Nemesis

I caught Maia's eye and wondered again whether she had sneaked a look at the will. I could have unsealed the tablets. It is traditional to read a will in public straight after the funeral.

Stuff that for a game of soldiers. I wanted to inspect and evaluate this dodgy document when I was safely by myself. It remained in my belt. Every time I bent a few inches, the chunky tablets stuck in my ribs, reminding me. Every time someone fished for information, I played at being too overcome with sorrow to think about it.

'Cut that out!' muttered Petronius Longus, while he acted out supporting me. 'Some of us know you would have gone to live as a pork-chop trader in Halicarnassus if you could have escaped being your father's son.'

'No point. He'd only have turned up,' I answered gloomily. 'Offering me a cheap price for bones – and expecting me to leave the marrow in as a favour.'

Petro and Maia stayed until last, helping to shepherd out the rest, then giving orders to the slaves. 'Keep the house running as normal. Keep it clean and secure.'

'You will have instructions later this week about the funeral feast, then you will be told where you will each be working afterwards

…'

I watched them, moving now like a long-established couple, although they had only lived together formally for one or two years. They had met after Maia was married and a mother, a status she respected with more diligence than her late husband deserved. Each now had children from first marriages, all of whom -were currently outside in the portico, quietly occupying themselves. Throughout the day Petronilla, Cloelia, Marius, Rhea and Ancus had behaved in magical contrast to the brats my other sisters dragged along. They would have shown up my own pair, had I brought them. My daughters were cute but unmanageable. Helena said they got it from me.

Petronius, tall and hefty, was not in formal funeral clothes, but had simply thrown an extra-dark cloak over the battered brown gear he usually wore. I guessed that back in Rome he was due at the vigiles' patrol house for a night shift. I thanked him for coming all the more; he just shrugged. 'We've got a really puzzling case, Falco. I'd welcome your advice – -'

My sister laid a hand on his arm. 'Lucius, not now.' Maia, with her dark curls and characteristic quick movements, looked odd and unfamiliar in black; she usually flitted about in very bright colours. Her face was pale, but she was businesslike.

I would have hugged her, but now the house had emptied, Maia broke away and threw herself on to a couch. 'Did you see this coming, sis?'

'Not really, though Pa had complained of feeling off-colour. Your Egypt trip knocked it out of him.'

'Not my idea. I had banned him. I knew he'd be a menace, and he was.'

'Oh I realise. Look,' Maia said, 'I won't annoy you with details, but I went quickly through the diary with Gornia. We will carry on with all the booked auctions but won't take any new orders. You'll have a lot of sorting out, whatever happens to the business.'

'Oh Jupiter! Sorting out – what a nightmare… Why me?' I finally managed to voice it out loud.

Petronius looked surprised. 'You are the son. He thought a lot of you.'

'No, he thought Marcus was a self-righteous prig,' my sister disagreed in a casual tone. She threw insults as if she had hardly noticed doing it, though her barbs were generally apt and always intentional. 'Still, Marcus always does a good job. And apart from behaving like a bastard at every opportunity, Father was a traditionalist.'

'Maybe all fathers are bastards,' I commented. I like to be fair. 'He knew what I thought of him. I told him often enough.'

'Well, he knew you were honest!' said Maia, laughing a little. She had faith in me. I had never felt certain just how she regarded Pa. We were the two youngest in our family, long-time allies against the others; she was my favourite and held me in great affection. She had worked with my father because he had paid her, at a time when she had been desperate financially. Newly widowed then – - it was about three years ago – she appreciated being in a family business during that hard period. She needed the security. Pa, to do him justice, offered it. He railed against having a woman interfering yet he let her do much as she wanted as his office manager. He recognised how good she was at organisation. He also liked having one of his own privy to his secrets, rather than a hired hand or a slave. That was why he let Junia run Flora's Caupona too, even though her attitude upset half the customers. And that, I suppose, was why he landed me with his will.

I pulled it out. I held the tied and sealed tablets nervously between both hands, making no attempt to pull the strings undone. 'So tell me about this, Maia.' Maia just sniffed. 'He rewrote it last week? Why was that?'

'One of his whims. He sent for the lawyer straight after that drama-dealer, Thalia, came to see him at the Saepta.'

'Thalia?' That was unexpected.

'You know the creature, I believe? She wears the shortest skirts in the Empire.'

'And frolics suggestively with wild beasts.'

'Who is this? Should I know her?' Sitting on the end of Maia's couch, his long legs crossed and his hands behind his head, Petronius showed himself keen for gossip. Maia kicked him, and he massaged the bare soles of her tired feet for her; neither really seemed aware they were doing it.

I shrugged. 'Have Helena and I not mentioned her? She's a circus and theatre manager. Runs actors and musicians – does rather well. Her speciality is exotic animal acts. I do mean exotic! Her indecent dance with a python would make your eyes water.'

A gleam came into Petro's eyes. 'I'd like to see that! But Marcus, my boy, I thought you gave up your fancy girlfriends!'

'Oh I have; honest, legate! No, no; she's a family friend. Thalia's a good sort, though I hate her pesky snake, Jason. I could have done without her travelling to Alexandria with my damned father. She came to buy lions. Pa cadged a free ride on her ship. I believe that was the first time they met, and I can't imagine they would have any business together back in Rome.'

'Oh, they were close!' Maia snorted. 'They rushed into a closet with the door closed and there was some ghastly giggling. I did not take in a galley tray of almond fancies.' She looked prudish. 'When they emerged, Thalia seemed extremely happy with the outcome and our father positively glowed – the revolting way he did when some busty fifteen-year-old barmaid gave him a free drink.'

Petronius winced. I just looked rueful. 'Thalia's a woman of the world, Maia, with her own money; she can't have been scrounging. What she likes from men, insofar as she likes them for anything, is purely physical… What did Geminus say?'

'Nothing. I could see he was bursting to make some grand pronouncement,' Maia replied, 'but the Thalia woman glared at him and for once he held his tongue. Immediately she left, the lawyer was booked, however. Next day Geminus went into a huddle with him. He couldn't resist letting on he was playing with his will. Since he was dying to tell me the details, I refused to show any curiosity.'

Like Maia, I hated to be manipulated into feeling any interest. I was exhausted. I decided I would have dinner here, sleep at the villa, then rise early to go home to Helena. I tossed the will on to a low table. 'It will keep.'

'My bet is, that will be a whole year's work and twice as much trouble,' Petronius warned.

'Well, I'll give it proper attention tomorrow. The timing must be a coincidence, Maia. I can't imagine Thalia's visit was connected.'

Then Maia exclaimed, 'Oh, Marcus. You can be such an innocent!'

After Maia and Petronius left, the slaves found me something to eat and somewhere to sleep. I had to stop them putting me in my father's room. Assuming his legal identity was bad enough. I drew the line at his bed.

Food revived me. Pa always ate well. The excellent panpipe-player whootled gently for me too. I was ready to be irritated, but it was quite relaxing. He seemed surprised when I congratulated him on his arpeggios. It looked as if he was hanging around in case I required other services – not that my father would have stood for that. I dismissed the musician without rancour. Who knows what kind of debauched household he originally came from?