a riding accident, you understand. There must be no word of murder. Aquila, I want no loose talk from the men about what they’ve seen. I hold you responsible.”
***
Pancrates bent his hawk-faced head over Calpurnia’s hand and brushed it with his lips. His dark ringlets spilled over his shoulders. “Your maid brought me your message this morning, matrona. It’s been too long since we spoke. How can I help you? You do not look well. Have you been sick?”
She pulled him down on the couch beside her. “Sick? Yes, I am sick. Here.” She touched her hand to her breast. Her voice sounded to her own ears faint and far away.
“Ah. The heart. That is the cruelest sickness of all. Tell me.” He took her hand in both of his and squeezed it.
“You told me I would meet someone new. I didn’t believe you, but I have. A man. And I love him.” Her chin trembled. “I fight against it but I’m too weak. Ione only encourages me. I have no one else to turn to. And then last night…”
“Last night you took a step that you cannot take back. I see it in your eyes.”
“And it felt—I can’t tell you. But now…”
“You’ve never done something like this before?”
She shook her head.
“You’re a woman of rare virtue.”
“I thought I was. I always imagined that one day they would inscribe univira on my tombstone as they did my mother’s. But no more.”
“And now what? Do you imagine a future with this man?”
“That is madness.”
“But love is a kind of madness, as the poets tell us. I see a handsome man. Older perhaps…?”
“No, young. So very young.”
“Just as I thought.”
“And he looks like a young god, and he’s an artist and sweet-natured and he makes me laugh and…” She looked away.
“But what could be more natural? A beautiful woman like yourself deserves to be loved passionately. You have no reason to reproach yourself. Of course, you honor your husband, but he’s preoccupied with high affairs of state, is he not? Look how he has dragged you from your home, your friends, and family to this alien place and then he neglects you. You have a right to feel as you do. We are all creatures of temptation. And your husband suspects nothing?”
“He sees only what he wants to see. He’s so clever in some ways and so innocent in others. Sometimes I’m furious at him for being so blind.” She began to cry. “What am I to do? It can’t live like this. You are a seer—what do you see?”
“Spit in your hand.”
“What?”
“Do as I say.”
She spat and Pancrates touched her palm with his finger and put it on his tongue. He frowned. “I see what has been done to you. You are the victim of magic, lady.”
“What, you mean a love potion? No, he would never—”
“The signs are unmistakable. Do you doubt such things exist?”
“No, but—”
“And do you want to be restored to your senses, to the love of your husband, that good man?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Louder. You must mean it.”
“Yes!”
“I can devise a spell against it. But I must know your lover’s name.”
“His name? No, I couldn’t…” She snatched her hand away from his.
“If you’re going to keep secrets from me, lady…” He made to stand up.
“No, don’t, please. Don’t go. His name is Agathon.”
“There are many with that name.”
“Son of Protarchus, grandson of Neocles.”
“Well, well. I don’t know the young man but I know the family. Very prominent, very rich.” He reached for her hand again. “Now calm yourself, Calpurnia. I tell you again, you’ve done nothing wrong. I can cure you, and your husband need never know a thing. I gather he is away at the moment?”
She nodded. “First it was the assizes and now this business with the procurator. They’re out in the countryside now looking for him.”
Pancrates black eyebrows shot up. “Are they indeed? And does your husband confide in you about his business when you’re together?”
“He always has.”
“And quite right too. You’re a woman of good sense.” He leaned closer, his deep-sunk eyes seemed to bore into her. “If he tells you about this missing procurator I want you to tell me, you understand? We must have no secrets if I am to help you. You have already trusted me with your lover’s name. I wonder how the father would react to knowing of his son’s adventures.”
She recoiled from him. “What do you mean? You wouldn’t…”