“The peace of death?”
I liked arguments-and there was something about the way he said “healing god.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about Endovelicus or himself.
The eyes that met mine were moist and tender, full of a noble hurt. “For some, it’s the only kind they’ll know. We have a gift, Arcturus. A gift from the gods. And it is our duty-our absolute and final duty to-”
“Act like gods?”
I had a definite talent for quieting a room. Philo wriggled his goblet between his fingers. “We are gods to some people. When we save them. Sometimes the only way to save them, to help them-is to give them peace. Peace without suffering.”
The argument smelled bad. It carried the faint odor of delusion, with maybe a hint of rot. I rubbed my nose. I wasn’t against helping people. I could understand holding the sword, meeting the shades with Roman honor. I wasn’t even sure why I was arguing.
Octavio leaned forward. “No suffering. That’s what I say. If people want to die, let them. Give them the right-the control. Give them-”
“A little help?”
His chin jutted forward. “If that’s what they want, yes.”
I looked back at him and smiled. “I don’t mean to play Socrates. I only speak for myself, of course. But that’s a hell of a responsibility. Life and death. I try to pick only one, and even then I lose sometimes. Like Philo said. I’m not saying I couldn’t kill. I’m not even saying I couldn’t help someone who wanted to die. I’m just saying I wouldn’t want to make a living out of it.”
Another pause walked in and poured itself a drink. Sulpicia’s observation was as dry as her lips weren’t. “Well, for one thing it would be hell to collect your fee.”
It was one of those extra-riotous laughs, the kind when something unpleasant is finally over, and everyone’s relieved it hadn’t been worse. The game began, and Octavio calmed down and aimed at the target instead of me. He didn’t hit either of us.
Philo made the second toss and missed. His hands were still shaking.
My head hurt. I wanted to go home. Octavio-Philo-Grattius, Secundus-Papirius-Vitellius-Sestius. The list of tainted men, men with secrets to hide, seemed endless. Add Bibax to that list. Good old dead Bibax.
I sipped my wine. I could even add Arcturus. I enjoyed ripping that leg open tonight. If he ever threatened Gwyna again, I’d enjoy killing him. That’s your nasty little secret, Arcturus. Keep it buried. Keep it deep. I drank again and wondered if we were any closer to leaving Aquae Sulis.
Vitellius was taking his turn and splashed Crassa instead. While everyone fussed over the old lady, a slave with a worried look came to get Philo. The good doctor reappeared in the doorway, mouth grim. He crooked his finger at me. I excused myself while Sulpicia bumped into Simio to make him miss.
“What is it?”
“Papirius. Here to see you.”
I was tired of unexpected visitors. Philo and I walked to the front of the house. Papirius was wrapped in a thick mantle, his body spelling impatience. There were three other priests with him.
“Papirius.”
“Favonianus.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Philo told me you were coming to dinner.”
“And?”
He pinched his mouth. “We’ve had our differences, but you represent the governor. I’m here as a courtesy-to warn you.”
“Warn me? What do you mean, warn-”
“This is what I mean.”
He shoved a small leaf of thin bark at me-with writing on it. I knew what it was before I looked at it.
“It was found under the temple door. One of the priests brought it to me. I-I don’t have the authority to arrest you-”
“You’re goddamn right you don’t. This isn’t proof, Papirius-this is a setup. I was at the mines when Faro was killed. I’ve got four mercenaries who worked for the syndicate at my house right now-the legion will be picking them up tonight or early tomorrow morning. Or did you already know?”
His robes switched in a puff of night air like a cat’s tail. “I came here-purely as a favor-”
“You came because you can’t wait for me to get the hell out of town. But I’ve got news for you. I want out. Out of this foul little shithole you’ve made, you and Octavio and Grattius and your cozy little mining operation.”
His face stood out pinched and drained and white, shining dully in the dark.
“You’re all corrupt. All of you. You knew what was going on, free lead, free development-and you didn’t give a damn. But now it’s out of control. Murders, left and right. The legion involved.” Contempt bit into him and stuck, like ice on a wet palm. “Silver tarnishes so goddamn easily, doesn’t it?”
He took a step backward. Fear and guilt were everywhere tonight. Even in a priest’s robe.
“What-what are you going to do, Arcturus? This could be dangerous to you.” Philo kept his hand on my shoulder. It was heavy. I was staring at Papirius.
“I’m going to do what you asked me to do. What I’ve been doing all along. Find out who killed Bibax. And Faro. And Calpurnius. And others, too-people you didn’t even notice were gone.”
I crumpled up the note asking Faro to meet me at the cemetery and threw it at Papirius’s feet.
“Say a prayer to Sulis. Maybe she can clean up your fucking sty.”
Philo and I left him standing there, his mantle trailing in the dark wind and rain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I don’t remember how I got home. I squeezed her arm, made sure she was still there. “You all right?”
“I’m not the one who talked to Papirius. Ardur-there’s nothing they can-”
“I’m tired. Particularly of threats. We’re close, Gwyna. Otherwise they wouldn’t give a shit.” I fell on the couch. “Lovely little town, Aquae Sulis. With just a touch of leprosy.”
She sat beside me. “It’s late. I think we should go to sleep.”
My muscles uncoiled and stretched, agreeing with her. I overruled them. “You go. I should check on Draco.”
She stood up. “Are you sure? Can’t it wait until-”
I held my hand out to her, and she pretended to pull me up. “Until I can eat a leisurely breakfast, and take a leisurely stroll to survey the estate, and stop by the flower beds to gather some petals, and-”
“Go on, Ardur.” She held her face up for me to kiss, and I started with it and ended elsewhere. She smoothed my hair off my forehead and traced a finger down my cheek.
“Don’t be too long,” she whispered. And walked out of the room like an invitation.
Several of the servants were guarding the door. They saluted me as I walked by. Arcturus. General of slaves and breaker of curses. A man who was tired of running, and tired of wondering, and just plain goddamn tired.
The hired thugs were sleeping. They snored and smacked, stretching their legs in the cramped room, curled on the floor as if it were a featherbed. A gift, the last sleep. Draco was still awake, though there were three slaves standing watch.
“Anything?”
He shook his head. “They’re from out of town. Near Iscalis. Some worked the mine, some he just picked up.”
“Did they give a description?”
“Small man, Roman, educated. Not from Britannia. That’s all they knew.” He looked embarrassed, as if he should’ve found out where their second cousins were born.
“Thanks, Draco. One thing-ask if they heard about our visit to the mine. If they did, make sure they make a statement of that fact to the soldiers.”
His eyebrows wrinkled in puzzlement. “Yes-but-”
“Someone’s trying to set me up-like I thought they would.”
Bewilderment deepened the lines in his forehead and made him look sinister in the flickering orange light. I patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, Draco. You’ve been magnificent. There’s no one I’d rather have with me in a fight.”
His smile lit the room better than the lamp, and I turned to leave. “Send someone to wake me when the soldiers arrive.”
I stood outside the villa, looking at the violet-black sky. The air was fresh and clean, like the magical water. I should break the pipes, flood the town, let the waters wash away the evil.