‘But this brother, Redux, was invited to the feast today?’ I said. I was surprised by the idea of social interaction after such events — if these were Celtic households there would have been a silent feud and people would have avoided each other in the street — but Roman patrician families did things differently, especially when there were business interests to be borne in mind.
Livia had started shredding another rose by now. She still did not seem conscious that she was doing it. ‘Miles lives in Aqua Sulis and has taken a new wife. He may have been invited to the wedding feast himself — I’m not sure of that — but he would not in any case have been expected to attend. Redux lives near Glevum so he was asked to come, since my husband has trading connections with them both. Or rather, he did have. I keep forgetting that he’s no longer here.’ She stacked the torn petals into a little pile and placed them on a ribbon which adorned the tabletop.
The dumpy maidservant was peering round the doorway by this time, and it was clear that Livia had been missed outside, and that we could not continue to stay here for long without her being discourteous to her guests. But I wanted her to make the most of what little time we had left. I leaned forward. ‘I can understand a coolness with the husband,’ I observed, ‘if he was not in favour of the punishment. But why should Redux bear a grudge? It could hardly be said to have affected him.’
She looked at me squarely, as if coming back to life. ‘Except that the fellow that was killed that day turned out to be Zythos, Redux’s great friend. Redux is convinced that he was innocent and there was some other explanation for his being there — though it is a little difficult to see what it might be. He was there — uninvited and concealed — at night and in Honoria’s room. If her father had not happened to call in to say goodnight, it is probable that they would have got away with it.’
She reached out a finger and sent the little tower of torn petals tumbling. ‘But, of course, there is no possible redress and — like his brother — Redux has to deal with my husband in his trade so he keeps his feelings strictly to himself. On the surface, anyway. Though I understand he has voiced his opinion to his friends.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘And that, citizen, is all that I can tell you, I’m afraid. Come — my slave has clearly been sent to look for me. I must go back and make my last farewells.’
I attempted to detain her. ‘But how did he get in? This Zythos fellow?’ I followed her, as she was walking to the door. It was an important question. A Roman home is not unguarded, like my roundhouse is. A man like Miles would have a doorkeeper and at least a dozen slaves — precisely in order to keep strangers out. So, I persisted. ‘Some member of the household must have let him in — unless he used a ladder, or scaled up a wall, and even then he’d need someone inside to keep a watch.’
She was still walking and did not look around. ‘I don’t know, citizen. Honorius asked the same thing, several times — but all the servants swore they’d never seen the man before.’
‘In Aqua Sulis, that is? But you knew him here?’
She whirled round and stared at me. ‘And why should you say that?’
I shrugged. It seemed obvious to me. ‘He was clearly familiar with Honoria at least. Being a young woman of good family, I don’t imagine she had many opportunities to meet young men, unless they were invited to the house.’
She smiled then, a little ruefully. ‘Of course. I had forgotten you were skilled at reasoning. And naturally, citizen, you are quite correct. After Honoria’s betrothal was announced, we saw him several times. He lived in Glevum, not very far from here, and, as I said, was a friend of Redux — the brother-in-law to be. We liked him very much. He was charming and successful — though a Greek, of course — and there was no hint of a special friendship with Honoria. He was equally attentive to all the womenfolk. In fact, Honorius had hopes of him for Pompeia at one time.’
Poor Pompeia — even a foreigner was good enough for her, since she was thought unlikely to attract a Roman man of wealth; that was very clearly what Livia had meant. The family must have been delighted when Gracchus asked for her. I said quickly, to stop Livia from walking off again, ‘So, when your husband found Zythos in Honoria’s room he felt especially betrayed? Is that why he exacted such a terrible punishment?’
‘Perhaps.’ She’d stopped to face me now and had turned deathly pale. ‘I was not free to voice the thought while my husband was alive, but I believe that it was cruel and unjust punishment — however much the law entitled him to it. The family was shocked, although we did not dare to grieve or even give her a proper burial. My husband could be completely heartless when he chose. I know that poor Redux was distraught as well — but of course, equally helpless to respond.’ She dropped her eyes and went on, in an altered tone of voice, in which it was evident that she was close to tears. ‘We’d even invited Zythos here to dine, you know, on several occasions when Redux was a guest. All in Pompeia’s interests, of course — not that it was ever mentioned openly. Officially it was to make up the proper number at the feast. Honorius was a stickler for social niceties like that. There must be nine at every table — three couches of three each, that sort of thing.’
‘But not today?’ I murmured, looking at the single table and the stools around the walls.
She flashed me that little rueful smile again. ‘Today was the exception. This wedding had to be at home and there were too many guests to seat them formally. We were going to have the slaves bring little folding tables in. Even then I had a job to talk Honorius into it. He thought it was ill-omened. And perhaps it was!’ She paused for a moment at the entrance way and glanced around the decorated room. ‘But you can see now, citizen — I’m sure — why Redux, despite his connection with the family, would not be the proper man to ask to close my husband’s eyes for him and call upon his soul.’
And with that, she joined the waiting slave and went back to the hall, leaving me alone among the empty chairs.
Seven
I watched her go, but didn’t follow her. In fact I deliberately stayed behind and bent down to pick up the scattered petals from the floor, where there was a fine mosaic of the seasons laid at the dining end. It was not my place to do so, in a household full of slaves, but I was half-hoping that one of them would come in after me and I would be able to learn the servants’ view of what had happened in this house today. Besides, Livia had given me a lot to think about and I wanted a little time to consider what it meant.
Had Redux somehow contrived to murder Honorius to avenge the honour killing of his friend, when the legal process offered no redress? That much was plausible. But how could he have put poison in the wine? Or had there been some other method of administering it? Perhaps I was wrong in thinking there was wolfsbane used at all — there were other poisons which would have the same effects — though surely only aconite would have killed so instantly?
I was collecting the flower-fragments as I mused, but I hadn’t gathered more than one or two of them before I was interrupted by a puzzled small voice from the door.
‘Master?’
It was my own slave, little Minimus. I straightened up and saw him standing at the entrance to the room, clutching the ill-fated wedding platter in one hand, and my cloak in the other. When he saw what I’d been doing he put those down at once and came across to pick the petals up himself.