She fell silent. Petronius mused wickedly, "I know we can assume the little darlings are virgins when the Pontifex first accepts them, but how can anyone tell that the pretty things stay chaste? Do they have to submit to ritual testing once a week?"
"Lucius Petronius," Helena suggested, "don't you have work to return to this afternoon?"
Petro leaned his elbow on the table with a grin. "Helena Justina, talking about virgins is much more interesting."
"You surprise me. But we are talking about would-be Virgins-which is not the same thing."
"One virgin too many, in the case of Maia's Cloelia!" He was determined to cause trouble today. I would not have minded, but I foresaw that Helena would blame me.
I intervened. "So tell us about the luscious Berenice. She's no virgin, and that's a certainty."
"Ah well," said Maia. "She's definitely very beautiful-if you like that style." She did not say what style it was, and this time both Petronius and I kept mum. "If I had an exotic face and a small legion of hairdressers, I wouldn't care if my reputation was slightly soiled."
"It would not be," I assured her. "Berenice is carrying the slur that she married her own uncle. You would never do that with Uncles Fabius or Junius!"
My mother's two brothers were farm clods with notoriously odd habits, and, like me, Maia had no patience with their eccentricities. "I suppose if the Queen's uncle was as mad as ours are, we should feel some sympathy," she said. "Anyway, the reason I had to go to the Palace was that all the little charmers whose names are in the urn to become Vestals, and all of us suffering mothers, were invited to a reception for Titus Caesar's lady friend. This was set up as an occasion where the female population of Rome would welcome the lovely one into our midst. But I imagine something formal is always arranged by those in charge of the lottery, so the little girls can be inspected and unsuitable ones weeded out."
"Of course it is blasphemous to say this." Helena smiled.
"Wash my mouth out!" Maia breathed. "One of the Vestals was very obviously present anyway."
"Austerely observing?"
"Not too austere; it was one of the younger ones. Constantia." Maia paused, but if she had been thinking up an insult she refrained. "Anyway, if anyone wants to place bets, I soon had the form book sorted-it's so bloody obvious what the result will be, the rest of us could just have gone home straightaway. We all trooped up at the appointed time, and natural groups formed at once, according to our class. All the mothers were introduced to the ravishing royalty-yes, Marcus and Petro, you would call her ravishing, though I thought her a bit cold-"
"Nervous." Helena pretended to defend the Queen. "Probably afraid she may be shouldered out."
"I wonder why! As if by chance," Maia said, sneering, "she ended up surrounded on her dais by the mothers of patrician rank, while the rest of us talked among ourselves. And at the same time, one little girl had been selected to present the Queen with a chaplet of roses, which meant that little brat was cuddled on the silken lap of Berenice for half the afternoon, while Constantia-the Vestal Virgin-sat alongside. Those of us from less fortunate areas of life were struck by a sudden mysterious intuition as to which name will surface when the Pontifex dunks in the lottery urn."
"This name would not be Gaia Laelia?" asked Helena.
Maia rolled her eyes. "Dear gods, sweetheart! I never cease to be amazed at how you and my brother are at the forefront of the gossip! You have only been back in the city three days, and you know everything!"
"Just a knack."
"Actually, we know charming, self-confident, dear little patrician Gaia," I said.
"Through your family?" Maia asked Helena.
"One of my clients," I returned smoothly. Maia and Petro guffawed. "She looks ideal for the Vestal's job. All her relatives specialize in holding priestly posts. She has grown up in the house of a Flamen Dialis."
"Well, dear me, I heard all about that. The child is perfect for the role!" quipped Maia sourly. "So I don't want to be rude, Marcus, but what does she need you for?"
"That, I admit, is a puzzle. Did she talk at all to Cloelia?"
"Afraid so. I may lack social climbing skills, but my strange ambitious baby goes straight to make friends with the people who matter."
"Cloelia cannot be yours," said Helena. "Famia must have found her under an arch. Tell us about Gaia Laelia; did she look happy being favored by Berenice and the Vestal?"
Maia paused. "Mostly. She was one of the youngest, and after a long time in the royal embrace I thought she probably got bored-anyway, there was a little flurry. It was handled very smoothly, and most people never noticed."
"What kind of flurry?" I asked.
"How should I know? It seemed as if she said something embarrassing, the way children do. Berenice looked startled. Gaia was whisked off the Queen's lap, her mother grabbed her, looking as if she wanted to be swallowed by a chasm opening up, and you could see everyone nearby laughing and pretending nothing had happened. Next time I saw Gaia, she was playing with my Cloelia, and they both gave me a glare that said nobody should interrupt."
"Playing?" Helena demanded.
"Yes, they spent over an hour carrying imaginary water vessels from one of the fountains."
"What did you think of Gaia?"
"Too good mannered. Too nice natured. Too pretty and well favored. Don't say it: I know I'm just a rude grouse."
"We love you for it," I assured my sister affectionately. I now explained how Gaia had come to see me, and what she had said about her family. "I don't know what it's all about, but she was asking me for help. So what did you think of Gaia's mother? If someone in the family has it in for the child, could it be her?"
"Doubt it," said Maia. "She was far too proud of her little mite."
"We only met an uncle," Helena contributed. "Is the mother downtrodden?"
"Not noticeably, at least not when she is out in female company."
"But at home, who knows?… Did Cloelia tell Gaia she has an uncle who is an informer?"
"No idea. She could well have done."
"And on the other side, I suppose you don't know if Gaia told Cloelia anything about her family?"
"Helena, when Julia is older you will learn about this: I," said Maia, "was merely the chaperon who enabled my daughter to mingle with elevated people and dream that she herself was ludicrously important. I hired the litter that took us to the Palatine. I caused embarrassment by wearing too bright a gown and by making jokes about the occasion in a rather loud undertone. Other than that, I was superfluous. I was not allowed to know anything that Cloelia got up to when the girls were let loose together. My only other role was later at home, mopping her brow and holding the bowl when the excitement made her throw up all night."
"You are a wonderful mother," Helena assured her.
"Do mention it to my children sometime."
"They know," I said.
"Well, Cloelia won't think so when I have to break the news that she won't be chosen."
"Mothers all over Rome will have the same problem," Petro reminded her.
"All except the self-satisfied piece with the squint who produced Gaia Laelia." The child's mother had really offended Maia. But I reckoned it was merely by existing.
"It may not be so simple. Something is definitely amiss there. The child came to ask for help for a reason."
"She came to see you because she had a wild imagination and no sense of judgment," said Maia. "Not to mention a family who allow her to steal the litter and to traipse around town without her nurse."