‘A wealthy young lady like you?’ The leper’s tone was unctuous but disbelieving. The stump of a hand waved at her again. ‘Even the smallest coin would help, if it please you.’
‘Get away from my daughter!’
The leper shrank back from Atia, fawning.
‘Aesculapius keep us from such a fate.’ Atia’s hand beckoned. ‘Step around him.’
Aurelia couldn’t help but look at the leper again. Although she was repulsed by his appearance, she felt a deep pity for him too. To be condemned to a slow, living death — she could think of few things that were worse. ‘Please, Mother. Give him something.’
Atia studied her for a moment; then she sighed and reached for her purse. What difference will a single coin make to our problems? ‘Here.’ A hemidrachm flashed in the air. The leper reached up for it, but was unable to catch it with his ruined hands. The small piece of silver dropped to the dirt, and he scrabbled after it, calling down the blessings of the gods on both of them.
Looking down, Aurelia gaped. He had no toes left on his left foot. Where his right foot had been, there was just a scarred bump of flesh loosely covered with a rag.
‘Come on, child. That will see him fed for a few days at least.’ Atia’s voice was kind.
They walked away, fast. The leper vanished into the crowd.
‘I won’t get his disease, will I?’ Aurelia’s initial fear had returned.
‘With the blessings of the gods, no. He didn’t touch you, and you weren’t close to him for long enough.’ Atia cast a look over her shoulder. ‘The men on the gate must have been half asleep this morning to let a creature like that inside the walls.’ Her nose twitched; fearing that her mother had smelled her perfume, Aurelia took a step away. A moment later, Atia glided on, and Aurelia thanked the gods for a lucky escape.
They stopped first at a potter’s and then at a wine merchant’s premises. There Atia began haggling with the owner over the quality of the most recent wine she had ordered. Aurelia soon grew bored. The earrings and necklaces displayed in the entrance to a jeweller’s shop opposite caught her eye, and she stepped outside to take a closer look. As she did, a short, balding man in a fine Greek chiton brushed against her. He muttered an apology; her mind on the array of trinkets, she took little notice.
The jeweller, a beady-eyed Egyptian, was quick to see Aurelia’s interest. ‘Can I be of service?’
She gave him a smile. ‘I’m just looking.’
‘Please, my shop is yours. Try on anything you like.’
Aurelia sighed. She had no money of her own. She threw a wistful glance at Atia, but there was no point in asking. Her answer would be that the jewellery Aurelia was wearing — a pair of gold pendants decorated with beads of blue glass, and a simple gold ring decorated with a red garnet — was more than adequate. Until her wedding day, her mother would not be purchasing her any more. Sudden mischief took her. The shopkeeper didn’t have to know that she wouldn’t be buying. ‘I like this,’ she announced, pointing to a necklace hung with dozens of small tubular red and black stones.
‘Carnelian and jet, that is,’ said the jeweller. ‘From Parthia. Beautiful, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Want to try it on?’ His hands were already undoing the clasp. ‘It will suit your complexion. Your husband will love it, and it won’t cost him the sun and moon.’
Aurelia didn’t disabuse him. Gaius might like it, she thought. She was about to allow him to place it around her neck when she heard raised voices. Her head turned. Inside the wine merchant’s, she could see the short man who’d bumped into her facing her mother, who looked furious. Her curiosity was roused. ‘Thank you. Maybe another time.’ She walked out, ignoring the protests of the perplexed jeweller.
She crossed the street, weaving her way through the passers-by. A pair of burly men loitering close to the vintner’s eyed her up as she went by. One made a smacking noise with his lips. Used to such attention, Aurelia ignored them.
The wine merchant’s was a typical, open-fronted shop. A long, rectangular room led in from the arched entrance. Oil lamps flickered from alcoves. A painted statue of Bacchus and his maenads watched from a shelf. On either side, lines of amphorae were propped against the wall or nestled in beds of straw, and a low counter where customers could stand to taste the shop’s wines was situated at the back of the room. Atia was ten steps from the doorway, a cup in her hand. The wine merchant stood alongside, looking decidedly embarrassed. The short man stood close to her, his hands raised in apparent placation.
‘All I am saying, my good lady, is that these things need to be talked about,’ he said as Aurelia drew near.
‘This is no place to discuss such matters,’ snapped Atia. ‘How dare you approach me here?’
A shrug. ‘Would you rather I had come to Martialis’ house?’
Atia’s lips pinched white.
‘What’s going on, Mother?’ asked Aurelia.
‘It’s nothing important.’
The short man turned. His brown eyes moved up and down, appraising her lasciviously. Her skin crawled. ‘Ah. This must be your daughter. Aurelia, if I am not mistaken?’
‘Yes. And you are?’
His oiled ringlets moved as he inclined his head. ‘Phanes, moneylender, at your service.’
Aurelia was no less confused, but before she could enquire further, her mother was moving towards the door. ‘Come on,’ said Atia. ‘We’re leaving.’ Aurelia knew better than to argue, and followed.
Phanes moved fast for one so small. In the blink of an eye, he had placed himself in front of Atia. ‘There is still the matter of your husband’s debt. We haven’t discussed it.’
‘Nor shall we!’ snapped Atia. She tried to move past Phanes, but he blocked her way.
Aurelia could not believe her eyes, or her ears.
‘Get out of my way, you low-down piece of Greek filth!’ Atia ordered.
Phanes didn’t move. ‘Lowly I might be, and Greek I certainly am. That doesn’t make the forty thousand drachms that your husband owes me disappear.’
‘You will have your money! You know he is good for it, damn your eyes.’
‘With his breeding and yours, one would think so, but I haven’t seen as much as a drachm for more than a year. A man can’t live on silence and missed payments. He’d starve.’
‘Fabricius is not here. There’s a war on, in case you hadn’t noticed!’
‘No doubt Fabricius is doing us and the Republic proud, but that doesn’t mean he can renege on what he owes. For the first few months last year, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He had been sent to Iberia with Scipio after all. After my enquiries revealed that he had returned and been ordered to Cisalpine Gaul, I sent him a letter. There was no reply.’
‘He probably never received it. Everything is chaos up there. The damn Gauls kill most of the messengers.’
A sly smile. ‘I sent my message by ship.’
Atia’s composure slipped for a heartbeat. ‘That still doesn’t mean he received it.’
‘True. But when the second and then the third letters went unanswered, I decided it was time to take things up with you. I would have paid you a visit soon, but my sources told me that you were to visit the city this very day. What a perfect opportunity to chat. To find out if you had had word from your husband concerning this matter.’
Atia did not so much as acknowledge Phanes’ comment. She looked at him as if he were a snake. ‘Who told you I was coming to Capua? Martialis would not say a word to anyone that wasn’t a friend.’
Nor would Gaius, thought Aurelia.
Phanes’ smile widened.
‘A slave,’ spat Atia. ‘One of Martialis’ slaves is in your employ.’
‘I have ears all over Capua.’ Phanes’ hands fluttered. ‘I’m a moneylender. Men such as I need to know what people are talking about. Who is worried, who wants to try a new business venture and other titbits like that.’
‘You’re a blood-sucking leech,’ Atia retorted.
Phanes made a tutting noise. ‘Your husband was always far more polite. Especially when he wanted an extension to his loan. It must be the Roman breeding.’