“I’m asking you!” Pliny was on his feet, leaning over her and staring hard. Despite herself, she shrank back. She looked to Suetonius for help. He studied his wine glass.
“All right.” She drew a deep breath. “Some of it was his.”
“How much?”
“I don’t remember.”
“How much!”
“Half maybe.”
“Half ! A full talent. Where did he get so much?”
“He wasn’t a poor man.”
“Why didn’t he invest it in his own name?”
“I don’t know. It was a personal loan to me. What difference does it make?”
“There are half a dozen bankers in town. Why did he suggest Didymus?”
“I’ve no idea. He said he was a friend.”
“And that was good enough for you? You have a reputation as a shrewd businesswoman. Balbus tells you to invest a small fortune with a banker you’ve never done business with before and you do it.”
“I loved him.” She was angry now.
“Love,” Pliny sniffed. “Indeed it makes us do strange things.”
“Is there anything else you want to know about my personal life, Governor?”
He looked at her sourly. “Not at the moment.”
“Well,” Suetonius sighed as they mounted their litters, “there’s an end to a beautiful friendship.”
“Consider yourself lucky.”
***
Galeo returned to the tavern. His red lictor’s tunic was soaked through, his hair was plastered against his head. He had lost the man in the dark—fortunately, perhaps; he wouldn’t like to tangle with that brute. He sat himself down at a table, motioned to the tavern keeper to join him, and carefully placed a silver drachma on the scarred table top between them. The man couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Who is that fellow who ran out? How long has he been in the village?
“Calls ’imself Lurco, sir. Been ’ere five, six days, I reckon.”
“Did he arrive alone or with a woman and a boy?”
“You know that, do you?”
“Where are they now?”
“Well, sir, I really couldn’t say as to that.”
Galeo placed another drachma on the table.
“Ah. Well it might be they hired a boat, take ’em to sea, in spite of it bein’ filthy weather. You’d best talk to ’er captain.”
“Send someone to fetch him. I’m not going out in this again.”
“Happens that’s ’im over there.” He glanced at one of the men at the bar. “Cleitus!”
“No one says you have.” Galeo placed another drachma on the table. Cleitus’ eye—he had only one—narrowed. “Tell me about the woman and boy.”
“They paid me ’andsomely to sail across Propontis to the Thracian side. Me and the lads agreed though we didn’t like the weather. Well, we wasn’t far out when the wind picks up and the boy comes all over queer, like maybe he has a demon in him. That’s what we thought anyway. I was for pitching ’im over the side but the woman begs me to leave ’em on an island that’s out there—just a little speck of rock really, nothin’ on it but a few goats. Well, we went in as close as we dared on the leeward side and made ’em jump.”
“And?”
“And that’s all I know. We sailed back with the big fella, Lurco. He didn’t want to jump and we couldn’t make ’im.” Cleitus’ hand shot out and plucked one of the coins off the table. He touched two fingers to his forehead and moved off.
At first light, Galeo was on his horse galloping back to Nicomedia.
Chapter Thirty-five
The 9th day before the Kalends of December
To Aulus the passage of time was formless and endless. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes spasms shook him, and afterwards he would sleep for hours: sleep filled with dreams of thrashing in icy sea water, of struggling for breath, of his mother’s powerful arms around him. And even in sleep the ache of hunger and the ache of cold never abated. In his lucid moments he knew that they drank rain water from a hollowed rock, ate berries that gave him a stomach ache, tried to catch and kill a goat until they sank down exhausted. How long had they been here? How much longer could they survive? Mother! She lay beside him on the stony ground, her hair a wet tangle spread out around her, her dress sodden and filthy. Her eyes shut. Was she breathing? Mother, don’t die, don’t leave me! He crawled to her and laid his head on her breast. It’s all right, she’s breathing. He sank again into oblivion.
And then, in his dream, he was being shaken. Hands gripped his shoulders. His eyelids fluttered open and gradually a face