offended. 'Spartacus invincible? We'll soon see about that.'
'Invincible when confronted by a Roman army, I mean. The Spartacans have beaten every contingent sent against them; they've even sent two Roman consuls running home in disgrace. I suppose that when Pompey—'
'Pompey!' Mummius spat the name.
'Yes, I suppose that when Pompey finally manages to bring back his troops from Spain, the revolt will be quickly disposed of. . .' I rambled on only because the topic seemed to irritate my guest, and I wanted to keep him distracted while I drove up my price.
Mummius cooperated gloriously, pacing, gnashing his teeth, glowering. But it seemed he would not descend to gossiping about a subject as important as the slave revolt. 'We'll see about that,' was all he would mutter, trying feebly to interrupt me. Finally he raised his voice to command level and effectively cut me off. 'We'll soon see about Spartacus! Now, then, you were saying something about your rates.'
I cleared my throat and took a sip of warm wine. 'Yes. Well, as I was saying, with prices wildly out of control—'
'Yes, yes—'
'Well, I don't know what you or your employer may have heard about my rates. I don't know how you obtained my name or who recommended me.'
'Never mind that.'
'All right. Though you did say five times . . .' 'Yes, five times your daily pay!' trying to sound professionally cool while fountains of silver coins splashed in my head. Four hundred sesterces a day, multiplied by five guaranteed days of work, equalled two thousand sesterces. At last I could have the back wall of the house repaired, have new tiles laid to replace the cracked ones in the atrium, perhaps even afford a new slave girl to help Bethesda with her duties . . .
Mummius nodded gravely. 'It's as important a case as you're ever likely to be called for.'
'And sensitive, I take it.'
'Extremely.'
'Requiring discretion.'
'Great discretion,' he agreed.
'I assume that more than mere property is at stake. Honour, then?'
'More than honour,' said Mummius gravely, with a haunted look in his eyes.
'A life, then? A life at stake?' From the look on his face I knew that we were talking about a case of murder. A fat fee, a mysterious client, a murder - I had no resistance left. I did my best to make my face a blank.
Mummius looked very grave — the way that men look on a battlefield, not in the rush of excitement before the killing, but afterwards, amid the carnage and despair. 'Not a life,' he said slowly, 'not merely a single life at stake, but many lives. Scores of lives - men, women, children - all hang in the balance. Unless something is done to stop it, blood will flow like water, and the wailing of babies will be heard in the very Jaws of Hades.'
I finished my wine and set it aside. 'Marcus Mummius, will you not tell me outright who sent you, and what it is you want me to do?'
He shook his head. 'I've said too much as it is. Perhaps, by the time we arrive, the crisis will be over, the problem solved, and there'll be no need for you after all. In that case, it's best that you know nothing, now or ever.'
'No explanation?'
'None. But you'll be paid, no matter what.'
I nodded. 'How long will we be away from Rome?'
'Five days, as I said before.'
'You seem very sure.'
'Five days,' he assured me, 'and then you can return to Rome. Unless it's sooner. But no longer than that. In five days all will be finished, one way or another, for better ... or for worse.'
'I see,' I said, not seeing at all. 'And where exactly are we going?'
Mummius pressed his Lips tightly shut.
'Because,' I said, 'I'm not at all sure that I care to be traipsing about the countryside just now, without even an idea of where I'm headed. There's a little slave revolt going on; I believe we were discussing it only a moment ago. My sources in the countryside tell me that unnecessary travel is highly inadvisable.'
'You'll be safe,' Mummius snapped with authority.
'Then I have your word as a soldier - or
'Invincible when confronted by a Roman army, I mean. The Spartacans have beaten every contingent sent against them; they've even sent two Roman consuls running home in disgrace. I suppose that when Pompey—'
'Pompey!' Mummius spat the name.
'Yes, I suppose that when Pompey finally manages to bring back his troops from Spain, the revolt will be quickly disposed of. . .' I rambled on only because the topic seemed to irritate my guest, and I wanted to keep him distracted while I drove up my price.
Mummius cooperated gloriously, pacing, gnashing his teeth, glowering. But it seemed he would not descend to gossiping about a subject as important as the slave revolt. 'We'll see about that,' was all he would mutter, trying feebly to interrupt me. Finally he raised his voice to command level and effectively cut me off. 'We'll soon see about Spartacus! Now, then, you were saying something about your rates.'
I cleared my throat and took a sip of warm wine. 'Yes. Well, as I was saying, with prices wildly out of control—'
'Yes, yes—'
'Well, I don't know what you or your employer may have heard about my rates. I don't know how you obtained my name or who recommended me.'
'Never mind that.'
'All right. Though you did say five times . . .' 'Yes, five times your daily pay!' trying to sound professionally cool while fountains of silver coins splashed in my head. Four hundred sesterces a day, multiplied by five guaranteed days of work, equalled two thousand sesterces. At last I could have the back wall of the house repaired, have new tiles laid to replace the cracked ones in the atrium, perhaps even afford a new slave girl to help Bethesda with her duties . . .
Mummius nodded gravely. 'It's as important a case as you're ever likely to be called for.'
'And sensitive, I take it.'
'Extremely.'
'Requiring discretion.'
'Great discretion,' he agreed.
'I assume that more than mere property is at stake. Honour, then?'
'More than honour,' said Mummius gravely, with a haunted look in his eyes.
'A life, then? A life at stake?' From the look on his face I knew that we were talking about a case of murder. A fat fee, a mysterious client, a murder - I had no resistance left. I did my best to make my face a blank.
Mummius looked very grave — the way that men look on a battlefield, not in the rush of excitement before the killing, but afterwards, amid the carnage and despair. 'Not a life,' he said slowly, 'not merely a single life at stake, but many lives. Scores of lives - men, women, children - all hang in the balance. Unless something is done to stop it, blood will flow like water, and the wailing of babies will be heard in the very Jaws of Hades.'
I finished my wine and set it aside. 'Marcus Mummius, will you not tell me outright who sent you, and what it is you want me to do?'
He shook his head. 'I've said too much as it is. Perhaps, by the time we arrive, the crisis will be over, the problem solved, and there'll be no need for you after all. In that case, it's best that you know nothing, now or ever.'
'No explanation?'
'None. But you'll be paid, no matter what.'
I nodded. 'How long will we be away from Rome?'
'Five days, as I said before.'
'You seem very sure.'
'Five days,' he assured me, 'and then you can return to Rome. Unless it's sooner. But no longer than that. In five days all will be finished, one way or another, for better ... or for worse.'
'I see,' I said, not seeing at all. 'And where exactly are we going?'
Mummius pressed his Lips tightly shut.
'Because,' I said, 'I'm not at all sure that I care to be traipsing about the countryside just now, without even an idea of where I'm headed. There's a little slave revolt going on; I believe we were discussing it only a moment ago. My sources in the countryside tell me that unnecessary travel is highly inadvisable.'
'You'll be safe,' Mummius snapped with authority.
'Then I have your word as a soldier - or
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