Chapter 29
Crispina was relieved that Catullus accepted her half-command, half-invitation and showed up at her parents’ house around midday the next day. She had informed her parents he might pay her a visit to show her his latest poetry. He was well-respected enough that they wouldn’t turn him away, even if he did have a reputation for writing rather scandalous verse.
He carried a sheaf of papyrus under his arm when he arrived, and spread it over the table set up in the sunlit atrium. Mother was pacing around the atrium as if enjoying the pleasant air, but Crispina knew she had one eye on the pair of them.
Crispina’s lips tightened, and she reached for one of the poems. “Is this one in hendecasyllables?” she asked, pitching her voice louder than necessary.
“Indeed, you have a perceptive eye,” Catullus said, following her gaze toward her mother.
They engaged in meaningless chatter about the merits of one meter over another until Mother sighed and strode from the atrium. Crispina relaxed against her chair. For once, her mother’s apathy toward poetry worked in her favor.
Once they were alone, Catullus leaned toward her. “I’ve been thinking on it, and I cannot uncover any way to help Aelius defeat Rufus.”
Crispina bit her lip. Her mind had been buzzing all through the night, and she hadn’t yet come up with any insight either. “Can we not do what Rufus did to me? Find some dirt on him, something we could use against him?”
“I know all the gossip, and there’s nothing on him. He’s unmarried, so there’s nothing even as innocuous as an affair. He’s disgustingly rich, so no embarrassing debts. He honors the gods. Despite his blackmailing of you, he seems to be an upstanding citizen in every respect.”
She stared at the papers before her, as if Catullus’s love verses could reveal something. She willed herself to think, to use the mind she had cultivated through reading and education.
Her thoughts went to Penelope, her favorite character from literature. Penelope was as crafty as her famed husband. Except unlike Odysseus, Penelope hadn’t needed something as ostentatious as a giant horse to carry out her trickery. She had only needed a simple loom and time to unravel the threads…
Maybe Crispina didn’t need a complicated plan either. One simple fact coalesced in her mind. “It’s not just Aelius and Rufus,” Crispina realized aloud. “There are other candidates. There are ten plebeian tribunes elected, correct?”
“Yes, but Aelius chose to focus his efforts on Rufus because he had the best chance of beating him. Romans hate new money as much as ambitious freedmen.”
“But in theory, Aelius doesn’t have to beat Rufus. If someone else were to be vulnerable, Aelius could still win a place.”
“I suppose,” Catullus said with an unconvinced frown. “But we determined most of the other candidates were almost certain of winning.”
“Who else is running?”
Catullus sifted through the papers he’d brought and handed her a list of names. She skimmed down it. Most of them she didn’t recognize, but she paused at one name. “Epidius Verus. I recognize that name.” She thought hard, trying to recall where she knew the name. Was he one of her father’s friends? An acquaintance of Horatia’s?
“So?”
Epidius Verus. Epidius Verus.She rose and paced, hoping the movement would jostle something loose in her mind.
It hit her with a bolt of clarity. Taurus, Cassandra’s lover, had previously worked in the house of Epidius Verus. Taurus had refused to reveal why his former master had suddenly decided to sell him. There was something suspicious there, but it hadn’t seemed to matter at the time.
She relayed all this to Catullus. He eyed her skeptically. “You think this slave knows something that could ruin Verus’s chances in the election?”
Her heart beat faster. “I certainly hope so.” It was a long shot, but as of now, it was their only lead. “If I’m right, I could force him to drop out of the race. If no one could vote for him, do you think Aelius might win a spot?”
“It’s possible,” Catullus said.
“Then I need to speak to Taurus.” Crispina jumped to her feet, her body aflame with new purpose. She could do it. She could find a way to win this election for Aelius. It wasn’t the way he should have won, but maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.
Crispina set her plan in motion immediately. She sent a messenger to Aelius’s house with strict instructions to go to the kitchen entrance at the back of the house and speak only to Taurus. She didn’t want Aelius to know what she was trying to do. If she failed, he might see it as unwarranted meddling.
It took some thinking to figure out how to actually meet Taurus. He couldn’t come to her parents’ house, and she couldn’t go to Aelius’s house. She debated asking him to meet her in a market square, but her parents wouldn’t let her go anywhere without an escort, and her mother would have some questions if she was seen speaking to a strange man, especially a slave, in the city.
Finally, she asked Catullus to send her an invitation to a fabricated midday gathering of poets and intellectuals at his house a few days later. She told her parents Horatia had been invited too, and received permission to attend.
The messenger would ask Taurus to find an excuse to leave the house on the given day, which shouldn’t be difficult as there were always errands to be run, and come to Catullus’s house. She knew she was asking him to take a risk by sneaking around behind Aelius’s back, but she sensed he would comply since she was responsible for reuniting him with Cassandra.
On the appointed day, she paced in Catullus’s atrium, waiting for Taurus. Catullus sat at a small table in a shaft of sunlight, twirling a stylus between his fingers as he glowered down at a wax tablet. He seemed to be trying to write, but didn’t appear to be having much luck.
The minutes stretched on. Crispina glanced up at the opening in the ceiling, gauging the angle of the sun. It was past midday now. What if Taurus hadn’t been able to get away? Or what if he had just decided not to take the risk? All this tenuous hope would have been for nothing.
