Rubicon (rsr-7) by Steven Saylor

Author:Steven Saylor [Saylor, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_history

• • •

I woke to the smell of roasting pork.

An hour earlier, another guest had arrived at Cicero's villa, accompanied by a sizable retinue. Cicero had ordered a pig butchered to feed the lot of them. After I splashed my face with water and dressed, I found my way to the roasting pit behind the house where a crowd of men passed a wineskin and watched the carcass as it was slowly turned on a spit. They appeared to be a ragtag bodyguard of freedmen and slaves. Their tents, pitched outside the house, were tattered and patched and their stacks of mismatched weapons and armor looked to be of poor quality.

Some of the men were playing trigon in a clearing by the vineyard. Young Marcus was among them, laughing and monopolizing the leather ball. An enthusiastic athlete and hunter was quite the opposite of what I would have expected of Cicero's son. I wondered if his father approved of his consorting with such lowly types.

I found Tiro and asked him what personage worthy of Cicero's hospitality had arrived accompanied by such a shabby retinue. Before Tiro could answer, I saw the visitor emerge from the little bathhouse connected by a covered walkway to the main building. He wore nothing but a large towel wrapped around his waist. His florid face and fleshy arms were flushed from the heat. His rust-colored beard and the wiry hair on his chest sparkled with beads of water. He disappeared into the house.

"But that can't be…" I began.

Tiro nodded. "Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus."

"But I thought Caesar captured Redbeard at Corfinium."

"Captured him yes, but couldn't hold him. Or so Domitius tells it." Tiro lowered his voice. "Personally, I suspect Caesar simply let him go as a gesture of clemency. But Domitius has his own version of events. Several versions, actually. According to Cicero, in the hour since he arrived he's already told three different tales of his hairbreadth escape. I'm sure he wouldn't mind telling yet another, if you care to listen. But don't ask him about his botched suicide. He's liable to burst into tears."

I looked at Tiro sidelong, unable to tell whether he was joking.

"And whatever you do, don't mention that I'm here," he went on.

"Domitius isn't privy to the secret of your return to Italy?"

"No. We want to keep it that way, for now."

"Why don't we resume our journey, then, and get away from here? I'm rested and eager to get started."

Tiro smiled and shook his head. "Cicero may have new instructions for me, after he's spoken with Domitius. We'll leave tomorrow. Get some more rest, Gordianus. Relax while you can. The way between here and Brundisium may be hard going."

A little later, Cicero and Domitius set out on a leisurely ride around the estate, to discuss their affairs away from prying ears. Tiro seemed to vanish. Young Marcus spent the afternoon playing trigon. As for me, I passed the day pleasantly enough in my host's study. Cicero had instructed his slaves to give

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