But things were to get worse.
Two days later, Fabiola entered her room at dawn, tired from a busy night's work. There had been more customers than she usually had to entertain, but it had been worth the effort. She had three gold aurei to add to her savings and the last client had turned out to be a newly elected quaestor. Someone who might prove to be useful in the future. Ambitious politicians were always a good catch and Fabiola had driven the man completely crazy before allowing him to climax.
He would be back. Soon.
She smiled. Most men were so easy to manipulate.
After a good wash, Fabiola normally just stripped naked and fell on to her bed to catch a few hours of well-deserved sleep. For reasons that she could never explain afterwards, something made the black-haired girl study the plain woollen bedspread as she prepared to throw it back.
It looked strange. Lumpy.
Fabiola's pulse quickened and she froze on the spot, her eyes taking in the thick, coiled shape under the covers. Then it moved slightly and she had to stifle a scream.
Pompeia was not to be put off.
Tiptoeing into the corridor, Fabiola shut the door quietly and went in search of the doormen. They would know what to do.
When the pair heard, their reaction was so violent that Fabiola had to tell one of them to stay by the front door. It was just before dawn and, with all the customers gone, everyone had finally gone to bed. Both men pounding through the house would have drawn too much attention. Ordering Vettius to follow her quietly, Fabiola walked back to her room. She took deep breaths, releasing the terror that had filled her at the first sight of the shape on her cot. All would be well.
Outside the door, the shaven-headed hulk gently pushed her aside. 'Leave this to me,' he said, gripping his metal-studded club. 'There were plenty of snakes where I grew up.'
Fabiola did not argue. She watched as Vettius peered inside, checking first that there was nothing on the floor.
'It hasn't moved,' he said without turning his head. 'Stay here until I tell you it's safe.'
Fabiola squeezed his huge hand, suddenly worried that she was endangering a man she regarded as a real friend. 'Be careful.'
He looked back and winked at her. 'Jupiter will protect me.'
There was silence as Vettius entered the small chamber, his weapon poised in his right hand. Creeping to the bed, he quickly lifted the edge of the straw mattress nearest the wall and tipped the whole thing on to the stone floor. Vettius smashed down on the pile of sheets and blankets with repeated blows of his club, keeping his feet well clear in case the snake escaped. Fabiola was relieved that the noise he made was muffled somewhat by her bedding. It was important to minimise the number of people who knew what was going on.
After a few moments, he grunted with satisfaction, nudging at a red stain that was appearing through the wool of Fabiola's blanket.
'Come in.'
Glancing to left and right, Fabiola shot in and closed the door. 'Is it dead?' she asked nervously.
Vettius flipped over the bedspread, revealing a thick brown shape as long as a man's arm. Twitches still spasmed through the snake, but its head was a bloody mess.
Fabiola shuddered at what would have happened if she had climbed into bed as usual. Jupiter be thanked, she thought to herself.
The doorman studied the chequered pattern on the serpent's back for a moment. 'Never seen this type before,' he pronounced.
'So it's not native to Italy.'
Vettius shook his head.
'It must be poisonous,' mused Fabiola. 'Why else would it be in my bed?'
Vettius took her words in gradually. 'Who would do this?' he hissed, his face darkening. 'Everyone here loves you.'
'Keep your voice down,' Fabiola answered sharply, already concerned that his blows might have been heard outside the room.
Embarrassed, Vettius bobbed his head.
'Some women are jealous of me.'
'But to do this?' Vettius pointed angrily at the mashed snake on the floor.
Fabiola considered briefly whether she should tell the doorman about Docilosa's discovery. Then she imagined the sensation of being bitten as she clambered under the covers. Of dying before finding out what had happened to Romulus.
'It was Pompeia.'
He gasped disbelievingly. 'You're friends with her!'
'Not for some time.' Fabiola was not surprised at his ignorance. Vettius and Benignus did not usually notice the intricacies of the interactions between the women. Quickly she told him about the tiny bottle that Docilosa had found under the tiles of Pompeia's floor.
'Just say the word,' Vettius muttered, clenching his fists. 'We 'll sort the bitch out. Take her for a little stroll by the Tiber one night.'
'No,' Fabiola replied firmly. 'That would be too easy. And too obvious. Jovina must not suspect anything or we 'll both end up on a cross.'
'But that's the second time,' Vettius snarled, stamping on the snake 's head to emphasise his point. 'Lupanar girls are supposed to look after each other.'
Fabiola did not say, but the snake made it three. There had been another occasion, months before, when three thugs had attacked her and Benignus as they walked to the Forum to deposit her savings. She had been suspicious even then at the manner of the attack, which had obviously been planned. Generally robberies in daylight were opportunistic affairs, but the men that day had foolishly followed the pair the instant they had left the brothel. Someone had given them information. And there had been no attempt to steal her money, a significant detail that had passed the huge doorman by. Instead the thieves had immediately borne down on Fabiola with drawn daggers. Quickly pushing her behind him, Benignus had left no chance of interrogating the lowlifes for information. He had been enraged at the threat to his Fabiola. Leaving one with a broken neck and the other spilling the contents of his belly into the gutter, Benignus had pursued the last into the crowd, returning a few moments later with a satisfied smile. And a bloody knife.
Now there could be no doubt. A daylight assassination attempt. Poison stored secretly. The rumours that were running through the brothel. A venomous snake in her bed. Coincidence could have nothing to do with it.
Fabiola had racked her brains to work out who might be responsible. There were few possible candidates. To her knowledge, not one client that had visited her had ever left unsatisfied. It was not Jovina either. Money meant everything to the old madam and Fabiola was her best earner. The doormen adored her. Catus and the kitchen slaves simply had no reason to want her dead. That only left the other women and Fabiola could read virtually all of them like a book. Cowed by their enforced prostitution, most were happy enough to live in Fabiola's shadow.
Pompeia. It could only be Pompeia.
Jealousy had overwhelmed the redhead completely. And when attacks outside the Lupanar walls had failed, she had resorted to more stealthy ways of trying to kill her enemy.
'You two are supposed to protect us, not make us disappear,' Fabiola said, patting Vettius' heavily muscled arm. Befriending the two doormen had been one of the best moves she had ever made. She knew both would die rather than let her come to harm.
Vettius grinned in response, but he was still plainly worried. 'I've been with Pompeia when she goes out,' he replied. 'Didn't think much of it before, but the slut's been talking to members of the collegia. And Milo's gangs. She 's even been to the temple of Orcus recently.' The doorman made the sign against evil. 'Only one reason to go in there.'
Vettius' words were worrying. People went to worship the god of death if they had malicious feelings towards someone. Swarms of vendors outside sold small squares of lead sheet to visitors, and nearby scribes would write whatever damning words their customers required. Fabiola had heard that the large pool inside the shrine 's walls was full of the tiny folded curses. She shivered at the thought and muttered a quick prayer to Jupiter for his continued protection.
'Let me kill her.'
At last she felt rage building inside her. This had gone far enough. 'I'll do it,' Fabiola said, meeting Vettius' gaze squarely.
He had opened his mouth to reply when Fabiola pointed at the now motionless snake.
'Cut the head off that thing for me.'