The Ides of April

LIII

Only much later, after I had been taken home and had flung myself on my bed in complete collapse, did it strike me how peculiar we must have looked there on the Clivus Publicius, so what a lucky escape we had had. Tiberius was not just coughing with exertion, but his face was bruised and cut as if he had been in a professional boxing bout. I had such a sore windpipe I could hardly breathe, while the sweat in my eyes from so much running must have made my cosmetics run. He had lost his cloak early in the proceedings; I never had one. We must have seemed incoherent and agitated even to Praetorians, who are used to meeting all kinds of bad characters, offering them all kinds of lame excuses.

Using his mysterious influence, Tiberius extricated us. We fell in with some vigiles. I was put in a chair and escorted to Fountain Court. A guard was posted. My brain was alive with wild images of the night. Despite that, I must have fallen into a deep sleep.

Next day I awoke knowing we had no plans. The situation seemed impossible. Yesterday the cult women had given us a physical focus for our hunt, but today's rites would all take place in the Circus Maximus. Even if our quarry bothered to go, among two hundred thousand people he would be invisible. He surely would not be so stupid as to attack the ceremonies. Otherwise, Andronicus had shown he had no fear of a vigiles' search-rightly. Even with no funds he was resourceful. If he lay low in the city, he could escape detection indefinitely. He might even flee from Rome. We had somehow to flush him out, and fast. As I struggled to rise, wash and change into normal day clothes, I had no ideas how to do that.

I went to the Stargazer. Seating myself stiffly at one of the inside tables, I signalled to Junillus for bread rolls and hot mulsum. Of his own accord he brought over the remains of the main cold meat platter; he shook out the ends of various olive bowls among the last slices of Lucanian sausage and shreds of smoked ham on the big dish from which he made takeouts and counter snacks for early workers. My vigiles minder stood upright, having something basic. Eating automatically, I fell into a vacant dream.

It was a warm day with a breeze, not chilly. Mid-morning, for I had slept in late. No other customers.

Life seemed bad. No hope, no solution, no point.

Without me being aware of it, Junillus had gone into the back kitchen, taking crockery to wash. In any caupona it was daily routine. He would be there for a while, starting preparations for the lunchtime rush. The vigilis must have gone out to use the lavatory, then being a man who could never stay quiet, he started talking to, or at least, at Junillus. He had been getting no joy out of me. I could hear him maundering on about the races or another tedious subject, with occasional grunts or short phrases from my cousin, among chopping and scooping sounds as he worked on food. I could not see them. I was alone. As a relative, I would be in charge of the bar if any customers came and I was accustomed to serving myself if I wanted anything, so Junillus would not bother to pop out to check. Junillus and the other man were out of sight and separated from me by several yards, when someone leaned over one of the counters from the street, a mere four feet from me.

It was Andronicus.