‘I suppose they’ll kill me, after what I’ve done. Or send me to some island and leave me there to die.’
‘But what have you done, exactly?’ I kept my voice deliberately gentle as I spoke. ‘You said you killed your father, but I don’t believe you did. I don’t see how you had the opportunity today.’
She seemed almost disappointed at my cool response. ‘I made it happen — and that’s all there is to that. So let them come and get me. I don’t care any more. In the meantime, you don’t have to stand there watching and gloating over me. And I’m not drinking anything that woman has prepared. How can I be sure that it isn’t poisoned too? Somebody clearly wants our family dead.’
‘So it wasn’t you that put wolfsbane in your father’s wine?’
She gave a shivering sniff and glared at me. ‘Well, of course, I didn’t do it personally. Where, by all the gods, would I get wolfsbane from? And when did I ever have the chance to do anything alone? But — I am telling you — it was my fault all the same.’ Her voice was coming in little gasping sobs.
‘You mean you paid someone to do it?’ Pulchra’s voice was sharp.
Pompeia flung her a look that would have withered stone, and said, with the same little catches in her breath, ‘I had no money. How could I do that?’
I had a flash of sudden insight and bent very close to her. ‘I think I understand,’ I murmured softly. ‘You put a curse on him, or something of the kind?’
She looked at me with a kind of gratitude. ‘I knew it would come out somehow, though I vowed I would not tell. But now you know. It’s illegal, isn’t it? You can be put to death for using supernatural means to kill someone like that?’
I took a deep breath. ‘That depends on circumstance,’ I said, though she was right in principle of course. The use of magic to procure a death was still potentially a capital offence. Marcus — ironically — had mentioned it to me, not very long before he went abroad. The law had fallen into abeyance more or less in recent years, but the Emperor’s increasing willingness to see threats everywhere had meant that there had recently been talk of it again. Ambitious councillors and magistrates throughout the Empire — including, unsurprisingly, Honorius himself — had actively argued in favour of reviving it.
I turned to Pompeia. ‘It’s a question of whether you used spells and sorcerers.’ And whether it could be proved that there was a deliberate human agency instead, I added to myself.
She shook her head. ‘Nothing of that kind, citizen. I called upon the gods. I made a secret, special sacrifice and made a vow to Venus that if she heard my prayer, I would remain a virgin all my life. I didn’t want to marry like my sister did, some business contact that my father had picked for me. Or be like poor Livia, bullied and tormented by a mother-in-law who made her days a living misery. I prayed to all the gods that they would deliver me — and so they have done. In this dreadful way! So you see, citizen, it is exactly as I said. I deserve whatever punishment the courts reserve for me. I was responsible for my father’s death.’
There was shocked silence and then Maesta said, ‘Well, there you are then. Best if she drinks that potion I made, and it will give her oblivion at least. Have them bring a slave in, if she doubts that it is safe, and have him take the draught. She will see it only makes you sleep. I have another dose of the same mixture in this phial.’ She produced a woven basket from underneath the stool — it had been hidden by her skirts when she’d been sitting there — and took out another little bottle. ‘I was going to leave it here, in case it was required. They can give her that one, if she would prefer.’
Pompeia turned her tear-stained face to me — she had obviously adopted me as her protector in all this. ‘Don’t let them, citizen. How can I be sure that the mixture is the same — or that the poor servant won’t be murdered too?’
‘I don’t think so, Pompeia. I am here to witness what is happening, and they could not give you poison without my knowing it. Besides, there is a different proposition I could make. We’ll put a little of this poppy juice into another cup, and Maesta herself can have a sip of it.’
Maesta looked startled. ‘And if I fall asleep?’
I shrugged. ‘What does it signify? You were staying here to see that the potion took effect, and you were to be locked into this room with her until it did. If Pompeia goes on refusing to touch it in this way, it might be quicker if you simply had a sip yourself.’ I didn’t add that I was interested to see her reactions for myself. Maesta’s skill with herbs might be important yet. Someone had poisoned Honorius, after all — although it seemed that Pompeia had not — and who better than the vintner’s wife to have access to the wine? Though, admittedly, it was hard to see what her motive might have been. I would have to talk to Maesta — and her husband — later on.
For the moment, though, Pompeia was my chief concern. I turned towards the girl. ‘If Maesta agrees to taste it, then I think that you should drink the rest. It would be good for you to sleep. You do not want them to call a medicus and have him declare you mad, or worse still call the guard and have you dragged away. I am not surprised you hold yourself responsible for this — by your own admission, you called on the gods to help you to thwart your father’s plans. But you did not curse him, or ask them to strike him dead. I don’t think any court could find you guilty — particularly when someone else set out to murder him. And there is no law against praying to the gods.’
She gave a little groan. ‘You really think so, citizen? I made my vows in private — there is no proof of what I said.’
‘It may be that the gods have a sense of irony, but I think this murder was by human hand. I don’t believe your prayer was really answered, anyway. You wanted to be delivered from this marriage, I’m aware, but it was really the married state you wanted to escape — and your grandmother’s still hoping to find a groom for you.’ I didn’t add that Gracchus was employing me, and was prepared to take her as a wife himself.
I had rather expected that she would be relieved by my reassurance that she was innocent, but instead she looked appalled. ‘But my vow to Venus! I promised on my life. .’
I grinned. ‘Ah, that is where you are very fortunate. Or you made a very clever bargain with the gods. If you are given in marriage your prayers have not been heard — in which case you are not bound to keep the vow. If you remain single, it will keep itself.’
For the first time I saw the flicker of a smile, and was amazed how it transformed her face. It wasn’t pretty — it could never be that — but it softened markedly, though there was still a hint of fierce determination in the eyes. Perhaps I should not have been surprised at that — most girls would simply have embraced their fate, not tried to enlist the aid of goddesses. Perhaps she had inherited a little of her paternal grandmother’s strong will and stubbornness.
‘Very well. If you will undertake to speak on my behalf, I will drink the potion, if Maesta tastes it first. But I don’t want to marry, you can tell them that — especially not someone who just wants my settlement. And if they try to force me, I’ll find another way. I’ll hide the balance scales — someone has to hold them at the ceremony or it will be so ill-omened they won’t let it proceed. Or better still, I will refuse to say the words. They can drag me to the altar, but they can’t make me speak.’
She might just dare to do it, too, I thought. And without her uttering the ancient formula ‘where you are Gaius, I am Gaia’, the marriage would not stand. I wondered what Gracchus would say if he knew about all this. Refuse to pay me for my efforts, probably — though my contract only said that I must prove her innocent.
‘No one will expect you to marry anyone, at least until the mourning period is complete,’ I said. ‘And surely even marriage is better than slow death on a barren island, or permanently being locked up in your room, which is what will happen if they think that you are crazed.’