Germanicus

25

There wasn't much we could do the next day either. I sent our last skivvy Troas round to Marsus's place with a note: he wouldn't be in, but he'd get it later. In it I just said who we were and mentioned Perilla's mother. The rest was up to Marsus, but if he'd an ounce of hospitality in him the least we could expect was a free meal. I thought maybe this being our last day at the Cedars we might spend it lounging around the garden soaking up the atmosphere and being pampered by Theano. We didn't. Perilla hauled me off for another day's sightseeing, this time in the other direction, up into the hills to Daphne. Temples and statues again. A lovely place but believe me you don't want to know!

When we got back Sextillus was already there, with a letter from Lamia apologising and promising it wouldn't happen again. No mention of Rufus, but reading between the lines it was clear that the governor had talked to him, and if the bastard wasn't singing soprano in the Third Gallic's next glee club concert he could count himself lucky. With the letter was an invitation to a party in two days' time. That I could've done without. Dinner parties and party-parties I enjoy, but I'd bet my bootstraps this would be the kind of formal occasion where you stand around drinking second-rate booze and making inane conversation with people you'd normally run a mile to avoid and who'd run twice that to avoid you. Still, it might be useful, and we could be sure it was the only place in Antioch we wouldn't bump into Rufus.

The day after, we moved in to the new house. It was over in the north-east corner of the city near the Parmenius, the open stream that locals call the Donkey Drowner. Like I said, a nice area, laid out with plush urban villas each set round a pillared courtyard and with a scrap of garden attached that back at Rome wouldn't've fallen far short of a public park; in fact you could've just about fitted one of our Janiculan villas in amongst the rose beds. Forget comfort, as soon as we stepped inside the place I had the definite feeling we'd moved upmarket.

The chief slave met us at the door. He was a local Greek by the name of Critias.

'Welcome, lord and lady,' he said. 'I hope you'll be very happy here.'

'We'll try hard.' While he pocketed the huge tip I gave him to make sure we were, I looked round at the pricey decor. Barring the subject matter, it reminded me of Crispus's club. Inlaid marble by the square yard. Frescoes. Oh, and statues, of course. A good dozen of the buggers, enough bronze wrestlers and river gods to stock a minor square back home. And this was only the hall. 'Hey, Critias. You ever worked for Romans before?'

'No, lord.' He sniffed. 'However, I'm ready to make allowances. Now if you'd care for a tour of the house the main rooms are this way.'

He led off. This bastard would need watching, I could see that already. And the sniff was pure Bathyllus. Next time I saw the little guy I'd have to ask him if they were cousins.

We were up on the first floor inspecting the linen closets when what sounded like a full-scale battle broke out below. Perilla and I looked at each other.

'You got a private arena tucked away downstairs we haven't seen yet, pal?' I asked Critias. 'Or are the Parthians giving us a house warming?'

He never even blinked: Bathyllus again. Maybe it was something dietary. 'Neither, lord. I imagine that will be the two chefs, ours and yours, discussing future menus.'

Hell and bloody damnation. I remembered now, and it was too late. A full complement of staff, Perilla had said. We should've thought of that before we let Meton wander off on his own. I took the stairs at a run, hoping I could get to the kitchen before any serious blood was spilled.

It was a close thing. Arena was right, these guys weren't kidding. I'd seen tamer scraps at the midday Games. Our guy was backed up against the table swinging a chopper while his colleague held his wrist with one hand and throttled the life out of him with the other.

'Hey, Meton,' I said as calmly as I could manage. 'Put the cleaver down, okay? Down! That's the boy. And you, whatever your name is, just slacken off, will you?'

'Lysias!' Critias snapped.

The other chef gave Meton's throat one last squeeze before reluctantly taking his hand away.

'That's better,' I said. 'Now listen. I know two chefs in one kitchen isn't such a hot idea but you'll just have to come to some arrangement. You think that's remotely possible?' They glared at each other. Yeah, well, maybe it wasn't, but that was hard luck on them. Stray ears in the soufflé I could do without. 'Because if you don't, sunshines, we'll call in an outside caterer now and you can spend your time boiling barley mash for the horses in the stables. Eating it, too. You get me?'

I left them to it without waiting for an answer. Perilla was waiting in the hall, examining the statues.

'Staff problems already?' she said.

'It's no joke, lady. We nearly had one blue chef and two halves in there. Critias.' He'd followed me out. 'You keep an eye on these two bastards, right? The first one to use a filleting knife on anything other than a chicken is cold meat.'

'Yes, lord.' The guy was grinning like a drain. Gods! Was I the only sane person around here? 'Incidentally, one of the lord Vibius Marsus's slaves brought a message earlier. He would be delighted if you would drop in for dinner tonight if it isn't too short notice. Sundown would be convenient.'

