Barnabas led me into the red-paneled room off the garden. He set a lamp on a small table and left. I had plenty of time to study the nymphs and satyrs on the walls before Clodia appeared in the doorway. Her hair was unpinned and hung down past her shoulders. She wore a transparent white robe belted only at the waist, so that it was open between her breasts. The naked patch of flesh shimmered in the red light reflected off the walls. She smiled wearily.
"If you wanted to stay, Gordianus, why did you leave? Ah yes, to take Bethesda home. But now you're back. Did someone at the party catch your eye?" She moved sinuously toward me, her eyes heavy-lidded, a faint smile on her lips.
"You had a slave tortured today for no reason."
The lids became heavier. The smile stiffened. "That again? Please, Gordianus, surely a man of your age has accustomed himself to the ways of the world."
"Some things a man never gets used to. Lies, deceptions, conspiracy. "
"What are you talking about?"
"And bribery, of course. That's what the silver was for, wasn't it? Not for purchasing slaves to testify, but an outright bribe, nothing more or less-so that when the time came I would do whatever you wanted. The man whose honesty was boasted of by Cicero himself-that's why you wanted me in the first place, thinking I'd come in handy somehow or other. Ah, yes: we'll throw the fellow in Cicero's face on the last day of the trial. Let Cicero spin out his oration, then have this fellow who Cicero says is honesty personified take the stand and make Cicero look like an idiot. Did you think you could buy me with silver? Or have you
never met a man whom silver, or that smile of yours, couldn't purchase?" "Really, Gordianus, it's awfully late in the evening -" "-and late in the trial for me to be upsetting your scheme. The
supposed delivery of the poison at the Senian baths-were you behind
that as well?"
"Don't be absurd!"
"Perhaps it was a part of your scheme, perhaps it wasn't. But what-ever your intention, something went wrong. The evidence against Caelius that you hoped to capture, or manufacture, never came together. You realized that the mere allegation that Caelius wanted to poison you was too thin to impress the judges. So you came up with this further scheme. How did you know there would be poison in my house? Or did Bethesda just happen to volunteer the knowledge, and you instantly saw how to make use of it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I told you, Gordianus, it's
late-"
"Did you merely fake the symptoms? Your brother's physician could have told you how to do that, once you showed him what kind of poison you'd come up with. Or did you actually swallow a bit of the stuff, letting him advise you on the dose-not enough to kill you, certainly, but just enough to make you sick, to make your performance perfect, to be sure that you fooled me and everyone else. Yes, I think that would be more like you, to exercise your dramatic flair to the limit, to court a bit of danger, to play for the highest possible stakes. But to hand that poor slave girl over to the torturers for the sake of authenticity-that was really going too far, Clodia, even for you. Of course, you could be sure that she'd tell them the story exactly as you wanted, since they'll only hand her back to you once they're finished, and if she hasn't done her job properly you can make things even worse for her. This absurdity of torturing slaves to get at the truth-"
"You've gone completely mad, Gordianus. You're raving."
"Then why do I suddenly feel so perfectly lucid, for the first time since I met you, really. It's just as they say: you cast a spell. I thought I'd be immune, but only a fool could think that, and that's what you've played me for. But now my eyes are open, and I have to wonder just how deeply you've dug yourself into this campaign of destruction against Mar-cus Caelius. If the poison charges are a fake, then what about the murder charges? What about Dio-'that poor wretch,' as you call him? Might you have had some hand in murdering him-for no better reason than to incriminate Marcus Caelius?"
"Ridiculous! When Dio died, Caelius and I were still-"
"Then perhaps Caelius did take part in the murder. But who's to say that your brother isn't ultimately behind it all, if he and Caelius were still allies then, just as you and Caelius were still lovers? And this money you loaned to Caelius, that you claim he used in his poison plot against Dio-perhaps you knew all along what the money was for; perhaps the plot was your idea to begin with, and Caelius just another of your puppets My eyes are open, Clodia, yet everything becomes more and more obscure to me. In light of my growing confusion, I think I should decline to testify at the trial tomorrow, don't you? Not for the prosecution, anyway. Perhaps I might testify for the defense-yes, let Cicero call the most honest man in Rome to talk about how Clodia set him up to make Marcus Caelius look like a would-be poisoner." "You wouldn't dare!"
"Wouldn't I? Then I suggest that you drop everything to do with this fake poisoning. Tear up the deposition that Chrysis gave under torture. Don't whisper a word about the gorgon's hair poisoning when you testify. Do you understand? Because if you do, I'll give testimony myself and refute everything you say. How will your case against Caelius look then, with your own scheme exposed? So much for the shocking revelations that Herennius promised as a climax to the trial!"
Clodia's eyes flashed. Her lips trembled. Fury flared on her face and then dimmed as she struggled to contain it. Once again I was struck by her wan and haggard look-was she really mad enough to have poisoned herself deliberately? Was she so totally, relentlessly consumed with destroying Caelius? What was such a love like, to end in such hatred and degradation? And most puzzling of all, at least to me: at that moment- her body ravaged by self-induced poisoning, her duplicity exposed, her scheme to use me in tatters-how could Clodia still look so breathtakingly beautiful to my eyes? So beautiful that I couldn't stand to look at her, but had to turn my back and look elsewhere, at the rutting nymphs and satyrs who cavorted with mindless, guiltless, sterile passion on the walls.
"Outrageous," she finally muttered. "What you say is utterly outrageous. Where do I begin? It's absurd. It's mad. Has Caelius somehow gotten to you? Or Cicero? Why have you turned against me, Gordianus?'
"I told you in the beginning, my only interest was to find Dio's killer. I won't be used as a tool to help satisfy your spite against an ex-lover. I suppose you're accustomed to using men and having them enjoy it, but I have no appetite for that sort of thing, Clodia."
"Yes, I could tell that from the beginning." Her voice was low and weary. Though my back was turned, I sensed her approach. I felt her warm breath against the back of my neck. "That's why I never tried to use that sort of persuasion with you. You'd only have seen through it, resented it. You're an unusual man, Gordianus. I'm not used to such strength, such integrity-yes, just as Cicero said. Lucky Bethesda! So I never considered seducing you, Gordianus. I rejected the thought, know-ing it would only offend you. Even though I was tempted, more than once.
I took a deep breath and turned to face her. The expression on her face was dejected, poignant, utterly convincing. "Clodia. You are a remarkable woman. You never give up, do you?"
I expected a flash of anger or the hint of a smirk, but her expression only became more perplexed, more pained. "Remarkable!" I whispered.
I stepped past her, suddenly anxious to leave, thinking that I might yet do something I would later regret. But the doorway was filled by a tall, imposingly muscular young man who stood with his arms crossed, wearing only a tiny loincloth. Catullus's lampoon was uncannily, unerringly accurate. Even as he made a point of blocking my exit, Egnatius the Spaniard had a grin on his face.