Saturnalia

XLIV

Positions were reversed. For once I was the one waiting among the oil-lamp shadows, when Helena crawled in at last, barely able to move from exhaustion. It was a shock to see her still in the strange brown gown she wore to the Temple of Saturn, though at some point since she disappeared in Anacrites' litter, she had plaited her loose hair into an old-fashioned bun like some severe matriarch from the Republic.

I had been sitting on a chest in a daze until I heard the litter-bearers calling good-night to her. I felt stiff myself, but managed to get to the door to open it for Helena like a uniquely efficient hall porter. 'Dirty stop-out. What time do you call this?' I took her in my arms, very gently. 'Should I check you over for bruises? Or just check how drunk you are?'

She shook her head in reassurance, as she collapsed against me. 'All we were offered was a small tray of three-day-old date fancies and some foul grape juice. Hospitality from the Chief Spy is not based on the Good Steward's Household Manual… I hope you picked up those cloaks, Marcus.'

So she was all right. I helped her upstairs, where we fell into bed wearing most of our clothes. I squirmed out of my outer tunic, hoping she had not seen the bloodstains I had acquired from Lentullus. Helena fell asleep after me, I think, but she was up first. By the time I sauntered trom our room, she had been to the baths, dressed like herself in a smart red dress and pendant garnet ear-rings, and had begun calming our household – scared slaves; disconcerted soldiers; subdued children; Nux slinking along skirting boards as if she was in trouble; Albia, equally dog-like, defiantly letting us know she was furious at us for staying out all night.

I had washed my face and put on slippers. I had decided not to shave or change my undertunic. I was master of my house. I had my own style. I wasn't a jumped-up, hidebound, establishment lackey who couldn't yawn if it was a black day on the calendar. People knew what to expect from me. I refused to create anxiety by looking too formal.

Once everyone had settled down, Helena and I were free to take a late breakfast by ourselves. After we ate, we carried warm honey drinks right up on to our roof terrace, where there was a chance we could remain undisturbed. I checked the supports on the wind-blown climbing roses while I reported on Lentullus andJustinus. 'I told your brother to remain with the vigiles. I hope he does. But I haven't the resources – or the will any longer – to hold him to it.' 'Can I go and see him?' 'I can't stop you.' 'Marcus!' 'Oh I just don't want you seeing the mess the Guards have made of Lentullus.' As Helena stared, I admitted, 'Yes, the lad could die. He may be dead by now.'

Helena slowly sipped at her beaker. 'Is Scythax a good doctor? Should we find a better man?'

'Maybe I'll ask around, see if there is a specialist for sword wounds – some old army surgeon, maybe. I don't want to appear ungrateful to the vigiles. Lentullus would have gone under last night, if I hadn't thought of Scythax.'

I told her about the incident with the dead vagrant. Helena pursed her lips. I could see her filing it away in her library of curiosities. At some point, if a link occurred, she would pull down a mental scroll case and bring out this story, making new sense of it. Meanwhile we were silent, absorbing the oddities. 'So tell me what happened, sweetheart; how did you get on with Anacrites?' I watched Helena sorting her thoughts quietly. 'Well, to begin at the end, Ganna has been placed in the House of the Vestals.' 'Whose idea?'

Helena smiled. 'It is secure, and the Virgins will look after her. Ganna understands that nothing can be decided about her own fate until Veleda has been found.'

'And how painful was it, reaching this resolution?'

Helena said briefly, 'The man is a pig.' Seeing my look of horror, she took my hand quickly. 'Oh Anacrites didn't assault us. Nothing so direct. He deals in mental indignities. I dare say he would have tried physical mistreatment of the girl, had I not been there – '

'It's standard,' I confirmed. Without allowing the Spy any credit, I too would have done the same, faced with a tricky enemy and driven by urgency: 'In tough interrogations, even before you start beating them up, you deprive your subject of food, drink, hygiene facilities, warmth, consolation – hope.' 'Well, Anacrites certainly deprived Ganna of hope.' 'That's not fatal. Nor does it have to be permanent.' 'Are you as hard as him? No, Marcus. You have better tactics. More practical. First, you would point out the risks of her situation and the possibilities for retrieving something if she co-operates…' Helena was looking morose. 'I did try to persuade Anacrites that he should adopt your methods. I played on the fact that you and he are both working on this problem – working together -' I made vomiting noises. She ignored it. 'Working together now, just as you had done so successfully during the Great Census. I said, you both owe your current prosperity and your high social profile to that experience. Neither of you should forget it.' I took the sophisticated route this time; I merely banged down my beaker hard on a garden table. 'So?' I asked coldly. Helena chuckled. 'Oh, it worked, Marcus. Anacrites did exacdy what you would do.' 'Which is?' 'He snapped, well maybe I would like to ask the questions then.' We both had a chortle, then Helena admitted, 'Of course he was being sarcastic, but I jumped in and thanked him, and took him at his word.'