'Hey, great!'

'May I send a message to that effect, lord? It may also ameliorate the kitchen situation a little. Temporarily.'

'You do that.'

'And then perhaps you'll wish an early lunch. I will inform the chef. Chefs.' He paused. 'Lamb chops and a cold tongue, perhaps.'

Oh, ha ha. Bathyllus's cousin, for sure. Perilla giggled, and I glared at her.

'Look, sunshine,’ I said. ‘Just do your job and leave out the gags, okay?'

'Yes, lord.'

This place was going to be fun. Oh, sure. I could tell that now.

Vibius Marsus was a lot younger than I thought he'd be; a fit man in his late thirties with a nose like the business end of a battleship. When the slave showed us into the dining room he bounced up from his couch like someone had wired him with springs.

'Valerius Corvinus! Come in, my dear fellow!' he cried. 'Delighted to see you! No, you take the chief guest couch, we're on our own this evening, strictly family. This is my wife Sulpicia.'

They could've been brother and sister. If anything, Sulpicia's nose had the edge. When they kissed it must've been like a refight of Actium.

'Pleased to meet you, Valerius Corvinus.' I got a smile like a well-bred parrot's. 'Welcome to Antioch.'

'And this must be Perilla!' Marsus was beaming. 'Good grief, you have changed, haven't you? You're quite…ah…' He paused.

'Yeah, she is, isn't she?' I said. 'Very.'

'Sit down and behave yourself, Publius,' Sulpicia murmured. I grinned, and so did Perilla. 'Simeon, serve the wine, please.'

The slave took the jug from its cooler. Marsus was still gripping Perilla's shoulders like an absent-minded octopus. 'How long has it been, my dear?’ he said. ‘Fourteen years? Fifteen?'

'Longer. It was just before Stepfather was exiled. I was seven. I didn't think you'd remember.'

'Nonsense! Of course I do!' He gave her one last hug before stretching out next to his wife. 'Sulpicia, don't fuss! Sit down, Perilla. How's your mother?'

'Not well,' Perilla said gently, taking the other half of my couch.

'Ah. I'm sorry.' Marsus didn't pursue the matter: maybe he knew about Fabia Camilla, or maybe he was just responding to the tone. 'Corvinus, your glass. Make sure we've all got some wine, Simeon, and then bring in the starters. Come on, boy, stir yourself!'

They were glasses, not as good as Lamia's but still lovely work. I held mine up for the guy to fill just so I could see the wine shining in the lamplight. I'd have to find a dozen of these to bring back before we left. Certainly there was nothing in Rome to touch them. All they needed to set them off was a good Falernian.

'And how are you enjoying Antioch?' Sulpicia's look took in both of us.

'It's wonderful,' Perilla said.

'You've been up to Daphne?'

'Yes. We went yesterday.'

'A lovely town.' Marsus nodded. 'Mind you, I can't stand sightseeing myself, Once you've seen one statue you've seen them all. Sulpicia dragged me round when we first arrived but now I can't be bothered. You look as if you agree, Corvinus.'

'Yeah.' I was beginning to like the guy. His wine was good, too, although I couldn't place it. Cypriot, maybe; I wasn't too well up on white Cypriot. 'You know how many statues there are in Daphne, sir?'

'Three hundred and twenty-six,' Marsus said promptly. 'You counted them too?'

'Yeah.'

We laughed. The slaves brought in the appetisers: a big plate of steamed shellfish, little rissoles, cold beans with fennel and the usual olives and raw vegetables with fish pickle dip.

'And how is your new house?' Sulpicia selected a rissole. 'It belongs to old Athenodorus, doesn't it?'

'That's right,' Perilla said. 'He's gone off to Corinth for two months.'

'Ah, yes. His sister. A lovely man, Athenodorus, although his head slave Critias can be a pain, as I remember.'

'I think Marcus can handle him. It's the chef we're having trouble with.'

'Lysias?' Her eyes widened. 'Oh, surely not! He's one of the best cooks in the city!'

We told the story of the fight in the kitchen. Sulpicia laughed.

'Well of course that's different,' she said. 'Professional jealousy. It happens all the time here.' She turned to Marsus. 'You remember when Parthenius's coachman took a knife to that other fellow, dear? Poor Vonones's groom?' I stiffened. 'They disagreed over the best treatment for a split hoof, as I remember.'

'Vonones.' Perilla's eyes were on her plate. 'Wasn't he some sort of Parthian pretender?' Good girl! Very nicely done.

