'Yet others may not agree with you?'
I liked his wry attitude. 'They will if I identify the real killer.' Viridovix looked uncertain. 'I was hired to prevent this,' I grumbled. 'So yours is not the only reputation under threat, my friend.' My glum mood had convinced him. We took another swig, then I persuaded him to go through the dinner menu. Obviously a worrier, he had been carrying it around, written on a scrap of parchment which was still in a pouch at his waist:
DINNER FOR SEVEN; HOSTED BY HORTENSIUS NOVUS
Appetisers:
Salad of Lettuce and Mallow Leaves
Peacocks' Eggs
Sausage in a Ring
Baian Oysters Hortensius
Artichoke Hearts
Olives
Main Dishes:
Hare in Rich Wine Sauce
Lobster in Saffron Pot Roast Pork Crowned with Laurel
Wild Crane Halibut Pancakes Fennel; Potted Peas; Stewed Leeks and Onions: Mushrooms
Dessert:
White Cheeses
Fruits Presented on a Hesperides Tree Purchased Pastries
Wines:
With the Appetiser, Mulsum (first pressing), warmed
with Honey and malabathron flavouring With the Main Dishes, a choice of Red or White Chian
Served to Individual Taste For the Toasts after Dinner, Setinum
'And who devised this elegant collation?' I asked.
'I myself,' boasted Viridovix, then added, 'with some suggestions from Severina Zotica ...'
I was not ready to think of Zotica. 'Was the evening a success, Viridovix?'
'Certainly.'
'Your creations were well received?'
'Good ingredients,' he shrugged. 'You cannot go wrong. I am free to buy the best.' He was evidently conscientious. I discarded my private joke earlier about shiny meat-and with it any lingering doubt that his master might have been poisoned by accident, simply through eating unsafe food.
Rereading the list, I put some further queries to the cook, not all of them for professional reasons. 'What are Oysters Hortensius?'
'Poached in a light bouillon of white wine, laurel leaves, juniper berries and lovage-'
'Invented by one of the family?'
'Invented by me!' I was corrected. Of course. No one as pretentious as these freedmen would allow visitors to be served up with a recipe named after a Celtic slave. Viridovix provided the creative skill; they took the credit.
'Mushrooms make people think twice nowadays .. .' I was referring to the infamous murder of the Emperor Claudius by his wife. Viridovix, who was well down his winecup, merely sniffed. 'Did the pastries come from Minnius along the road?'
'As usual. His work is not bad, and he gives us special rates.
'Because one of the freedmen leases him the stall?'
'I don't know why, I am a cook.'
'How did that come about?'
'Prisoner of war. Novus acquired me,' Viridovix murmured rather sweetly, 'because the slavemaster declared I was a tribal leader.'
'Snobbery!'
'He likes having his porridge stirred by a ruined prince.' The cook was not a bitter man. I enjoyed the light way he mocked his master's vulgarity.
'Were you one?' He smiled in silence. 'Still, perhaps you were once something better than a cook...Was it hard, coming here?'
'This is how I have to live,' Viridovix said quietly.
'So you knuckle down?'
'This is my work -I choose to do it well,' he added, with the dignity of the mildly drunk.
'An individual's privilege!' I must have been drunk too. I noticed he wore the same overdone uniform as Hyacinthus, laden with gaudy braid. The cook also sported a twisted silver torque. 'Did that necklet come with you when you were a prisoner?'
'Hardly! I have been supplied with it.'
'Extra colour? Do I gather from the full fancy dress that you supervised the servers personally?'
'Bad carving can ruin my best work.'
'I intended to ask the chamberlain who ate what.'
'He will not know,' said Viridovix dismissively.