The Exiled by David Barbaree

Author:David Barbaree
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction

IV

I, Gaius

A.D. 79

Domitilla

22 August

The Villa Piso, Baiae

The undertaker’s body is discovered the day of my wedding. Jacasta brings me the news in the morning, after her daily visit to the market.

‘He was floating in the lake,’ Jacasta says, ‘inside the break wall.’

We are in the shade of the colonnade, by the fish pond. Red mullet tails break the surface, with a splash of water.

‘You’re sure it was the same man who tried so desperately to speak with me?’

I think of the skinny man standing outside the stadium in Puteoli, held at bay by Praetorians, holding his green cap. He’d looked earnest and hopeful.

‘Yes, Mistress,’ she says. ‘I happened upon the Praetorians dragging him out of the water. His face was bloated and sickly, but I recognized him from the day of the gladiatorial matches. He wore the same black robe, and he had the same balding head and black beard.’

I had refused to see him because Caesar’s sister should not make it a habit to meet with undertakers. But now that he is gone, the decision seems cruel.

‘He was from Reate? Was he not?’

Reate was the city of Father’s birth. We still have a family home there.

Jacasta shrugs. She doesn’t remember where he was from.

‘I would like to see him,’ I say.

Livia, the maid who dealt with the undertaker, is within earshot of the conversation. She says, ‘There is no need, Mistress. You shouldn’t be close to an undertaker, even one who is dead.’

Jacasta reluctantly agrees. ‘She’s right. And we are short on Praetorians to escort you,’ she says. ‘They have been called out to help drag the undertaker out of the lake.’

Beyond the colonnade, walking through the garden under the unforgiving summer sun is the Batavian. Since his defeat, Titus has put him to work as an Imperial Guard. ‘We can bring him,’ I say, pointing at the Batavian.

*

At the Praetorian barracks, we are escorted to the stables. We find Virgilius and three Praetorians standing over a naked body.

‘Mistress,’ Virgilius says. ‘This is unexpected.’ He motions for his soldiers to give us space and, with his hand on my arm, turns me away from the corpse. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see him,’ I say turning to the lifeless body.

‘Oh?’ Virgilius looks confused. ‘Do you know him?’

‘I think so,’ I say. ‘May I look closer?’

He nods reluctantly and we move toward the corpse.

The man’s skin looks reptilian, nearly green, and bloated. Patches of black hair stick out of his armpits and cover his crotch and shrivelled cock. His feet are pointing in opposite directions. He looks more eel than man.

Still, his beard and balding head are distinctive.

‘I know him.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He tried to meet with me, twice. He is – he was an undertaker. He told my maid that he had important information for me. But’ – my voice begins to sound defensive – ‘I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard such a claim. I thought him opportunistic, and declined to meet with him.’

Virgilius nods.

‘Was he killed?’ I ask.

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