'Oh, no.' Marsus was frowning slightly. 'No, not quite, Perilla. He spent some time here before we shipped him off to Cilicia, that's all. But speaking of grooms-'

'Yeah, I've heard about Vonones.' I couldn't let Marsus off the hook now; we might not get another chance. 'One of Augustus's tame Parthian princes, wasn't he? Got himself killed in the end trying to break house arrest and escape to Scythia.'

'Yes, that's right.' Marsus's frown had deepened and the bounce was gone. 'You're very well informed. Remarkably so, in fact.'

'How did it happen exactly?'

'I don't remember, to tell you the truth. Not my province. In both senses of the word.'

'Don't be silly, dear.' Sulpicia had picked out another rissole and was neatly quartering it. 'It was Cousin Fronto who rearrested him. And then he was stabbed by that fool of a man in Fronto's troop. The gaoler with the same name as that slave we had with the drink problem. Remmius.'

Marsus leaned over and took a spoonful of clams. His face was expressionless.

'Quite correct,' he said. 'I'd forgotten.'

'Nonsense.' Sulpicia chewed her piece of rissole delicately. 'Cousin Fronto's a cavalry commander, Corvinus, with the Sixth in Laodicea. He was seconded to Vonones's guard.'

'Who by? The governor?' I gave her my best smile. 'That'd be Piso then, wouldn't it?'

'Yes, it would.' Marsus tried a smile that didn't quite work. 'Perilla, do have some of these clams before I eat them all. They really are delicious.'

'They are, aren't they?' Perilla took one or two onto her plate. 'Where do you get them?'

'The best place is just up from the Old Market. I'm sure our chef can give you details.'

'Really? Now what about eels? Meton was asking only the other day whether…'

Lovely. While she kept Marsus talking I turned to Sulpicia. 'Did you know Vonones well?’ I said. ‘Socially, I mean?'

'Oh, yes. He was a charming man. A little…' — she paused — 'well, he wasn't very fond of women, if you understand me. Most unusual for a Parthian. But perfectly charming. And of course terribly generous. I remember once Plancina showing me a necklace that he…Oh, Publius! You are clumsy! Now look what you've done! Simeon, get a cloth, please.'

'I'm sorry, dear, I didn't see it.' Marsus dabbed at the spreading pool of wine from his overturned glass. 'Perhaps we should have the main course now in any case. Simeon, get your lads to clear away, will you? Now, Corvinus.' He gave me a very sharp look. 'Let's have the really important news. How are the Reds doing in Rome this season?'

About as well as I was, seemingly. Like the accident the change of subject was intentional, and there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. We talked about this and that, and the evening turned out pretty pleasant, but when I tried to bring the conversation round to Piso again I found myself politely stonewalled. It was quite deliberate; Marsus knew what he was doing, and he knew I knew he knew. So I wasn't exactly surprised when after the dessert had been cleared away and Sulpicia had taken Perilla off for a private chat he sent Simeon out of the room and turned towards me.

'Now you listen here, young man,' he said. I swallowed: the guy didn't sound nearly so bluff and hearty as he had through the dinner. Not even particularly friendly. 'I don't know what your game is in Antioch, but I'd advise you to give it up. Now. Before it lands the both of you in trouble.'

'Is this an official warning, deputy governor?' I said.

I got a slow stare like I was one of the clams he'd been spooning down that had sat up and spat in his eye. 'No. Not yet,' he said at last. 'Although it might be, later. At the very least. And not from me, either.'

'You feel like telling me why?'

'Why you're being warned off?' Well, that was straight enough. 'No, Corvinus, I don't. All I'll say is Piso and Germanicus are touchy subjects of conversation in this city and the case is closed on both of them. Closed, locked and barred. If you're wise you'll leave it like that. All right?'

'This go for Vonones too, sir?'

'Especially for…' He stopped himself. 'Yes. For Vonones too.'

'Uh-huh.' I sipped my wine. 'One question. Just one. Why should Piso have had Vonones killed?'

I'd expected to shock him, and I did; but not in the way I thought I would. In fact, Syria's deputy governor almost laughed out loud. Which told me just what I wanted to know.

At which point Sulpicia and Perilla came back, and Marsus pretended we'd been discussing something else.

When it was time to go, he clapped me on the shoulder, kissed Perilla and saw us out.

'Goodnight, Corvinus,' he said. 'I've enjoyed this evening. Look after yourself, and look after this girl here.'

'Sure.' I waited while Perilla climbed into our carriage. Marsus's hand held me back.

'Don't forget what we talked about, either,' he said.

That I didn't answer. I liked Marsus; I liked him a lot. But I knew the bastard was hiding something. Eventually I'd find out what it was.