Saturnalia

LXI

'Anacrites is back!' Had it not been so serious, Helena would have been giggling. 'He didn't go to Nemi. He rode about seven miles then he decided you had sent him on a fool's errand. He came here to search the house.' I gulped. 'Where's Veleda?' 'Now,' said Helena, 'she is sleeping on a couch. At the time, she had gone out in the chair with Albia and Zosime to take some air in Caesar's Gardens.' 'How come? I gave strict orders she was to stay in at all times.' 'Don't be pompous. If I took any notice of your orders,' Helena told me, 'you would have lost her to Anacrites.' 'The stricter my orders are, the quicker you defy me.' 'That's right, darling. Do you want me to describe how enraged the Spy was when he went all over our property and could not find her? He had been so sure! I just stood in the hall with my arms folded and waited for his men to finish. That should have told him I was not afraid of discovery. The longer it lasted, the more he was sweating as his mistake dawned on him. All the soldiers stood to attention, with disapproval painted all over them. Julia and Favonia clung to me and cried their eyes out. We made a wonderful picture of an outraged matron and her children, offered grave offence – in her own home, where she should be safe from insult – moreover, while the father of the family was absent. I asked Anacrites icily whether he had obtained your permission to enter and search our house. I swear he blushed. When he left, his apology was so sickly I could hardly bear it.' I had calmed down. There was no way I would ever make Helena Justina a submissive partner who followed my rules. She knew how to handle a crisis. I myself would have tied Anacrites to the filthy underside of a manhole cover and left him to hang there in the dark with rat-bait in his boots. This way, he had put himself in the wrong, he must be scared that Helena or her father would complain to the Emperor – and he had failed to find the priestess even though he guessed I had her.

Helena continued, still enjoying her narration: 'After he apologised, I asked him about his headaches, implying I hoped they were unbearable. He's going to that man Cleander, for some treatment. Marcus, you'll be glad to hear it involves putting cups on him, with lighted herbs against his skin, and what sounds like quite a lot of blood-letting. '

I said it was time to get dressed for dinner. Helena told me it was too soon yet. I let her know that I was planning on getting undressed first, and staying undressed for quite some time. Later, in a private part of the house, at an inappropriate moment:

'There's another thing, Marcus – we had a busy morning. Petronius popped in to discuss the flute-player. Scythax seems confused, and has left him a message, showing that he thinks he was brought in because the boy was killed on the streets like the vagrants. Petro said he has to speak to Scythax and straighten this out. He will talk to you about it when he can.' 'Damn Petro. And damn talking…' Some time afterwards:

'Sweetheart, I ought to tell you… Your mother wants to organise a formal deputation to Vespasian, headed up by her old Vestal Virgin, when you go to beg for clemency for Veleda.'

Silence. Suddenly, one party sitting up abruptly: 'Oh Juno and Minerva, you are not serious. I don't have to plead for the priestess with my mother there?' 'The crabby Virgin too, dear one. Plus, if they can force her to be so magnanimous, poor Claudia Rufina…' Startled party collapses and hides her head under the pillow. Other party lies prone, recovering, and thinking about the frightening power of mothers…

'Claudia might just do it, Marcus. She really needs to win Quintus back. I haven't told you yet why the sanctuary priests at Nemi were so unpleasant to us. We were pretending to seek fertility treatment but we were unmasked when they detected that Claudia was already pregnant. '

I choked. 'So the authorities at Nemi would say the treatment works!'

'It's ironic, because she was hoping to avoid this. Everyone wondered why she wouldn't try to wean little Gaius. Poor Claudia had been told she would be safe, so long as she kept breast-feeding.' 'Your sweet-looking brother doesn't mess about. Their first is not yet a year old.' Slight embarrassed pause. 'And Marcus darling, there is something I should tell you Olympus! What was this about? 'I know it is not what we planned -' Any fool could work this one out. 'You mean, the priests were upset because neither of you needed the expensive ritual baths and the votive-sellers? You are both expecting?' 'Yes. Me too, sweetheart.' I kissed Helena ruefully. 'Life is getting expensive. If your deputation to the Emperor fails, I'll have to drag Veleda to the Capitol and strangle her myself We'll definitely need the mission fee.' Pause. 'So are you pleased then, Marcus?' We already had two children. Like every father who knows what a pregnancy means in short-term and long-term trouble, I had learned from practice how to lie well. 'Helena Justina, you do me an honour. I am delighted, of course.' The senator sent his carriage to fetch our large group to the Camillus party. Praetorian Guards, looking nervous, did a stop and search, but only found Helena and me, our two over-excited children, and Nux, who bit a Guardsman. The Guards pretended they had a routine road block to monitor all traffic on the A ventine embankment, but I guessed that the Spy had ordered them to check anyone who left my house. Too bad they never noticed that a carrying chair with Albia and Veleda had crept out via the back exit while they were occupied with us, and sneaked the other way up the Embankment under cover of a passing high-piled empty-amphora cart. (I can't bear to think how much it had cost to bribe the driver of that cart.)

