Free Roman Blood by Steven Saylor

curiosity or the desire to follow his master. I was too hot to puzzle over it.
    "One thing I must ask of you, Gordianus." Cicero was beginning to show signs of exertion, but he talked through them, like a true stoic. "I appreciated your candor when you spoke your mind in my study. No one can say you are less than an honest man. But hold your tongue in 48

    Caecilia's house. Her family has long been allied with Sulla—his late fourth wife was a Metella."
    " Y o u m ean the daughter of Delmaticus? The one he divorced while she lay dying?"
    "Exactly. The Metelli were not happy about the divorce, despite Sulla's excuses."
    " T h e augurs looked in a bowl of sheep entrails and told him his wife's illness would pollute his household."
    " S o Sulla claimed. Caecilia herself would probably take no offense at anything you might say, but you can never tell. She's an old woman, unmarried and childless. Given to strange ways—such as happens when a woman is left to her own devices too long, without a husband and family to occupy her with wholesome pursuits. Her passion these days is for whatever Oriental cult happens to be new and fashionable in Rome, the more foreign and bizarre, the better. She's not much concerned with mere earthly matters.
    "But it's likely there'll be another in the house with keener ears and sharper eyes. I'm thinking of my good young friend Marcus Messalla—
    we call him Rufus, on account of his red hair. He's no stranger to Caecilia Metella's house; he's known her since he was a child, and she's almost like an aunt to him. A fine young man—or not quite a man yet, only sixteen. Rufus comes to my house rather often, for gatherings and lectures and such, and he already knows his way around the law courts. He's quite eager to help in Sextus Roscius's behalf."
    " B u t ? "
    "But his family connections make him dangerous. Hortensius is his half brother—when Hortensius dropped the case, it was young Rufus he sent to my door to beg me to take it on. More to the point, the boy's older sister is that same young Valeria whom Sulla recently took to be his fifth wife.
    Poor Rufus has little affection for his new brother-in-law, but the marriage does put him in an awkward position. I would ask that you restrain yourself from slandering our esteemed dictator in his presence."
    " O f course, Cicero." When I left the house that morning I had never expected to be circulating with high nobles like the Metelli and Messalli.
    I looked down at the garments I wore, a common citizen's toga over a plain tunic. The only touch of purple was a wine stain near the hem.
    Bethesda claimed to have spent hours trying to remove it without success.
    49

    By the time we reached the summit, even Tiro was showing signs of fatigue. His dark curls were pasted to his forehead with sweat. His face was flushed with exertion—or perhaps with something more like excitement. I wondered again about his eagerness to reach Caecilia Metella's house.
    "This is it," Cicero huffed, pausing to catch his breath. The house before us was a sprawling mass of rose stucco, ringed about by ancient oaks. The doorway was recessed beneath a portico and flanked by two helmeted soldiers in full battle gear with swords at their belts and spears in their fists. Grizzled veterans from Sulla's army, I thought, and gave a start.
    " T h e guards," Cicero said, making a vague gesture with his hand as he mounted the steps. "Ignore them. They must be sweltering beneath all that leather. T i r o ? "
    Tiro, who had been staring in fascination at the soldier's gear, sprang ahead of his master to rap at the heavy oak doors. A long moment passed in which we all caught our breaths and removed our hats beneath the shaded portico.
    The door opened inward on silent hinges. Cool air and the scent of incense wafted out to greet us.
    Tiro and the door slave exchanged the typical formalities—"My master comes to see your mistress"—then we waited for another moment before the slave of the