The Venus Throw

Chapter Twenty Six

Cicero's speech was followed by a recess, after which, the magistrate declared, the testimony of witnesses would commence. The common sentiment in the crowd was that the trial would probably carry over for at least another day, given the number of witnesses expected to testify. But when the court reassembled, the prosecutors were embarrassed to reveal that most, indeed virtually all, of their scheduled witnesses had declined to appear. The coterie of young men who had filled the benches around Clodia had vanished. So had Clodia herself.

The supporters of Caelius could hardly contain their triumph. Even Caelius's father, dressed in his ragged funeral garments, looked smug.

A handful of witnesses dared to appear-some of the outraged husbands whose wives had been insulted by Caelius, Senator Fufius, and even a couple of the "bathhouse skulkers." The prosecutors, who had clearly lost heart, perfunctorily interviewed them. Cicero cross-examined them with effortless panache, restraining his wit lest it appear wasted on such minor opponents. The spectators began to disperse. The drama had reached its climax with Cicero's oration, and only the most inveterate believers in surprise endings held out to see what the verdict would be.

The judges tallied their votes and announced their decision. Marcus Caelius was not guilty.

I felt relieved of a great burden. What if they had declared him guilty of all the charges against him, including Dio's murder? How could I have remained silent? But they had not declared him guilty; the crisis was averted. Still, what of the poison plot against Clodia? Cicero had argued that it was all a fiction concocted by Clodia herself, just another part of her scheme to take vengeance on Caelius, and the judges had agreed. But what if Caelius had tried to poison her? Had I no obligation to speak up?

The moment had passed, and there was no undoing it. I told myself that my sole intention from the outset was to discover the truth about Dio's death. As for Caelius and Clodia, whatever the truth of their intrigues against each other, surely I owed nothing to either of them.

After the verdict was announced, Caelius's supporters broke into cheering and gathered in a ring around him. The prosecutors and their assistants glumly dispersed. Some of the judges went to congratulate Caelius and pay compliments to Cicero and Crassus for their orations. Spectators headed off to see what activities connected with the Great Mother festival were still going on elsewhere in the city. Slaves gathered up folding chairs and carried them off.

"Where shall we go now?" said Eco.

"I think I want to be alone for a while," I said. "Take Belbo with you. I don't need a bodyguard anymore. The trial's over and I'm no danger to anybody."

"Still, Papa, it's a holiday. People get rowdy-"

"Please, Eco, take Belbo with you. Or better yet, send him home to Bethesda. I'll feel better knowing he's there while I'm not." "Where are you going?" "I'm not sure."

"Why don't you go home yourself?" I shook my head. "Not yet."

"Papa, what's going on?" He lowered his voice. "If Dio was poisoned in your house, who did it? And why? You know, don't you?" I shook my head. "We'll talk about it later." "But Papa-"

"I'll spend the night at your house, if that's all right. Have the slaves fix up a couch for me to sleep on."

"Of course, Papa. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? We could talk."

"Talk is not what I need. I need to think, and I can think more clearly if I'm by myself."

This last turned out to be untrue. I wandered the city in a daze, paying no attention to where I was going, my thoughts turning in sluggish circles.

Why had Bethesda deceived me? Had it been left to her, would she ever have told me the truth? Of course, I knew why she had remained silent. How does a woman tell her husband that she's poisoned his respected old mentor under his roof, right under his very nose? Still, she had reason. Did she think I wouldn't understand? Why had she never told me of her mother's death and about the terrible thing that had happened to her before I found her? Did she trust me so little, even after all our years together?

My own feelings confused me no less. Was I angry, or hurt? Did I want to punish Bethesda, or beg for her forgiveness? I felt as if I had done something wrong, but 1 couldn't say what it was. I knew I had been made a fool of; Bethesda had known the truth all along and yet had let me plod down the wrong path in darkness. Was she amused at my folly? Did she fear my reaction if I should discover the truth? Or did she simply think that she could get away with never telling me, and considered that easiest for everybody? She knew the truth was precious to me, and she had withheld it from me. I resented her for that. Under my roof, before my eyes, she had murdered a man she hated. I understood her reason, but still I was appalled and shaken by the enormity of it. Perhaps she was right not to trust me with the truth after all.

