Cassia sent me a little smile.“You are still caught up in the chariot-racing talk.Though I agree.”She drew a horizontal line with her spoon.“Second—a man wishes to kill Nero but knows he never can get close to him or trust anyone close to him.He hears of this strange bargain that Nero keeps Priscus alive to preserve his own life, and decides to use that as his assassination attempt.All he has to do is kill Priscus—I suggest Priscus was supposed to have been murdered when he delivered the ransom—why else would a dozen pirates be sent to meet him and insist on Priscus coming alone?If you had not been there, both Priscus and Decimus would be dead.”
I agreed.I remembered how I had to insist on coming along to the final ransom delivery, and the pirates had finally agreed to allow only me to accompany Priscus.They must have believed they could easily dispose of me as well.
Cassia went on.“The pirates are instructed to attack, Priscus and his son will be killed, and the incident put down to a ransoming gone wrong.The pirates flee with the money, never to be seen again.Presumably to meet with whomever hired them, or perhaps they were to keep the full ransom as their payment.The assassin wants Nero dead—the money is immaterial.”
A very wealthy man could let go two caskets of gold if it achieved his goal.Usually those who planned to assassinate Caesars were rich and powerful.They did not kill for money but out of ambition or fear of what thatprincepswould do to Rome.Of course, that description did not fit Avitus.
“But Priscus lets Celnus talk him into hiring a bodyguard,” I said slowly.“He asks for me.”
“And the assassin realizes that you can thwart his plans.You are the best fighter in Rome.Even a group of pirates would have trouble against you—which proved to be the case.So our assassin goes to Floriana, knowing you frequent her house, and gets her to agree to kill you in your sleep.Perhaps he offered her a fortune, as he did the pirates.Or he had some sort of hold over her.She might have been terrified into helping.Only Lucia’s loyalty to you kept you alive.She put rhubarb leaves in Floriana’s salad, which made Floriana sick enough to take to her bed and spare you.When you fetched Marcianus to save Floriana’s life, Floriana might have experienced remorse for trying to harm you.She meets with the killer behind the Porticus Octaviae, possibly to explain what went wrong, or to tell him that she wants no more part in this, and he kills her.”
Cassia made an abrupt line below the last then turned her spoon around and went back to eating her stew.
“The man Lucia and Marcia saw must have been Avitus,” I said.“The description fits him.Would he have the connections to arrange a kidnapping in Antioch?And an exchange in Ostia?And money to pay Floriana to help him?Or perhaps he was only a go-between.”
“Either is possible.”Cassia chewed thoughtfully.“The vigiles are made up of freedmen who devote themselves to keeping the peace and watching for fires.Freedmen can become quite rich if they are clever.Perhaps Avitus took the job as vigile in order to further his plan to assassinate theprinceps.Vigiles roam the streets at will, day and night, and enter any house they like, as Avitus did with us.”
I broke my roll into pieces and dropped them in the stew.“Maybe we should wait for Avitus to try to kill me again, and grab him.I’ll turn him upside down until he confesses.”
“Set a trap, you mean?”This idea did not seem to alarm Cassia in the slightest.“Hmm.We could do that, without simply waiting for him to turn up.”
“How?”I asked.
“Leave that to me.Now, let’s finish our meal and visit Priscus, before it grows too dark.”
“Celnus won’t allow us see him in the evening,” I warned.“Visits are only in the morning, unless Priscus invites us to dine.”
“Leave that to me as well.I would like to question the team of Celnus and Kephalos again.They know much, those two.”
I’d learned enough about Cassia to pity them.She’d pry information from them whether they liked it or not.
We both turned our attention to finishing our meal, then made ready to trudge to the Esquiline.
As expected,Celnus did not want to admit us.The master was dining, Celnus said with his usual contempt.Priscus was with guests and would not be disturbed.Cassia told Celnus cheerfully that we’d wait.
Celnus began to argue, but Priscus’s son, Decimus, who’d emerged from the inner recesses of the house, spied us and bade Celnus to let us into the atrium.
“Father will want to see you.”Decimus spoke to me, not Cassia, who did her best to fade against the wall.I left her to interrogate Celnus and Kephalos, and followed Decimus toward the triclinium.
Priscus was hosting a supper for five.Reclining couches surrounded a table laden with dishes.Priscus was draped in a toga, which he wrestled with as he reached for grapes, cheese, and his cup of wine.
Three guests, all men, surrounded him—the fifth place was for Decimus.
“I’ve brought you a gift, Father,” Decimus said as we entered.
Priscus brightened, shoved aside the folds of his toga, and climbed to his feet.“My friend and guardian, Leonidas.Please, join us.We’ll make room.”
I assessed the faces of the three guests, one of which was the middle-class client who’d once saved Priscus’s life.The expressions on each ranged from surprise, to distaste, to downright disgust from the middle-class man.
I knew that if Priscus let a gladiator, even a former one, perch on a dining couch with his distinguished visitors, the gossip would be all over Rome tomorrow, and Priscus ridiculed.Hesaw no shame in speaking to those he wished, but he would not be praised for it.
“I am humbled by your kindness.”I spoke awkwardly, but no one expected a gladiator to be smooth-tongued.“I will not sully your table with my presence.The fact that you admitted me to your house is enough.”
“Come, come, you must be hungry.”Priscus waved at the table.“There is plenty.”
“I dined already, at home,” I said, seizing on the excuse.
Priscus looked puzzled at my refusal, but he did not pursue it, to the relief of his guests.
