A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow - By Levkoff, Andrew Page 0,175

a matter to be heard at this time.” One look at Publius’ hard expression and dominus’ voice became unsure. “I will hear your evidence in my quarters.” A murmur of doubt swept the crowd.

“Eminence, for ten years the good people of Antioch have been waiting for the justice of Rome. They have been waiting for Crassus.” A cheer went up. “Let the governor show he is a just man. Let him prove to the people that he believes in the rule of law, that it applies in his own home, even as it applies in the streets of Antioch!” Publius’ tongue was as skillful as his lance. “Show all of Syria, here in this hall of justice, that Rome is just, that Gabinius is truly gone, and that under Crassus, a new regime has begun!”

When he could be heard again, Crassus held out his hand. “Show me the evidence.” Dominus looked down at me as if to ask what ridiculous insanity was afoot. I could not meet his eye.

Publius stepped across the dais and handed his father the letter that I had only hours before slipped into the correspondence box. Crassus took a moment to read it. He looked up and shrugged, shaking the humid air out of a fold in his toga before readjusting it. “A letter from my wife. I have never seen it before.”

“It is newly arrived,” Publius said.

Crassus asked, “Alexander, have you seen this?”

“Yes, dominus,” I answered, but the words withered at the back of my throat. I bit my tongue, swallowed and tried again. “Yes, dominus. I have seen it. I have read it. And it was I who wrote it.”

“You are mistaken,” Crassus chided, ignoring the muttering building all around him, especially from his commanders. “While the sentiments expressed are upsetting and contradictory to my purpose, there is nothing treasonous here. Its contents are private; a letter from my spouse, nothing more.”

Publius said, “With respect, proconsul, ask Lady Tertulla to confirm the authenticity of this document.”

“Legate, do you not think me capable of recognizing my own wife’s handwriting?”

“Sir, please.”

“Go on then, but I am warning you, commander, neither the good people of Antioch nor I will stand to have our time wasted much longer.”

Publius started across the dais and down the steps. I looked at my mistress, and saw anything but resolve. I could not let her lie for me. “Dominus, my lady …”

“Legionary,” Publius barked, “silence the prisoner.” One guard tightened his grip on me and the other brought his fist across my cheek and jaw. I did not completely lose consciousness, but I did require help standing for the next few moments. In addition to the startling amount of astonishing pain, it was a curious thing to see a bolt of lightning strike inside my head.

“…is my handwriting,” lady Tertulla was saying as I came to myself.

Publius was struck dumb, but not Curio. He leapt to his feet and shouted, “That’s not true!”

Crassus snapped, “If I hear another disrespectful word from you, your back shall pay the price for your tongue’s insolence.”

“Abject apologies, proconsul.”

“Now what part do you have to play in all of this?” Crassus asked with exasperation.

Curio looked to Publius. Dominus’ son said, “It was the freedman who brought this unfortunate deceit to my attention, proconsul. He discovered a draft of this letter,” he said, holding up the original, “crumpled on the floor of the accused.”

“That does not surprise me,” lady Tertulla announced, “since that is where I must have dropped it accidentally when I first arrived in Antioch. Thank you, Curio, for retrieving it for me.”

“Mother…,” Publius started, “lady Tertulla, do you mean for us to believe that you have been carrying a crumpled copy of a letter you wrote over six months ago, on your person with you all the way from Rome?”

“That is exactly what I mean to tell you.”

“One moment, please.” Octavius leaned over to Crassus and said in a voice I barely heard, “General, hadn’t we better clear the room? This is not state business.”

“No need,” Crassus replied. “Publius is right: a just man must act with consistency, whether at home or in public. Let them see I do not fear scrutiny. In any case, this will all be over shortly.” In a louder voice, he said, “Continue, legate.”

“Lady Tertulla, what would possess you to do such a thing?” There was clear disbelief in Publius’ voice. A sneer of contempt curled across Lucius Curio’s lips.

“The minute I let the original out of my hands,” lady