I passed revelers and vendors in the street, heard the roar of a large crowd from the Circus Maximus, went by a square where a stage was being put up for a performance the next day, heard tambourines and looked up to see a group of galli dancing on a rooftop. Now and again I heard snatches of conversation which must have been about the trial:

So the young man got off completely… clever Cicero… had no idea the woman was such a wanton. the Clodii will think twice before trying a stunt like that again… everybody laughed-you should have seen the bitch's face… who gives a damn about those Egyptians anyway?… they stone women like that in other countries… 'Did I say husband? I mean brother, of course-I'm always making that mistake!'… 'Not just a whore, but a particularly lewd and depraved old whore'… from what's said about her, someone probably should go ahead and poison the monster…

I kept walking. Hours passed. The sky grew dark. The streets became empty. Still I walked. I never knew where I was headed until I got there.

The phallic lamp above the entrance burned bright, promising warmth and light within. I rapped on the door of the Salacious Tavern and the doorman let me inside.

As a rule I drink no more than other men, and less than most. That night, I felt like getting drunk. The slave who brought wine was glad to help me in the pursuit.

The room was so noisy that I could hear only snatches of conversation, much of which was about the trial. Cicero's jokes were repeated and obscenely embellished. The story of the pyxis and its contents was told in numerous variations, and arguments broke out over which version was correct. Wine prompted crude bursts of insight: "Caelius may have screwed the bitch before, but it was Cicero who screwed her today!" The consensus seemed to be that Caelius had escaped by the skin of his teeth, and that Clodia had been ruined for good, and it was all for the best. I sat and drank, making no particular effort either to listen or not listen, letting the words of strangers enter my ears as they might. When my cup was empty, I called for the server to fill it again.

It was quite late in the evening when the door opened and a large party came stamping in. They were mostly young, too well groomed and poshly dressed for the place. They had obviously come from some other, more respectable venue. There were shouts of greeting and then a general cheer as the patrons recognized Marcus Caelius. He acknowledged the show of support with a smile and a wave, then made a tipsy bow that turned into a stumble. His friends Licinius and Asicius each grabbed an arm to pull him upright. I was surprised, but only a little, to see Catullus in the group, looking even drunker than Caelius.

Caelius and his friends took over a corner of the room. He ordered a round of the tavern's best wine for everyone, which earned him another cheer. The drowsy midnight mood of the place was dispelled and the room was suddenly loud and festive again. I stared glumly at the dregs in my cup and wondered if I dared to have it filled again. The glow of the wine had begun to pall and I was beginning to feel slightly queasy. When the server passed me I covered my cup with my hand and shook my head.

"What's wrong?" a voice shouted. "Gordianus won't drink the wine I offer? I'll wager it's better than whatever cheap slop you've been guzzling."

I turned and saw Caelius watching me from across the room, his lips pushed out in a mock pout.

"No insult intended," I muttered.

"What's that? Can't hear you!" Caelius cupped his ear and grinned. "You'll have to come closer." I shook my head.

Caelius snapped his fingers, and a moment later a couple of brawny bodyguards were on either side of me, lifting me up by my elbows and carrying me across the room. They sat me down on a bench across from Caelius, who laughed and clapped his hands like a child watching a magic trick.

"You're in an awfully good mood tonight," I said. "Why not? If things had gone badly today I'd be on a boat heading for Massilia right now." He made a face. "Instead, here I am surrounded by my friends, in the heart of the most wonderful city in the world." Licinius and Asicius sat on one side of him, Catullus on the other. The rest of his party had gathered around a nearby table to throw dice. "I'm free!"

"Free? I thought Cicero had you in his snare again. You owe him quite a favor now. Does he know you're out carousing tonight, making a liar of him?"

"Cicero?" Caelius made a rude noise with his lips. "Don't worry, I can handle him. I've been doing it for years." "The student controls the teacher?" "Something like that." "You're a spoiled brat, Marcus Caelius."

"And people love me for it! Except maybe you. Why won't you drink the wine I offer?"

"I've had enough tonight. You look like you've already had rather a lot yourself. You, too, Catullus."

Catullus looked back at me blearily and blinked a few times. He seemed to be at a level of inebriation that made him neither giddy nor maudlin, but simply numb.

"So you think we've had too much to drink?" said Caelius. "We've only started! Server! Bring out more of your best wine, for everyone!"

"Are you sure you can afford such extravagance?" I said.

Caelius smiled. "All my debts are paid off."

"I thought you had no debts."

"Didn't you pay attention to Cicero in court today? I don't even keep ledger books, Gordianus! All my finances are in Papa's name." "I see. Technically, you have no debts."

