HELENA JUSTINA PLACED a deliciously cool hand on my forehead, then told me I was certainly not going out again. She carried the baby off to another room, and set herself to look after me. This could be fun. She had seen me battered by villains plenty of times, but in the three years I had known her I had probably not had a streaming cold.
“I keep telling you to dry your hair properly before you leave the baths.”
“It's nothing to do with wet hair.”
“And your arm's so horribly burned. You're probably feverish.”
“I'll need nursing then,” I suggested hopefully.
“Bedrest?” asked Helena, in a rather mocking tone. Her eyes had the glint of a girl who knows her loved one is sinking, and will be in her power.
“And massage?” I pleaded.
“Too soft. I'll prepare you a good strong aloe purge.”
This was just banter. She could see I was not malingering. Lunch was bestowed upon me, with the daintiest titbits tenderly passed my way. Wine was warmed. My boots were eased off and replaced with slippers' A steaming bowl of pine oil was prepared for me to breathe under a napkin. A message was sent to the Saepta to inform Anacrites I had retired hurt and was being kept at home" Like a pupil granted a day off school, I felt better at once.
“You can't go out to dinner tonight-”
“I have to.“ Playing the dutiful patient under the napkin, I called out the story of the dead ostrich and the Sacred Geese.
“That's terrible. Imagine the furore if the geese had been killed instead. Marcus, the last thing Vespasian needs at this juncture is the public imagination inflamed by a bad omen.”
From all I had heard, Vespasian was himself pretty superstitious; it went with being country born. I popped out of the inhalent tent and was firmly pushed back under again. “Don't worry,” I coughed as the aromatic heat enveloped me. “I warned the custodian to keep his mouth shut-”
“Keep breathing.” Thanks, darling!
“Vespasian need never know.”
Helena sounded crisp: “Saturninus should be challenged, however. He must be behind poisoning the sacks of corn, as revenge for Calliopus freeing his leopardess.”
“It wouldn't have been in anyone's interest to kill Juno's geese.”
“No. So the threat of unwanted imperial attention might help cool the quarrel. I'll go to dinner with Saturninus tonight and warn him-”
“Either we cry off-or we both go.”
“Well then; I'll do the talking.” All my life women who reckoned they knew what was good for me had been telling me that.
I nodded, as best I could in my position, crouched over the inhalant bowl, for once grateful not to have to take control. I could trust Helena to say the right thing and to ask the right questions.
Bored, I came up for air, only to wish myself hidden again. We had a visitor: Smaractus must have been watching to see if I came home for lunch. The fact that he had allowed me long enough to eat it and to mellow warned me that his mission must be serious.
“Is there a funny smell here, Falco?” He must have caught a whiff of the goose dung Nux had wallowed in.
“Well, it's either something nasty the landlord ought to clear away-or it's the landlord himself: What do you want? I'm ill; make it quick.”
“They say you're involved with the new amphitheatre opening.”
Blowing my nose, I made no reply.
Smaractus squirmed with ingratiating oiliness. Now I really felt sick. “I wondered if there was any chance of you putting in a word for me, Falco?”
“Olympus! I must be delirious.”
“No, you heard him,” said Helena.
I was about to tell him to jump in the Tiber wearing lead-soled boots, when loyally to Lenia prevailed. I wanted to get her off my back, for one thing. “It would be a pleasure.” With luck it just sounded as though a sore throat made me croak, not reluctance to utter those charming words. “I'll make a bargain, Smaractus. Sign the release for the dowry and divorce Lenia, then I'll see what I can do. If not, well you know my position; as an old friend, I promised to help her sort out her affairs. She would never forgive me if I did more for you than for her.”
He was furious. “I'll see her in Hades first.”
“I'll draw you a map of how to find the Styx. It's your decision. Your outfit is hardly on the list for the opening ceremony. Your gladiators' school is struggling-”
“Only struggling to expand, Falco!”
“Think about my terms then. There will be fabulous pickings when the amphitheatre opens. But a man has to act on his principles-” Smaractus wouldn't recognise a principle if it walked up on six legs and bit the end of his nose.
I buried my head under the napkin and lost myself in soothing steam. I heard a growl, but I did not investigate. Lenia would soon tell me if he did anything-useful or otherwise.
Various other visitors tried to bother me that afternoon, but by then I was tucked up in bed with the dog warming my feet and the bedroom door firmly closed. As I dozed I was vaguely aware of Helena's voice dismissing the intruders. One sounded like Anacrites. Then I heard my young nephew Gaius, no doubt being bribed to look after Julia for us that night. Another, I was more sorry to hear, could have been my old pal Petronius, but he too was sent away. I found out later he had brought me some wine, his favourite remedy for colds as it was for everything. There are doctors who agree with him" Mind you, there are doctors who will agree anything. Plenty of dead patients could testify to that.
Eventually, just when I felt happy to stay where I was for the rest of the week, Helena roused me and brought me a basin of hot water to wash. I made a cursory effort with a sponge and comb, then pulled on several undertunics and finally the new russet garment. It was so pristine it was just waiting to have a really purple sauce accidentally spilled down it. It felt too bulky, and the sleeves resisted free movement. Whereas my old green number had sat on me like a second skin, in this one I was, constantly aware of itchy cloth and folds I wasn't expecting. It smelt of fullers' chemicals too.
Helena Justina made herself deaf to my muttering. Once I was ready-as ready as I was prepared to make myself-I lay on the bed and watched glumly as she quietly dressed her hair. Before she left her father's house to live with me, maids would have curled her long soft locks with hot tongs, but now she had to comb, wind and spear her hair herself: She had become adept with the fine knobbed pins; she made no complaint. Then she peered into a blurry bronze hand mirror, trying to apply wineless rouge and lupinseed powder by the dim light of a small oil lamp. At that point she did start muttering to herself: December was a poor month for beautification. The fine eye-work with colours drawn from green glass flasks on silver spatulas entailed bending close to the rectangular mirror set into her jewel casket, and even that caused explosions of frustration. I heaved myself upright and refilled the lamp for her, not that it seemed to help. And I was in her way, apparently.
According to Helena she was not really bothering. That would be why this took over an hour.
Just when I was comfortable and nodding off again, she pronounced herself ready to escort me to dinner. She was now tastefully bedecked in pale green, with her amber necklace and wooden-soled slippers, topped off by a thick winter wrap that hung around her rather alluringly. She made a graceful contrast to me in my tortuous russet.
“You look very smart, Marcus.” I sighed. “I've borrowed my parents' litter so you won't be exposed to the weather. It's a cold evening though-” As if the new tunic were not trouble enough, then she hit me with the ultimate embarrassment: “You could wear your Gallic coat!”
Bought in Lower Germany in a rash moment, this was a sturdy, shapeless, warm felt robe. It had wide sewn-on sleeves that stuck out at right angles and a ludicrous pointed hood. It was intended to be storm-proof; Stylishness had not been part of its make up. I had sworn never to be seen in my home city wearing anything so crude" But I must have been really sick that night: despite all protests, Helena somehow swaddled me in my Gallic coat, fastening the toggles under my chin as if I was three years old.
Now I knew I should have stayed in bed. I had planned to waylay Saturninus with my sophistication. Instead, I arrived at his smart house, bundling out of a borrowed litter with a runny nose, fevered eyes, and looking like some little hunchbacked Celtic forest god. What made me most furious was that I realised Helena Justina was laughing at me.