Strokes were something I knew. My Great-uncle Scaro, an eccentric old rascal, not least for being fond of me, had several (though in fact my amiable uncle died from choking on home-made false teeth). I went in to inspect Marcellus for myself.
The diagnosis was correct. It's grim to see an intelligent man so drastically struck down. The worst aspect was that his slaves were terrified. So he was not only paralysed and robbed of proper speech; he had the added indignities of being treated like an idiot and seeing his servants afraid to deal with him.
I had nothing else to do, so I set about interpreting. At least when he wanted a drink or his pillows raised he could be made comfortable more quickly. I sat with him; read to him; even-since I was handy and it saved fuss-helped the poor old devil to his sickbed commode. The range of my work never failed to amaze me. Here I was: a trireme smash yesterday; a dogfight today; now a consul's nurse.
'You're doing well!' Gordianus commented, looking in.
'I feel like his wife. Next thing, I'll be complaining about my dress allowance and the Consul here will call my mother an interfering witch.'
'What's he saying now?'
'Ah… he wants to change his will.'
The Consul dribbled agitatedly. 'Helena… Gnaeus!'
I asked, 'You want to leave your estates to Helena, so she can hand them on to Gnaeus?' He lay back, satisfied. I folded my arms, letting him see I was unimpressed. 'Lucky you trust the lady! Most of them would snatch your money, then run off with the nearest low-rank muscleman who has a hint of disreputable promise in his smile-'
He started mouthing anxiously again. I let Gordianus calm him. Anyone who tried to use Helena to help Pertinax lost my sympathy.
After Gordianus left us I sat looking fiercely at Marcellus, while he glared indignantly at me. I said conversationally, 'Helena Justina will never remarry your son!'
Caprenius Marcellus continued his bleak, accusing stare. I could see he knew now just what I was telling him.
The ex-Consul had finally realized which sturdy member of the gutter-clogging classes had managed to subvert his daughter-in-law.