"That's how it works nowadays. But like I said, all the debts are paid off."

"Even the ones you owed to Pompey?"

He hesitated for only a moment.

"Even those."

"But not repaid with coin?"

"No. With services rendered."

Next to him, Licinius and Asicius stiffened. "Caelius!" said Asicius. Caelius laughed. "Don't worry, the trials are over. Your trial, Asicius, and my trial, and we are both as innocent as lambs."

"You should learn how to shut up, Caelius!" snapped Licinius. "Shut up about what?" I said.

"Oh, my friends think I talk too much. But where's the danger now? I'm free!"

"Then perhaps you could set my mind at rest about a few things," I said.

Licinius and Asicius fidgeted, but Caelius smiled blandly at me. "Why not?" Next to him Catullus stared obliviously into space and moved his lips, composing a poem in his head, perhaps.

"Do you remember when I last saw you, Caelius, here at the tavern? You swore to me by the shades of your ancestors that you didn't murder Dio."

"Yes, I remember. I told you the truth."

"And you swore that it wasn't Asicius, either."

"Also true."

"But when I asked where you were and what you were up to on the night Dio died, you refused to tell me."

"How could I tell you, with the trial still pending-" "Caelius, shut up!" snapped Asicius.

"I believe you," I said, "when you swear that you didn't kill Dio. It's my belief that he died of poison. And yet, someone broke into Coponius's house that night, and Dio was found with stab wounds in his chest. Can you explain that, Caelius?"

"Now you bring up a very interesting point,"

Caelius said, raising one eyebrow, "and as a matter of fact-"

"Caelius, you fool, shut up!"

"Relax, Asicius. The trial is over, and Gordianus can be trusted with the truth. Can't you, Gordianus? Swear to me by the shade of your father that you'll keep secret what I'm about to tell you."

I hesitated only a moment. "I swear."

"Caelius, you're an idiot!" Asicius stamped his foot and angrily left the room. Licinius stayed behind, looking around warily for eavesdroppers. Catullus stared blankly into his cup.

"Asicius! What an ass. He always was death to a good conversation." Caelius smiled. "Where were we?"

"The night Dio died-"

"Ah, yes. Well, it was the oddest thing. You see, I was supposed to kill Dio. It's exactly as you had it figured, I'm sure. King Ptolemy wanted to get rid of Dio, and so did Pompey. I owed Pompey a pile of gold which I couldn't possibly repay. So it was up to me to do old Dio in."

"Just as you arranged the attack on the Alexandrian envoys when they arrived in Neapolis."

Caelius nodded. "And kept up the attacks in Puteoli and on the way up to Rome. The Egyptians were almost too easy to frighten. They're about as courageous as pigeons. But pigeons scatter when they're attacked, and there were so damned many of them!"

"And the last one left was Dio."

"Exactly. And that pigeon made a nasty mess."

Licinius rolled his eyes. "Caelius, you're crazy to be telling him

this."

"Shut up, Licinius. Has my judgment ever steered me wrong? Gor-dianus is like a dog with a bone. He'll never let go of this thing until he's got the truth. Now that it can't hurt us, better to simply tell him so that he can go find another bone to chew. He's sworn himself to secrecy! Now where was I?"

"All the Egyptians gone but Dio."

"Ah, yes. Well, I tried to get the kitchen slaves to poison him at Lucius Lucceius's house, of course. Having met that idiot Lucceius once at a party, I figured I could get away with just about anything under his roof. But the slaves bungled it and killed Dio's taster instead, and off Dio went to Coponius's house. A good thing Lucceius is the type to see no evil, or he could have forced his slaves to testify against me and ruined everything.

"So it was on to Titus Coponius's house. Titus is no fool, and his slaves are as loyal as slaves come. Added to that, Dio was more wary than ever, and Pompey was really beginning to press me. Well, there was nothing to do but sharpen the daggers and go on a midnight raid. I needed help for that, so I called on Asicius. He's the one who actually staged the raids on the envoys down south for me. He's been one of King Ptolemy's agents for years. Knows a lot more about daggers and blood and that sort of thing than I do."

"Thank the gods he's not here to hear you!" groaned Licinius, covering his face. Catullus was busy poking at something in the bottom of his wine cup.

I nodded. "Then you and Asicius-"

"Oh yes, we went out that night with every intention of killing old Dio. Sorry. I know he was your old teacher and all that. But Egyptian politics is a nasty business."

