Free SPQR III: the sacrilege by John Maddox Roberts Page B

all so unexpected that there was no way to decide whether anyone had fought really well or badly, so the crowd withheld the death signal, although a few fighters died later of their wounds.
    Caesar had intended this to be a novelty act for that one set of games, but the crowd's fancy was taken and they began to demand the net fighters. Now I saw that Statilius Taurus had added them to his regular categories of fighters. Traditionalists like my father found them entirely too exotic, and Cato, predictably, said it was a disgrace to the tradition of mortal combat.
    A slave guided me to the quarters of the resident physician, and there I found my friend Asklepiodes, the world's greatest expert on mortal wounds. We spent several minutes exchanging greetings, for which he had a Greek's fondness. We swiftly brought each other up to date on our doings of the past year or so; then I broached my current business, telling him of the events of the previous night.
    "Ah, Decius, how like you!" Asklepiodes said. "Back in Rome only three days and already involved in a murder!"
    "One successful," I said. "The other, fortunately, merely attempted." I handed him the wrapped parcel of pastries. "Is there some way to test these, short of feeding them to a slave?"
    "I will try an animal. It is difficult to induce a dog to eat sweet pastries, but perhaps a pig will oblige. These tests are not infallible, I must warn you. There are substances deadly to humans but harmless to animals."
    "If it is a poison," I asked, "is there any way to determine what sort?"
    "That is extremely difficult unless you use a human subject, who can describe his symptoms. I am, of course, forbidden to do any such thing."
    "I wouldn't ask you to," I said. "Do you think you could get a look at Capito's body? Unfortunately, I have no official position just now."
    "I am acquainted with the most prominent undertakers. There should be no difficulty. From your description, no detailed examination should be necessary. A quick look should suffice. I shall attend to it this evening."
    "I shall be grateful," I told him.
    "My friend Decius, life is always so much more interesting when you are in Rome. Please feel free to call upon my services."
    "I'll be back tomorrow," I told him.
    "Try to live that long," he urged. Asklepiodes had a strange sense of humor, but one must make allowances for Greeks.
    As I walked back across the river toward my home in the Subura, I began to regret that I had not thought to arm myself before going out that day. I had been so elated at the prospect of attending my first Senate meeting that it had caused me to be less than cautious. It is forbidden to bear arms within the pomerium and doubly forbidden to carry them into the Curia, but I was prepared to risk censure. A recent attempt on my life always lowered my respect for custom.
    Now here I was wandering alone through streets that might harbor Clodius's minions. Even as I thought this, I was struck by something else: Poison was not his style. Whatever else you could say about Clodius, he was always perfectly willing to kill his enemies with his own hand, right out in public.
    But who else was my mortal enemy? I hadn't offended anyone lately. Only madmen like Clodius nurse grudges year after year, awaiting a chance to strike. I had made my peace with most of my enemies, and the rest of them seemed to have forgotten me. It was all a great puzzle.
    I managed to reach my house without homicide and sent for Hermes. My aged slave Cato clucked dolefully.
    "Nothing good will come of having that young lout in the house, master. He's destined for the cross."
    "Most likely. But until that sad day, let's see what use we can get out of him. Send him in."
    Hermes came in, smirking and swaggering as if he had done something heroic, something praiseworthy. I would have been astounded to learn he had done something moderately honest, but slaves perceive things differently from the freeborn. Sometimes one must humor