"I thought a priesthood was for life. Some dereliction of his duties?" Helena chuckled, ignoring the speaker's pomposity. Priests who disgraced their office might be asked to resign, but it was rare. For one thing, the priests of the official cult had the power to cover up their crimes and the wherewithal to control critics. They could be absolute bastards, yet the truth would never get out. Let's be honest: they could be bastards and everybody knew it, but still no controls would be applied.
The Flamen Pomonalis was stiff: "The Flaminica, his wife, has died. Since the Flaminica partakes officially in many ceremonies, it is necessary for a widowed Flamen Dialis to step down. Otherwise, essential rites would be incomplete."
Helena's own voice grew cold. "Hard, I always thought, for a man to lose both his wife and his position at a stroke. Especially when the position is so significant, and its rituals are so demanding. Gaia's grandfather must now find his life rather empty. Is this part of the problem?"
"There is no problem."
"Well, I am relieved to hear it." She had the knack of seeming to engage in mere polite conversation, while she doggedly pursued a point. She wanted to know what had been happening in this family to make a young child take the unusual step of seeking outside help. A thwarted six-year-old would normally slam doors, scream herself into convulsions, and throw her wooden doll through a window, but then be pacified in a few seconds with just a bowl of honeyed nuts. "Even so, your young niece came here with a tale of woe and now you too are here to discuss it… What puzzled us was how Gaia chose Falco to confide in. How would she have known who he was?"
"She may have heard his name mentioned in connection with his appointment as Procurator of the Sacred Birds." It gave me a thrill to imagine some crusty old ex-priest of Jupiter exploding with rage over his breakfast while he heard that the Emperor had given ancient responsibilities to an upstart informer-who would now be allowed to poke around with impunity among the temple enclosures. Was that why Vespasian had done it? "And I believe," conceded the Flamen Pomonalis, "Gaia Laelia met a relative of yours at the reception when certain promising young ladies were introduced to Queen Berenice."
His significant tone seemed rather overdone. The only link I had with Berenice was my sister Maia's uncharacteristic foray to the Palace, the day I had first tried to find her. Had the function Maia attended been stuffed with female relatives of priests? I controlled a snigger, wondering what my sister had made of that.
Helena must have decided to pursue the mystery with Maia later. "Well, I suggest," she said, so crisply that it seemed like a rebuke, "you tell me exactly what your family's concerns are."
"Our concerns should be obvious!" the flamen snapped. Bluffing. Hoping little Gaia had never said whatever it was her precious family was hoping to keep quiet. Or, if Gaia had revealed too many secrets, trying to play down their importance.
"Don't worry. Falco and I know how to regard the complaints of an unhappy child. So embarrassing, is it not?"
"Children exaggerate," he declared, relieved that she seemed to understand.
"I hope that's the case!" agreed Helena, with feeling. Then she faced him with it: "Gaia says someone in her family threatened to kill her."
"Ridiculous!"
"Not you, then?"
"How dare you!"
"So who was it?"
"Nobody!"
"I do want to believe that is true."
"Whatever you were told…" He paused, hoping Helena would tell him more details. No chance.
"You are requesting us not to interfere." Helena's tone was quiet. I knew what that meant: for her, this visit from the flamen made it look as if the child's appeal for help might be justified.
"I am glad we understand each other."
"Oh yes," she said. Oh yes! She understood him all right.
"No one could possibly wish her harm. There are high hopes of Gaia Laelia," concluded the Flamen Pomonalis. "When the ballot for the new Vestal Virgin is drawn…" He trailed off.
So a new Vestal was needed, and the little girl I met on my front doorstep had been put forward for the privilege. Could her uncle be suggesting to Helena that Gaia's name was certain to be drawn by the Pontifex Maximus in the formal lottery? Impossible! Vespasian's hand would have to dig around in an urn among a whole bunch of tablets. How could anyone know in advance which one would be gripped by the pontifical paw? I felt my face screw up in disgust, as I saw that the Vestal Virgins' lottery must be fixed.
How could they do it? Easy as wink. Only one name written on all of the tablets. Or one tablet loaded, like a bad dice. Or quite simply, Vespasian would just announce the preselected name, without looking at the tablets at all.
Pointy-head was still enthusing. "It would be a new departure in the family-but a great honor. We are all absolutely delighted."
"Does that include Gaia herself?" asked Helena coolly.
"Gaia is passionate about being entered."
"Little girls do have such quaint ideas." The Vestals were not Helena's favorite women, apparently. I was surprised. I thought she would have approved of their honored role and status. "Well, let us hope she is successful," Helena went on. "Then she will be taken straight to the House of the Vestals and handed into the control of the Pontifex Maximus."
"Er-quite," agreed the flamen, belatedly sensing an undercurrent. Presuming, however, that his appeals had been successful, he seemed to be about to leave. Taking a firm hold on Julia, I slid down the corridor and towards another room where I could conceal myself. I glimpsed Pomona's priest, in his cloak and birchwood prong, with his back to me as he bade Helena farewell; he hid me from her view as I crept past.
I waited until I was sure he had left before I emerged.
As I opened the door behind which I had been hiding, a small determined figure blocked my way. Julia was whipped from my grasp. I groaned, but only quietly.
I was facing a tiny, frail old woman whose black eyes bored like bradawls. A bad conscience-for which I had no damned reason-pinned me to the spot.
"I suppose you have a good explanation," announced the new arrival fiercely, "why you failed to come home for the little one's birthday?" I did have. Famia's funeral rites, such as they were, for the few scraps that had been left of him by the lion: an explanation, though not good. "And I do know what happened to Famia-though I had to hear it from dear Anacrites!"
"Hello, Mother," I said. I made it sound meek. "We were forced to spend Julia's first birthday becalmed off Otia… Are you going to congratulate me on my new status as a pillar of the state religion?"
"Don't give me any of your silly nonsense," scoffed Ma.
As usual, I had done what I thought she wanted, only to find her unimpressed.
VI
This had turned into a tiring day. First, I had had to dance around Petronius Longus while he showed his pique; now here was Ma. She had various complaints: primarily why I had let her favorite, Anacrites, come home from Tripolitania half dead from the wounds he acquired in the arena. Playing gladiators had been his own idea, but I would get the blame for it. Luckily, it meant he was back as a lodger at Ma's house for further nursing, so she was not entirely upset.
"Why are you letting the poor thing go back to his job at the Palace?"
"Anacrites is grown up, Ma. His career decisions are nothing to do with me."
"You two worked so well together."
"We made a good pairing for the Census. That's over now."
"You could find other work to share."
"Neither of us wanted to remain in partnership. I showed him up."
"You didn't like him, you mean." Ma kept insisting that I did not really know Anacrites; that I had missed his fine sensitivity; that I belittled his talent. My own theory was that anyone who had tried to persuade an exotic foreign potentate to murder me should be allowed to run his own life-after being sealed in a barrel and dumped a thousand feet under the sea. Somewhere rough off Britain, preferably. "You never gave him a chance. Listen, Anacrites has his sights set on running a new branch of the security services. You could help him with that, Marcus-"