"You had no confederates inside Coponius's house?"

"Not a single one. Too dangerous. His slaves are too loyal, as I

said."

"But you knew the room where Dio was staying."

Caelius shrugged. "Not too hard to figure out. I'd stayed in the house as a guest myself."

"So the two of you climbed over the wall, broke in the window, burst into Dio's room-"

"And found him lying on his couch as dead as King Numa. I'll never forget the sight of him-mouth gaping open, eyes staring. Oh yes, most definitely dead."

"Then what?"

"What else could we do? Pompey had sent us to kill Dio, and he knew we intended to use daggers. I didn't want Pompey to think that Dio had died of natural causes, or that someone else had murdered him. I wanted my debt discharged! So we went ahead and stabbed him, enough times to kill him if he'd still been living-"

"More than enough, from what I heard."

Caelius shrugged. "Then we made a bit of a mess in the room, as if there might have been a struggle, and then we got out of there as quickly as we could. The next day everyone was saying that Dio had been stabbed to death in his bed. Pompey was satisfied, my debts were discharged, and I figured that was the end of it. But Asicius was never secretive about his links to King Ptolemy. His enemies decided to put him on trial for murdering Dio. Ptolemy hired Cicero to handle the defense, and Cicero got Asicius off. The prosecution never really had enough evidence against him."

"Nor against you, it seems."

"Especially not with Cicero on my side." Caelius grinned.

"Yes, that explains it," I said. "Stabbed after he was already dead. No one in Coponius's house noticed the discrepancies-hardly enough blood spattered about for so many wounds, and the wounds all neatly close together, not spread around. No struggle. And the slave girl, too afraid to tell what she knew… "

"What's that?" said Caelius. "You're muttering to yourself, Gordianus."

"Was I? A bad habit. Yes, you've put my mind to rest about Dio. The old dog can stop gnawing that bone. But I have another bone with some marrow still left in it."

"Do you? Server, more wine!"

"The violence against Dio and the Alexandrian envoys weren't the only charges against you."

"No-and a good thing, too!" "What do you mean?"

"Why, Clodia adding that poisoning charge at the last minute. Crassus said we should disallow it. He said it was technically too late for the prosecutors to include it and that we didn't have time to prepare a defense. Cicero told him he was mad, that it was a gift from the gods. 'Don't you see? They've given us exactly what we need! Now we have every reason to drag Clodia into the case, and that will be the end of the prosecution.' And he was right, of course. If Clodia had kept out of sight, I'd have been in much worse trouble. But with Clodia right there, showing her face, bringing her own accusation against me, Cicero was able to turn the trial on its head. Not 'Did Caelius murder the Egyptians?' but 'Why is that wicked woman trumping up charges against the poor boy?' And it worked, brilliantly! The prosecution was totally discredited. Accusing me of trying to poison Clodia actually weakened all the other charges."

"Yes, Caelius," I said quietly, "but what about the accusation itself?"

Catullus suddenly looked up from his wine cup and showed signs of life. Caelius gave me a supercilious grin. "Gordianus, a Roman court has declared me to be an innocent man, wrongfully accused. What more do you need to know?"

"The truth," I said. I reached for his arm. The force I used caught him by surprise.

He dropped his cup. Wine splashed on the floor. Caelius's body-guards lurched forward. He kept them back with a shake of his head and spoke to me through gritted teeth.

"Gordianus, you're hurting my wrist. Let go, or I shall tell them to cut your hand off."

"The truth, Caelius. It goes no further than me. I swear by the shade of my father."

"The truth? Licinius here very nearly got caught with a pyxis full of poison at the Senian baths. He managed to empty the stuff into one of the tubs on his way out-a waste of good poison! But I put the pyxis to good use later."

"Caelius, shut up!" Licinius clenched his fists.

"And the second attempt?" I said. Catullus stared at Caelius.

"The truth?"

"Tell me!"

He jerked his arm free and rubbed his wrist. "The second attempt almost succeeded. I'm glad now that it didn't. Cicero was right. Dead, Clodia would have been truly dangerous to me, an object of sympathy. Alive, she was an object of scorn, an asset to me in spite of herself. So it worked out for the best. Clodia got off with a bit of indigestion, and I got the sympathy of the judges."

"The poison you used for the second attempt-"

"Different from the first time. I'd wanted to use something very quick to act; I didn't want her to suffer. But Licinius threw that batch away, so I ended up trying something called-what is it called, Licinius?"

