the mastery of our language? I hope Timotheus has proved a satisfactory tutor?”
“What? Oh, yes, quite. I think she told me they’ve just started book two of the Odyssey.” He had no idea where she was in the poem or if she was reading it at all. He must remember to ask her.
“Ah, Homer, the fountainhead of our civilization. Emos d’erigeneia phane rhododaktylos Eos, orunt’ ar’ ex eunephin Odysseos philos uios heimata essamenos…”
Pliny held up his hands. He was sure that Diocles was capable of reciting the entire book from memory given half a chance. Homer was always in the man’s mouth.
***
Once Diocles and his band had departed the hours passed slowly. Pliny paced and fretted. Arranged and rearranged the objects on his desk. Bathed. Took his midday meal with Calpurnia, who looked pinched and pale and barely touched her food, although she laughed when he questioned her and said it was nothing. After lunch, he called yet another meeting of his staff.
“Or maybe they’re in it together,” Nymphidius offered, “Balbus slipping away first, Silvanus afterwards, and all the rest of it just play-acting.”
“Either way I simply can’t imagine how it was done” said Pliny. “Two men vanished without a trace.”
They looked at each other in glum silence and he was about to send them all away when they heard voices raised in the corridor outside his office. He went out to investigate.
The doorkeepers—who considered it a part of their job to prevent him from ever talking to anyone who did not have an appointment—were struggling with a man, red in the face and clearly angry, who was demanding to see the governor. Another crank probably, but the man’s clothes were expensive and his accent not the worst. Pliny had nothing but time on his hands, he could spare this fellow a little of it. He ushered him into the office.
The man straightened his clothes, took a breath to calm himself, and introduced himself as Isidorus, a dealer in fine silks and brocades. He had gone yesterday to the Street of the Leather Workers, he explained, to shop for a saddle and bridle, not your ordinary stuff but something expensive, a birthday present for his son-in-law, who was quite a gentleman and owned a horse. And he was in one shop, examining what was on offer, and quite a respectable place, the owner was known to him and not a dealer in stolen goods either, no certainly not. But there was a very handsome saddle for sale with matching bridle, all ornamented with turquoises and onyxes, and an embroidered saddle cloth with it, top quality, make no mistake, he knew quality when he saw it, and the thing of it was, you see, that it looked familiar, he knew he had seen that saddle somewhere before, and then it came to him—just like that!—perhaps some god whispered it in his ear, who could say? But he was dead certain that it was the procurator’s saddle, no question about it, that gentleman rode down his street every day on his way to the treasury, which is just past the Street of the Cloth Merchants, don’t you see?
Isidorus stopped and looked around him in alarm. They were all on their feet, Nymphidius’ fingers dug into his shoulder.
“Here now,” he squeaked, “no call for that!”
“Where,” Pliny brought his face close and spoke softly, “did this merchant get the saddle?”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell your honors. A couple of peasants sold him the stuff. His wife is from their village, don’t you see, so they thought he’d give ’em a good price.”
“And where is this village?”
“He can tell you. He’s just outside. He doesn’t want any trouble.”
Chapter Twelve
The mounted column, with Pliny at its head, left the city at the ninth hour of the day, taking the road, at a walking pace, north-east up into the foothills. According to the leather merchant, who now guided them, the village lay about eighty stades—ten Roman miles—away. With luck they should reach it by nightfall. Suetonius and Zosimus had urged him to wait until tomorrow before setting out, but Pliny would not be delayed any longer than it took to gather supplies for an overnight journey and bid a hasty farewell to Calpurnia. A dozen cavalry troopers, commanded by Aquila, and a lumbering wagon for their tents went with them.
The sky had been overcast all day and now the wind rose, thunder rumbled in the mountains, and a slanting