But there was nothing unusual in this — indeed I was slightly surprised that Faustina should mourn the death of Crassus’ child. Unless. .
‘Germanicus was the father?’
She turned away. ‘How can I know? I hope not — or rather, I hope so, since the child is dead.’
‘But it might have been Rufus’?’
She looked at me and her eyes were trembling with tears. ‘Yes. Perhaps. Germanicus may have guessed. But he did not seem to care. He liked me. . swollen. His only concern was that I should stop bleeding and be purified, so I could get back to his bed again. He had Regina make a potion for me.’
‘Was it successful?’
She grimaced. ‘I did not take it. I was in no haste. But I would have had to come to him soon. I could not delay much longer. No doubt it would have worked. Regina is skilled with herbs. Germanicus thought so. He was afraid of her, you know. She made a love potion for him years ago, he claimed — she is plain-featured, and thin, not how he likes his women — and he would not eat or drink while she was in the villa without Daedalus tasting first.’
Despite my throbbing head, I smiled. The idea of ugly Germanicus employing a food taster to protect him from a plain woman was laughable. ‘And did she make a love potion this time?’
Faustina laughed. ‘Perhaps. She was certainly confident of being married soon, she told me so. But if she made a potion, Crassus must have known a cure. He persuaded her to take money, I think. She left here without him and we have not seen her since.’
‘Married?’ I said. ‘But to whom? To Crassus, or to Daedalus?’
She laughed again. ‘You think perhaps the taster took the potion? That may be true. Daedalus liked her. Rufus would believe it, he had faith in these things. Myself, I trust her remedies for wounds and illness, not for charms. She is a healer, not a sorceress. I know, she taught me something of her art. Simple cures: ivy for burns and bruises, aconite for pains in the joints and teeth, Hercules-wort for a wound, hellebore for ulcers, and belladonna for the eyes. All the herbs of Saturn. They have great power.’
‘And most of them are poisons, are they not?’
‘For those with knowledge, no, or you would long be dead. I put bruised henbane and hemlock on your head, and you have sniffed the fume of them for hours — it is to soothe the swelling and reduce the ache. But the dose is vital. A man absorbs the essence through his skin. Too much of it can kill.’
I put a tentative hand to my throbbing skull. There was a tender lump on the back of my head, and when I took my hand away there was indeed a small curled leaf adhering to my finger. I picked it off and looked at it in dismay.
‘Henbane?’ I said. ‘Hemlock?’ I would have to soak my fingers in the stream.
‘Parsley,’ Faustina said. ‘To stop the bruise from blackening. I have removed the others, though the leaves of all three are not unalike. Aconite too.’
And any of those poisons, I thought, might have dispatched Germanicus. Perhaps they had done. No wonder Crassus feared his would-be wife.
‘Tell me something of Regina,’ I said. ‘Did you like her?’
‘Very much. Too good for Crassus — yet she wanted him. She was no longer young, of course, and her family have lost their lands. The army took them, she says, and her father died leaving her with nothing. She has no dowry, otherwise Crassus might have taken her, plain or not. But, equally, without a husband she was afraid of starving. I suppose that was why she wanted to marry Crassus. It cannot have been for the charm of his company.’ She spoke with fervour.
‘Yes.’ I understood that. When the army settled in a place, they took over the surrounding farms as a terratorium to feed the legions. Often the local landowners were reduced to working as labourers on the fields they once owned. But it was harder for a woman, especially an older one. Even Crassus, presumably, was better than beggary.
‘She was good to me,’ Faustina said. ‘She tried to influence Germanicus, about the baby. Tried to persuade him to let it live. Daedalus did too. It might have been given to some childless peasant, or a Roman family who wanted a future whipping boy. But Crassus had it drowned, just the same. Without Daedalus, though, it might have been stoned for sport, or left to the dogs.’
‘You could be forgiven,’ I said softly, ‘for feeling murderous yourself.’
‘I do. I did. But I did not kill Crassus. And Rufus did not either, for anything he says.’
‘He says — or rather, he implies — that he was with you,’ I said. ‘Where did he meet you, during the procession?’
She hesitated. ‘You must ask him that.’
‘I have asked him. Now I am asking you.’
I saw her waver. She was an honest woman but she would have lied, cheerfully, to protect Rufus. Perhaps in that regard she was less scrupulous than he was. But she did not know how to answer.
She was not above inventing some reply. I said, ‘I should warn you, someone followed him.’
‘Aulus!’ she said at once. She saw a way out, and took it. ‘But since you have a witness, you must know where we went! Now, citizen, you should lie back a little. You have done too much. You are turning pale.’
I could not argue. I could feel the blood draining from my face, and I felt suddenly giddy.
‘Come,’ she said, ‘I will fetch you a linctus. Junio!’
The last words were a summons. Junio came hastening in. ‘Great Jove,’ he said, when he saw me, ‘you are whiter than a marble tessella. And Marcus is asking to see you.’
‘Then you had better show him in,’ I said. It is one of the more obvious secrets of long life, not keeping the governor’s representative waiting.
Chapter Nine
Marcus, of course, did not come unattended. Andretha was with him, fluttering and bowing like a courting pigeon.
I was lying back onto the bed by this time. I tried to stand when Marcus arrived, but he waved me to lean back against the cushions which Junio had found me. I was still reclining, therefore, while he sat down beside me on a gilded chair — I felt like the governor receiving homage.
Andretha flapped a hand in my direction. ‘Here he is, excellence. Recovering well, as you see.’ He glanced at Marcus’ face and hastened to change his tone. ‘But what a terrible thing. That this should happen to him, in my care! Anything that I can do to help, please name it, anything.’
‘What do you need, old friend?’ Marcus said affably, to me.
It was almost worth being knocked on the head for. Lying back and giving orders like the emperor himself.
‘A little wine, perhaps? Some meat or soup? This cur shall fetch it for you, or I’ll have him whipped.’ Marcus has a vitriolic style when he chooses.
I could have had anything the villa offered, but I felt delicate. ‘Water,’ I said, ‘and a little fruit.’
Marcus whirled on Andretha. ‘Do you see what your carelessness has brought him to? Dining on fruit and water. My poor friend!’ I did not tell him that in my workshop I often dined on less. He gestured to Andretha who was duly cowed. ‘Fetch it — and some wine for me. And when I find who did this. .’
The chief servant, in his desire to please, bowed himself out backwards like the lowliest of slaves.
Marcus leaned forward. ‘He will be punished, too, of course,’ he said, lazily. ‘But that does not help the matter. This attack has laid you low and disturbed my plans. Here you are, hurt, and you have had no chance to learn anything.’
Typically patrician. He was concerned for me, of course, but equally concerned about his errand. I must have been still half dazed, for I could not resist boasting. ‘I have learned a little, excellence.’
I should have known better. Had I agreed with him, and simply lain back complaining of my head, I might have spent the next ten days recovering in comfort, with Andretha and Junio tending my every need. As it was, though, Marcus brightened.