I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t blame you. But your memory may save your life.”
“I don’t know if its worth saving.”
“Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got her.”
“No one really has Gwyna. She’s her own woman. I didn’t ask for her, but yes, I’m glad she loves me. But don’t talk like a fool. There’ll be other women.”
“Not like her.”
So I lied and said: “Yes, there will be.”
He just looked at me. I turned to leave. “One more question: you said you saw the money that night. Where was it?”
“I thought it was in the room. But when I saw the man hiding, I backed out, and that’s when I ran into the other one. He was standing over the body, and staring at a large pouch hanging at its side that I’d missed at first. I figured that was the money, but all I wanted to do was run.”
He hung his head. “I didn’t want Gwyna to know I’d been a coward.”
“Rhodri, you’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met. And she knows it. Why do you think I hate your guts?”
He smiled at me then, his face twisting up beneath the grime.
I left him in the hole, feeling as bad as it smelled. The guard looked at me suspiciously.
“What were you holding in your hand?”
“A shovel.”
He just shook his head, and led me back to the front.
Avitus was waiting, and Meditor had come in to gloat.
“He’s practically an eyewitness, Avitus.”
“That’s because he’s the murderer,” Meditor leered.
I ignored him. I had better things to do. I drew Avitus aside. “Look, there are three men involved. One of them is Marcus Caelius Prato, the one I told you about. The other one is a soldier, probably a legionary officer. He’s dark and thin, was wearing a green scarf and a gold pin. I found part of a fibulae when I searched the room, so that tallies. It seems as though he’s the actual murderer. But there’s a third man, smaller but richer. Someone from Londinium, possibly a merchant. I’ve got a lead about Maecenas and a silver mine I asked Bilicho to check into, but haven’t had a chance to follow up yet. The soldier is probably the link to the temple. Does that match anyone you know?”
He shook his head doubtfully. “Not off-hand. But it’s not much of a description.”
“Rhodri said he could identify him if he saw him.”
Avitus leaned in close. “You know Meditor. He’s not going to give him up and we can’t bring five hundred men in here.”
I scratched my chin. “I may be able to find another witness. A woman. One Meditor doesn’t know about. Would that work?”
“Sure, if you can take her to the fort.”
“You don’t need to look at all five hundred. The man would either be a part of the temple, or in the contubernium of someone who is. He’d be bunked close by Arian’s room, if not actually in it. I assume you’ve checked that?”
“Yes. The other seven men are in the clear.”
“All right, then. It’s someone near by, someone thin, dark, probably an optio or maybe a lower level centurion. Maybe a messenger, or a high-ranking clerk, one of the immunes. But it’s someone in that fort, and you can find him.”
“We have a better chance, at any rate.”
“And another thing-he may be a Christian.”
Avitus looked a little doubtful. “Whatever you say, Favonianus.”
“Come get me when you’ve got some men who might fit. And for God’s sake, don’t let Meditor torture that poor bastard. I know squatting in jail isn’t supposed to be the punishment, but you should see it in there. That’s enough torture for any man, especially an innocent one.”
I left him to deal with Meditor. Avitus didn’t trust me completely, but he trusted Meditor less, and at heart he was a decent man.
I walked home in a hurry, not even feeling the light rain falling in a steady, endless drizzle. I could sense the net closing in, smell the fear in my opponent. Rhodri was in jail. Why kill me unless it was to prevent me from talking to him? Of the three men he described, the soldier was the most likely to try to break in to my house, the one who could most obviously switch swords.
It was a stupid idea. It limited the field too much. Maybe he thought it up on his own. Desperate men always move too quickly, and desperation makes them dangerous. Dangerous but stupid. I wondered what his next move would be… Caelius was a possibility. I’d have to get dirtier and see Caelius. But Stricta first.
I reached home sooner than anyone expected me. Gwyna was in the kitchen, watching Venutius, who was enjoying the attention. Hefin and Brutius were out with the animals. I’d have to remember to make a mixture for Pyxis tonight. Coir was at the marketplace-Gwyna was probably relieved to get her out of the house. Draco was just waking up, and Bilicho was sitting in front of the fire, a worried expression on his weathered face.
He stood up when I walked in. “What happened?”
“I talked to Rhodri.” Gwyna came out to join us. She held her hand out, and I took it, and then she asked me simply: “How is he?”
“I’ve tried to convince them not to hold the quaestio. He gave me what he knows-a description of the murderer. There are three of them involved-Caelius, a thin, dark-complected legionary of some type, and another man, someone wealthy. Meditor won’t free him to make an identification, but I thought if Stricta-if she’d seen anything-”
“She has. But she won’t talk to me. There’s something wrong. She just sits on the bed and hugs herself and rocks back and forth.” Bilicho held his face in his hands, staring at the fire.
“Maybe you can get her to talk, Arcturus. I can’t.” His brown curls, tinged with grey, drooped as much as his wide mouth.
“Let me go, Ardur.”
Gwyna surprised me. “You? But you-”
“I need to apologize to Stricta. I didn’t understand why she was here or who she was. And perhaps this is something she could better tell a woman.”
Bilicho and I gaped at her. She smiled that smile again, and glided out of the room toward the back. Bilicho scratched his nose. We were both quiet for awhile, but quiet together. Then he spoke. “I haven’t touched her, you know. She’s been sleeping in my bed-or lying in it is a better word-and I’ve held her a few times while she cried, but I’ve never touched her.”
“How long have you known her?”
He turned red. “About three months. I-I visited her at Lupo’s a few times.”
“Why didn’t you mention it? I wouldn’t have teased you so often.”
He mumbled something about her being a slave, and working in a whorehouse, and I let it go. Then he looked up again.
“I do love her, Arcturus. I guess it was you who made me think about it, you and Gwyna. I started to think about how nice it would be to have a woman of my own, someone to take care of me and fix my clothes, and put up with my temper, someone to keep me warm at night, somebody to fight with. Someone to laugh at my jokes.” He grinned. “You’ve done a pretty good job of some of those things over the years, but it’s not the same thing. A man wants his own, once he’s free. You know how it is.”
“I know how it is. But don’t think she’ll laugh at your jokes.”
He grinned at me again. It wouldn’t be the same, but it would be the same, because we were friends.
Gwyna was back before we could get embarrassed again. “She’s all right, Bilicho. I think she’ll eat some broth.”
He stood up, fiddling with the hem of his tunic. “What was wrong with her?”
She looked serious for a moment, and then said: “She’ll tell you herself. But she’ll be fine, now. Just-love her.” She looked up at me. “That’s all the healing that’s necessary.”
Bilicho practically flew to his room. We were by ourselves. I rewarded myself by kissing her for a long time. Then she pulled away. “Aren’t you forgetting to ask me something? Stricta saw someone.”
“I knew it. What did she say?”
“The day before Maecenas was murdered, she saw a thin, dark soldier talking to Caelius. Caelius got very angry when he saw her looking, so she remembered it. The next night, Maecenas-requested her-after I left. Luckily for the poor woman, he couldn’t perform. I give myself partial credit.