“So I said to him, ‘Which financiers?’ and he got vaguer. He said money like that almost certainly came from Rome, because it was the improved coinage. And only army paymasters and very rich merchants and big investors and government types-not small, honest argentarii-would carry that much around, and even then they’d use it to pay interest to another banker. Big people don’t pay little people with that kind of money. That’s why they go to money-changers, so they can get it in useful denominations.
“So I asked him again who the financiers were, and he waved his hands around and said that the only ones he knew never stayed in Britannia for the winter. They went to Rome or southern Gaul, or some place more civilized than Londinium. And that was all I could get out of him.”
I grunted. “It’s enough. We’re looking for someone who knew Caelius, and Maecenas and Narbo. An odd assortment of men. Not your typical investment dinner party guests. So then what did you do?”
“I decided to spy on Caelius-go down to Lupo’s and see if I could dig up anything. But when I got there, the place was shut tighter than a Vestal’s-” He realized Stricta was next to him, and suddenly went pink. “Anyway, it was closed.”
“So where was Caelius?”
“At my house, Ardur.” Gwyna shivered a little. “He’d come that morning to see my father.”
She looked up from the floor, and said it quietly. “I’m worried about him. He’s been troubled lately, since the governor’s visit. He was so happy-then more ill than ever. He won’t let Meuric move him away from the fire, and he won’t talk to me, or anyone.
“When Caelius showed up that morning, he gave my father receipts proving that the debts were paid. He left about half an hour later. I tried to stay out of his sight.
“Then my father called me in, and said that I was to marry Caelius. When I showed on my face what I felt, he got angry. He said he’d thought of everything. I wasn’t to worry.”
She looked down at her hands. “I am worried about him, Ardur.”
“We’ll see him, talk to him. Is that when you sent a message to Draco?”
She nodded. “Yes. I knew he was outside, and I thought if he could keep Caelius from coming in the house until you were home and could reason with my father-oh, I didn’t know what to do, I was in a panic, and I couldn’t stand to have that bastard in our home again. I was worried he’d try to hurt Hefin. So I sent Meuric outside to tell Draco to keep him away.”
“And Caelius came back?”
“He tried.” It was Bilicho who replied. “I followed him to Urien’s in the afternoon. I’d given up on finding him, and was on my way home, but happened to pass by a jeweler’s-an expensive shop. He was inside, looking at necklaces-jet and gold, lapis and gold, the nice stuff. I didn’t want to let go once I’d caught the son-of-a-bitch, so I just tracked him straight back-to Gywna’s. He’d bought the jet and gold one, I guess as a bribe for her.”
Her face was hard. “I hope someone chokes him with it.”
“So you stopped him, Draco?”
The large man spoke up promptly. “Yes, Master. I got in his way, and told him that no one inside wished to see him. He was very angry, but didn’t do anything except threaten to have me flogged, and worse. He didn’t know me from when we went that day, but he kept staring like he was trying to remember where he’d seen me.”
“I watched the whole thing. It really got to Caelius, having Gwyna in his grasp and not being able to walk in and get her.”
She squirmed, hearing Bilicho talking about it.
He said: “Draco and I thought it over, and we figured it would be best for him to stay the night, so I went home and sent Coir out with a couple of blankets for him. He slept in front of the door.”
Draco hung his head. “That was the night somebody tried to break in.”
Bilicho frowned, and squeezed Stricta’s hand. “I was asleep. Still a little groggy from the headache, I guess. But I heard a crash-it was Brutius knocking over one of Venutius’ pots-and I got up, and he was trembling all over and could barely talk. Someone-he didn’t see what size he was or anything-had tried to climb over the back wall, and had kicked Pyxis pretty hard.
“She was yelping, and he was starting to cry, and you weren’t here and neither was Draco, and none of us slept any more that night. I checked all the outside rooms the next day to make sure he hadn’t taken any poison or anything, but I guess Pyxis scared him off.”
“I’m sure it was Narbo.”
“I’m not shedding any tears when he’s dead. Anyway, that worried me. And I was scared, and started thinking-about Stricta. And I didn’t tell anybody about it, because she’s still a slave, and if Caelius found out where she was, he’d tell Meditor.
“Meditor would cut off his own balls and sacrifice them to Jove if he could get something on you. Not that they’d bring much. But hiding a slave-even one that’s maybe helping the governor-is a big, big something. I figured if I kept my mouth shut, no one would get in trouble except me. And I’m used to it.” He looked at Stricta. Then he turned back to me, with a plea in his face.
“Someone was after us, or you, or the money, or something, and I wanted-I wanted her where I could look after her. So I got up early, and walked to the temple, and bribed the priest into smuggling in a note. I hoped she could read Latin. And she could. My Latin, anyway.” They looked at each other, and I coughed.
What we were doing wasn’t legal. Hiding a fugitive slave flouted the laws of the Roman Empire. I scratched my chin with my thumbnail. Not like the perfectly legal act of Caelius killing Galla.
“Stricta has to stay here, out-of-sight. When this is settled-when Caelius is settled-I think I can get her freed. As thanks for services rendered to the governor.”
Stricta’s soft voice answered me. Her deep-set brown eyes studied each of us in turn. “I will never be able to thank you-to thank all of you-for giving-for giving me life back.”
Bilicho squeezed her hand, and they stared at each other again. I hurried it along, because they didn’t look like they were going to wait for us to leave.
I asked: “How did you get away?”
“The procession. When we walked in front of the governor’s palace, I pretended to fall, and slipped through the crowd. Some of the others helped me. Then I found my way here. To you. To Bil-i-cho.”
She pronounced each syllable separately, and he beamed.
“What about you, Draco? When did Caelius come back?”
“The next morning. With Lupo. Lupo hates him. He would kill him if he could-and please forgive me for saying it, Dominus. All the other slaves would be killed if Lupo did, so he obeys.
“When he wrestled me, he didn’t hold me with any strength. And he whispered to punch him in the left side of his face, where a tooth was loose. Caelius would beat him, but Lupo wouldn’t help him get in the house. So we pretended to fight, and he pretended to lose.”
Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. “There were a lot of people in the streets. The odds were on Lupo, five to one, so some people weren’t happy with how it ended. A woman tried to throw a chamber pot on me, but I ducked and some of it hit Caelius. He was very angry.”
I grinned. “I bet. Is that when he threatened you with the vigiles?”
“Yes. But the mistress came out as soon as he left, with the little boy, and said she’d come home with me and wait for you.”
Gywna shook her head. “I’d watched as much as I could from the window. I tried to reason with my father, but he wouldn’t talk to me. He kept saying he knew what he was doing, and when I tried to tell him what Caelius was capable of, he wouldn’t talk at all. I’d already packed some clothes, so I said good-bye to him and took Hefin and left the house when I knew Caelius was gone.” She looked far away for a moment. “I hope-” She paused, while we looked at her. Or at least I looked at her. She bit her lip. “Never mind, Ardur.”