We arrived first at the Capena Gate. We were able to witness, therefore, the moment when the priestess was greeted by Julia Justa. She looked Veleda up and down. It was a simple gesture, but killing. I don't know how Veleda felt, but I had sweat crawling all over me. 'Welcome to our house.' 'Thank you.' Claudia Rufina stood at her mother-in-law's shoulder, holding the baby in her arms. 'This is my son's wife.' 'We have met.' 'Welcome to our house,' repeated Claudia, making it sound like a death threat.

As we moved to the interior, towards sounds of music and revelry, Helena squeezed my arm and whispered, 'I'm starting to wonder if it was wise to bring Veleda for food and drink here!'

‘Don't worry. Poisonings are my favourite kind of case. The descriptions of the death agony are always so colourful.'

Veleda already sported a spine taut as a bow and a rictus, though it had nothing to do with anything fatal in her food bowl. Claudia, who had been wearing her legendary emerald parure, disappeared and rejoined us after adding extra gold bangles.

Julia Justa ran a Saturnalia feast on surprisingly traditional lines. Her slaves were in charge. King for the Day was a terrified boot-boy with sticky-out ears and a regal display of pimples, who waved his mock sceptre bravely but never uttered a word. A battalion of slaves were lounging in the various dining rooms, including a few brave souls outside on the garden couches, where they were ceremonially served by the noblewomen of the family. The senator and I were deputed to be wine-waiters, with muttered instructions to make sure anything consumed was well watered. I joked with Decimus that more slaves were here than I realised they owned; he said he had never seen half of them before either. As soon as he could do it surreptitiously, he was planning the male householder's traditional role at this festival: hiding by himself in his study, while the merrymakers got on with it. I said I might join him; he said I was welcome, but only if I helped him barricade the door. We set about choosing which wine to take with us. After a certain amount of enforced obedience to the slaves, who gave us impossible orders with a fine imperial manner, things relaxed (the slaves were now too busy eating their unaccustomed banquet to do much, and some were suffering biliousness because of the rich food). We managed to fill our own bowls from the laden comports. Julia and Favonia had learned their roles as inferiors and were scampering to and fro, delightedly trying to clean everybody's shoes for them. Claudia was showing what a wonderful maternal type she was by allowing my insistent daughters to keep running back with squeals of laughter to buff her gold sandals. Veleda watched snootily. 'I suppose even the girls among your tribes are so busy learning to be warriors, they have no childhood,' sneered Claudia. 'In Rome we would regard warmongering as a little unfeminine.' 'Your women sound rather feeble!' countered Veleda, venomously. 'Oh we Baeticans know how to fight back.' 'Surprising then, that you allowed your country to be overrun!' Helena and Julia separated them. Great bowls of nuts were carried in by the senator. Then, as the almonds and hazelnuts began to fly, we were joined by an unintended visitor. The jollity was at its height, which made the sudden silence more dramatic. The happy slaves all settled back, thinking 'Wey-hey! This is where the real party starts!'

In a doorway stood Quintus Camillus Justinus. He looked like any family's dopy son who had just come home and was slowly remembering that his mother had informed him three times that the Satumalia dinner was tonight. He lived here: the no-good son of the house – vague eyes, rumpled tunic that had not been changed for days, bristling chin left unshaven for even longer, floppy hair uncombed, slouching and relaxed. From his expression I guessed that nobody had yet told him that Veleda would be here. Surprisingly, he appeared to be sober. Sadly, both Claudia and Veleda had drunk quite a lot of wine.