fond of rams.'

'Yeah? What, then?'

'Cocks, sir.'

Ah, well. To each his own. 'Whatever. A pair. Five. Do it, little guy, but make sure they're the best you can get.'

'Isn't it marvellous news, Marcus?' Perilla appeared from the direction of the dining room. She was radiant.

'Yeah, the old guy certainly worked his fillet off for us.' I hugged her and planted a smacker dead centre between nose and chin. 'When did it happen?'

'About an hour after you left. Latinius came round to tell us.'

'He…uh…he say what he was doing at the time? Lippillus, I mean?' It didn't much matter now, of course, with Ganymede — Crito — part of history's glowing pageant, but I was curious.

'No, he didn't.' Perilla had turned icy. 'And Marcus, if you even think of bothering either him or Marcina with…'

'Okay. Okay.' I held up my hands, one of which was occupied with the cup of Setinian Bathyllus had poured for me. 'Just a thought. Forget it.'

'Damn right I'll forget it!' Jupiter, but the lady was peeved! 'If it wasn't that he'd asked for you specially I'd…'

'He asked for me? Really?'

'Marcina did mention it. But she also said that although you'll be welcome in the morning one word out of place and she will personally murder you. And frankly, Corvinus, if she doesn't then I will.'

I swallowed. 'Point taken, lady. No crime, not a whisper. You have my solemn pledge.'

'Good.' Her voice thawed. 'Sarpedon is delighted. He says the chances for recovery now are much better.'

Hey, great! If the old misery-guts was actually showing a bit of optimism then Lippillus was really out of the woods. I drained the cup and got Bathyllus to pour me another.

'So.' Perilla straightened her mantle. 'How did you get on at the Latin Gate?'

'I found the guy who did it. He's dead.'

Her eyes widened. 'Oh, Marcus!'

'Nothing to do with me. Or not much, anyway. It was an accident.' I told her the story. 'So now I've got two more names to add to the list. Rubrius Fabatus and Crito.' There was that itch again. Who the hell had I been talking to recently who'd mentioned a Crito..?

'Do they mean anything to you?' Perilla made room for me on the couch. I lay down and put my free arm round her shoulders.

'Uh-uh. Fabatus is obviously rich enough to have a villa outside the city boundaries, but he's just a name. At the moment, anyway. Crito, now…' Shit, where had I heard that name? Or was I imagining things? I shrugged. 'Ah, forget it. It doesn't matter. I'm just glad Lippillus is going to be okay.'

'He isn't, yet.' She snuggled against me.

'Oh yes, he is. Asclepius has got his cocks, or he will have tomorrow. He wouldn't back out of the deal now.'

'Marcus, I'm not sure you should be flippant about these things.'

'Who's being flippant? It's good old Roman practice. Contract fulfilled, both sides. Even a Greek god like Asclepius has to understand basic business etiquette if he wants to stay solvent this side of Corinth. Speaking of which,' I kissed her, 'bed. I've had a long day.'

'What has bed got to do with contracts?'

'Nothing, so far as I know. It's what's called an anacoluthon.'

Perilla was laughing. 'Corvinus, that's nonsense! That isn't an anacoluthon! An anacoluthon is…'

I never did find out what an anacoluthon was; but by the time we'd come up for air it didn't seem all that important.

Lippillus still looked like death warmed up, but at least he was awake and sensible.

'Hey, Corvinus!' he said as I edged cautiously round the bedroom door. His voice was barely a whisper. 'Thanks for coming.'

The room was pretty crowded already. Sarpedon was there, but he'd finished doing whatever doctors do for recovering patients; I could see he'd left some evil-looking mixture in a cup by the bed. And Marcina, of course, had followed me in. No sharp instrument at the ready, as far as I could tell, but if I broke my promise she'd probably use her bare hands.

At least she looked like she'd had a night's sleep, and if she hadn't been exactly friendly when she answered the door the temperature was a whisker or two above freezing. Maybe I'd come through this after all. If so, then it was more than I deserved.

'How's things, pal?' I eased myself on to the stool next to the bed.

Lippillus gripped my arm. 'Marcus, listen! The man you're after is called Crito. He's head slave to Rubrius Fabatus, who's got a suburban villa down the Latin Road just before the Asinaria crossroads.'