The Accusers by Lindsey Davis

Author:Lindsey Davis [Davis, Lindsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 0892968117
Publisher: Mysterious Press
Published: 2007-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

Calpurnia left home in her litter, which was a beaten-up chaise carried by two elderly bearers, one who seemed to have gout, neither in uniform. I could see she was the passenger, because the curtains were missing. A miserable female slave, shivering in a thin gown, wandered behind on foot.

She still had possession of the family home, but it looked as if Calpurnia Cara was already down on her luck. Had Paccius Africanus stepped in already and laid claim to domestic goods and slaves?

Was Paccius then absolutely sure the three children would not, or could not, contest their father’s odd will?

Negrinus must have known his mama had an appointment. Once her straggling party turned the far corner of the street, he quickly paid for his wine (was the supportive Carina giving him dole money?) then he marked straight across the street. He was using his latch-lifter when the door opened anyway. After a brief conversation, someone let him in. I allowed time for him to start whatever he was planning, then approached the fine front door myself.

I knocked nonchalantly. A slave I failed to recognize appeared after a long pause. “About time.” I glared with my good eye.

“Wow! What happened to you?”

“I looked up and a passing eagle shat very hard in my peeper . . . So where’s Perseus?”

“Having his lunch.”

“He has a nice life.”

“You bet!” It was said with feeling.

“I suppose he’ll enjoy several courses and a snug flirtation with the kitchen maid, then stretch out for a relaxed siesta?”

“Don’t ask me!” This lad buttoned up. He knew better than to gossip any further, but he had let me see he was unhappy. So, in Perseus we had that stock character: the uppity slave who abuses his position—and who somehow gets away with it.

I tipped the substitute. He let me in. “He’s a character!” I chortled. “Somebody’s favorite is he, your Perseus?” Not from the way I had heard Calpurnia address the lackadaisical beggar before. His neglect of his duties had made her rightly furious. But if something had gone on between Metellus senior and Saffia, and if Perseus knew about it, his arrogance would make sense.

We had a recognizable situation—though rare in a porter. More often, the uppity slave has intimate contact with the master or mistress of the house. In a boudoir maid or a correspondence clerk, abuse of status arises much more easily.

“Perseus has influence,” was all I could extract. Maybe my tip was not large enough. Or maybe the staff had learned that it was best to keep quiet.

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