I allowed myself to guffaw. I was enjoying the story now. I wished I could have been a gecko yesterday in a corner of the interrogation room.

'First I suggested that I should like to get comfortable; I asked to use the facilities. Ganna had the sense to come too. A slave was supervising us, but we managed to have a few words together and I impressed on her that the more she said, the better it would look, so the easier things would go for her. And…' Helena paused, reconsidering. 'That "and" sounds significant.' 'No, it's nothing. So when we went back, I asked the questions and Ganna confessed pretty well everything.' I noted Helena's 'pretty well', but let her carry on with her version.

Some we already knew: how at the Quadrumatus house the two women had plotted to escape in the laundry cart, then how Veleda managed it, but went alone. How Veleda sought out Zosime, then afterwards made her way to the Temple of Diana, where a priestess gave her shelter out of sisterly fellow-feeling, while Ganna – by then staying at my mother's apartment – was able to visit the temple and leave messages of support. She was never allowed to see Veleda face to face. But temple attendants always reassured her – until yesterday, when Ganna ran there after my sisters had scared her, and they claimed Veleda was no longer with them. 'Ganna ran away because she found your sisters very frightening!' I found them frightening myself 'So where is Veleda now?' I asked, giving Helena a narrow look. Helena accepted my scrutiny in her serene way. 'Ganna insists that she does not know. Anacrites is all set to make pompous demands of the chief priest. A bad mistake.' 'Does he not have jurisdiction over temples?' I wondered. 'Tell that to the temples' priests! It does not do to underestimate the power of such institutions. Even the Emperor would approach cautiously. I think Anacrites will be roundly rebuffed – if only because of the outrages committed last night by the Praetorians in his name.'

'That was stupid.' He should have cleared the operation with the temple first.

Helena nodded. 'He has no diplomacy. But anyway, it may be that the priests really cannot help with Veleda's current whereabouts. If she sensed that pursuit was closing in on her, she may have left in a hurry and without revealing her plans.'

I was not convinced. She was sick, foreign, and probably short of funds. The Temple of Diana Aventinensis may not have liked being stuck with a fleeing barbarian, but once they took her in, they would see it through. 'So where could she go, my darling? She must be running out of options now. Where next?' Helena Justina gave me a straight look. 'It seems nobody knows.' I bet! I knew Helena, so I was convinced Ganna told her something in confidence when they tried the 'two shy girls have to go to the lavatory together' trick. You could tell Anacrites had no real knowledge of women, or he would never have fallen for that one.

I gave Helena a glance that told her I believed that she was holding back – and in return she gave me a smile that said she saw what I thought, and wouldn't give… Fine. 'So was Anacrites impressed by your help, my darling?' Helena Justina let out an uncharacteristic snort. 'He thinks he's very clever – but the man is a fool!'

Excellent. Anacrites had failed to notice that my wife secretly possessed a clue. Helena mentioned that she was going over to the Capena Gate later, to tell her parents and Claudia that Justinus was now free and well. She spoke idly, like any efficient wicked woman. Either she had taken a lover – which I always feared was possible – or she was up to something she thought she could bring off better than me. She might be right, but if she went out on the loose, I was a heavy-handed Roman husband: I intended to play the chaperon. During the day, I watched for indications. She spent a lot of time giving instructions about Julia and Favonia; normally she would have taken them with her to see their doting grandparents. She collected a few things, as if she might be travelling.

I gave her a couple of hours' start, using the time to shave and to pack necessities myself I put Clemens in charge of everything at home, and I asked for a volunteer who could ride. The legionaries were still too upset by what had happened to Lentullus. Only Jacinthus whispered please could he come? Typical. I was better off when I worked alone. Still, he was a dead loss in the kitchen, he took no interest at all in cutlets or calamari, and I might well need a companion. So gritting my teeth at my usual filthy handout from fortune, I set off accompanied by my cook. Jacinthus seemed thrilled to be taken on an unknown mission. He could have been a soldier; all he wanted was to be on the move, never mind why or where.

We tailed Helena from the senator's house to the stables where I knew her father kept his carriage. Two female companions were with her, closely cloaked and followed by a slave carrying small hand luggage. They left the slave behind when they departed in the carriage like the three Graces taking their dancing sandals to a summer picnic. It was a slow vehicle, giving me time to acquire horses for Jacinthus and me.

Whether Ganna had whispered it to her, or whether Helena simply worked it out for herself, as soon as I saw that she was taking a route along the Via Appia and out towards the Alban Hills, it struck me where we were probably going. In winter it would be a long haul: we were heading for another shrine of Diana. We were going to Lake Nemi.