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Philo smiled sadly. “Death is the ugliest thing in the world, and we see too much of it.”

“Especially in Aquae Sulis.”

He stared at me, patted me again on my upper arm, and walked away. I wasn’t sure whether he swallowed the story. The others did, without even tasting it.

The Ultor who killed Bibax and the Ultor who killed Calpurnius were two different people. That lead was written with capitals, deeply etched. This was a copy of a murder that was just three days old.

Calpurnius was killed because he made an appointment with someone-someone he thought he could shake down. He could collect from that someone to not tell me what he’d figured out, and he could collect from me to tell me a little of it. He played both sides against each other, and got the life squeezed out of him. And the poor bastard suffered. He wasn’t feeling any bono now.

I took a deep breath and looked at the spring, filling up with the bubbling, eternal water. Time for my interview with Faro Magnus.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Breakfast was ready by the time I got back home, something simple and quick because she knew I’d be in a hurry. She was watching me stuff my mouth with oats and honey. Our eyes met.

“I wanted to talk to you before you left. I don’t want what happened-I don’t want it to distract you.”

I swallowed hard, reaching for a gulp of cider. “I don’t trust Mumius to hold Faro for long. If I don’t show up early…”

“I know. I found out things yesterday I haven’t had a chance to tell you.”

Deep circles under her eyes this morning. She reached over and put her hand on mine.

“Two people murdered. There’s something evil here, and it frightens me. I can’t help it. Perhaps, Ardur … perhaps the gods sent you here to fight it.”

She took her hand back and put it away before it could distract me. Then she leaned into the basket chair, tucking her legs underneath her, and stared at her half-eaten breakfast.

I said: “I’ll fight, but they-whoever the hell ‘they’ are-don’t fight clean. They’ve targeted you. I don’t know if it’s connected to Bibax, and I don’t care. You’re my priority, goddamn it. Protecting you.”

She looked away, her voice low. “Of course you protect me. I can protect myself, too. I’ve been through the worst they can do.”

I swallowed my oatmeal and stood up to hold her, but she waved me back into the chair, face intent.

“About yesterday. Prunella told me the name of the man Secunda was in love with. I didn’t think it was important until now.”

“Who was it?”

“Faro.”

“Then why the hell-”

“Why was he at the party?” Her mouth formed a tight, bitter line. “I think Mama was saving him for herself.”

“You mean Materna-”

Gwyna shuddered. “Please, Ardur. Don’t mention her name. The sight of her face last night-after-”

“What makes you think Secundus would tolerate-even given the chance that Faro could make himself-”

“Secundus is totally dependent on her. He’s afraid of her. Surely you saw that last night. Although I don’t think it’s come to anything but fantasy on Materna’s part, she broke up their romance, hoping to hold on to Faro, and then threw a bone to her daughter.”

“In the form of Mumius. One better left buried.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“I’m reserving judgment until I see whether he’s still holding the bastard.”

“Faro is very good-looking, you know. It’s understandable.” She was looking at her fingernails.

I felt my lips pinch up against my teeth. “He reminds me of Philo.”

She sighed. “You wouldn’t say such things if you really knew him. Poor Philo.”

“ ‘Poor Philo?’ Why the hell is he so poor?”

“He was worried about me yesterday, but respectful. He spoke very highly of you, and said he’d heard about curse-deaths from patients, but never really paid attention. Thought it was part of the ghost-mine nonsense.”

“So why ‘poor Philo’?”

“Oh, nothing important. He’s from Hispania-Lusitania, I think. When he was a young man, he was a temple doctor for a healing god. Endo … Endovelicus or something. And he lost the only woman he ever truly loved.” She looked down at the table and blushed. “He said I reminded him of her.”

I looked around to see what was making the noise and realized it was my teeth grinding. So the bastard made the most out of his age. The smarmy bastard.

Gwyna looked up at me. “It’s just a story. Don’t be too hard on Philo.”

“Did you find out anything from anyone who didn’t want to sleep with you?”

The color in her cheeks increased. “Don’t be vulgar. I tried to talk to that boy’s grandmother-the one that died.”

“His name was Dewi.”

“She wouldn’t tell me anything. Gave me a baleful look, and kept making the sign against the evil eye.”

She shook her head, and a couple of stray blond tendrils tumbled down the side of her face. “The people … the women … they’re so afraid. Something needs to be done.”

I stood up, shoving the basket chair aside hard enough to make it squeak. “I’m going to do something right now.”

She looked down at her shaking hands. Behind the grief, anger. The Trinovantian woman I married.

“I hope you can find out who put the son of a bitch up to it. I’d gladly slit his throat myself.”

I took her by the shoulders. “Leave it to me. I’ll get back as soon as I can. We can separate ourselves from the Aquae Sulis social scene for one goddamn day.”

She grimaced. “I may as well let the talk spread before I start to wade in it.”

I walked out, leaving her to keep busy with the servants. Action was better for Gwyna. Normal. Not like the lethargy. Fury hit me full force, and my hands-my long, nimble doctor’s hands-were clenched and shaking.

My wife thought about killing herself last night. She’d been exposed and humiliated in front of people who weren’t fit to look at her. Someone had done it on purpose, had set her up to suffer. Now it was his turn.

One of the slaves brought Nimbus out to me. I was in a hurry to meet Faro Magnus.

* * *

The house was shuttered. No sound, no bluster, no pestering me to breed my mare. I patted Nimbus on the neck and tied her to the branch of a nearby ash.

A slave opened the door a crack. Older woman, terrified, shrinking as if I were going to hit her.

“Where’s Mumius?”

“The-the gentleman who stayed?”

I nodded. “Soldier. The only ‘gentleman’ in the house.”

Her eyes got bigger, and she flattened herself against the wall. “I’ll show you to the mistress.”

I strode after the old lady, who led me into a dark room where thin gruel and gray-looking eggs lay unadorned on a table. Materna was squatting in a chair, looking like a tick torn off a particularly juicy vein.

“Oh? So you’ve come back, have you? Come to apologize?”

I didn’t want to get too close. She smelled. The dim light highlighted the beard she was growing, reflected the shine on her beetle eyes. The kind of beetle that likes to eat dead flesh.

“Actually, no. Although maybe I should, Materna. Maybe I should.”

The crack of a triumphant smile started to crease her lower lip. “Well, if you think-”

I was in a hurry. I got closer and held my nose.

“I do think. About a lot of things. Like why you like to sit back and watch other people suffer. Like why you get your kicks from pain-and watching Faro stoke it. Better get your kicks where and while you can, Materna … since he won’t be stoking you.”

The beetle eyes hid under the beetle brows. “You rude, miserable-”

“Before we start on what I am, let’s start on what I’m not. I’m not sorry for what I said, what I did, what I’m saying now, or what I’m likely to say or do to you in the future. The only thing I’m sorry for is not having the time to say it well. You’re a sick woman. The kind of sick no doctor could heal. I wouldn’t even try.”