"Gorgon's hair."

"Yes, that's it. It would have taken a bit longer, I'm told, but been just as effective. I am sorry that Chrysis got caught, poor thing. She's so delicate, and now Clodia will take it all out on her."

Catullus spoke in a slurred voice. "Caelius, you told me-" "What you wanted to hear, Catullus, and you never want to hear the truth, do you? So what if I tried to poison her? What do you care? She despises you even more than she does me."

"Caelius, you lying bastard!" Catullus lurched toward him.

Caelius drew back and lifted his hands, a signal for his bodyguards to rescue him. It happened so quickly that I experienced the journey from the bench to the street outside as a blurred moment of levitation, followed by a hard landing on my posterior. When my head stopped spinning I saw that Catullus was sitting on the paving stones beside me. After a moment, he rolled forward onto his hands and knees, crawled to the gutter and was violently ill.

A little later he crawled back to me. "You should try that," he said, wiping his chin. "You'd feel better."

"I don't want to feel better."

"Self-pitying bastard. You sound like me. What have you got to be sad about?"

"Woman trouble." "At your age?"

"Live long enough, whelp, and you'll see. It never ends." "Then how do men stand it?" The brief relief of vomiting gave way to his usual misery.

"So Caelius really did try to poison her?" "Not once, but twice. He told you otherwise?" "He lied to my face."

"Imagine that! What were you doing in his company tonight, anyway?"

Catullus looked even more miserable.

"Don't tell me," I said. "Let me guess. You were sharing in the celebration, since you helped him write his speech. You helped Cicero write his speech as well."

"How did you know?"

"The look on your face at the trial today. You couldn't help but en-joy hearing your phrases spoken aloud. That business about 'Clytemnestra-for-a-quadrans' and 'Medea of the Palatine'-it had to come from you. Likewise the reference to those lovers' trophies Clodia keeps in her secret treasure box under her statue of Venus. You told me no one knew about that but you, and you only found out by accident. I saw her face when Cicero mentioned it. So did you. That was the last straw for her, the moment she broke. He stripped her naked, and you helped. You knew the jokes that would hurt her the most. The crudest puns, the nastiest metaphors. Are you the poet of love, Catullus, or the poet of hate?"

" 'I hate and I love. If you ask me how, I do not know-' "

"Stop quoting yourself! Why did you do it?"

"Don't you know?"

"I thought you loved Clodia. I thought you hated Caelius." "Which is precisely why I had to help him destroy her." "You baffle me, Catullus!"

"She had to be destroyed. It was the only way. Now I can reclaim

her."

"What are you talking about, Catullus?"

He clutched my arm. "Don't you see? As long as she had this burning passion for Caelius, I could never get her back. She'd put up with anything from him, any abuse. But now he's gone too far. Now she can't possibly love him anymore, not after what they did to her at the trial today. Caelius and his advocates have made her the laughingstock of Rome! Yes, I helped. I went to Caelius the morning after we ran into him here at the tavern. I told him I had some ideas for his speech. Cicero was quite excited to have me along. The three of us had quite a time, going through the orations, adding jokes, wondering just how far we should go. That pun about the pyxis-"

"Don't make me hear it all again!"

"It's not that I'm proud. But it had to be done. She had to be brought down. She'd become too full of herself, too proud, too arrogant, ever since Celer died and she started running her own household. Now she's been broken, in the only way it could be done. We took everything that made her strong-her beauty, her pride, her love of pleasure-and turned it against her. Her own ancestors were turned against her, the ones she's always gloating about! She'll never be able to brag about the family monuments again without everyone snickering behind her back. She can't even turn to Clodius, not in public. It's me she'll turn to."

I shook my head. "Catullus, you are surely the most deluded man I ever met."

"You think so? Come with me right now, to her house. You'll see."

"No, thank you. Clodia's house is the last place on earth I'd care to be at this moment. No, that's not quite true. The last place I'd want to be is in my own house. But then, it's also the only place I want to be."

"Now who's not making sense?" Catullus staggered to his feet. "Are you coming with me or not?"

I shook my head, which seemed to go on spinning after I stood up. "Farewell then, Gordianus."

"Farewell, Catullus. And-" He turned and looked back at me blearily. "-good luck."

He nodded and stumbled off into the darkness. I waited for my head to stop spinning and tried to figure out the direction to Eco's house. The Subura seemed a long way off.