Death at Pompeia's Wedding by Rosemary Rowe

stay, but the important councillors also collected up their wives and began emerging from the atrium. Some – now that there was space within the passageway – went across to Livia and Helena Domna to offer their embarrassed and confused respects, and the steward was immediately called on to go away again and fetch the visitors’ servants from the slave quarters upstairs.
    No one but Minimus paid any heed to me, as with his assistance I climbed down from my perch. ‘You were impressive, master,’ he murmured, smoothing down my toga-folds and trying to restore me to some dignity.
    ‘Not sufficiently impressive for this company,’ I said, a little sour, though I was secretly grateful for his praise. I felt dishevelled and I’d managed to get a sandal strap undone. ‘It is clear that no one is going to stop and speak to me, as I requested them to do.’ I handed him the drum and tugged my under-tunic straight.
    He looked at me, surprised. ‘But surely there is no need for you to question people now. It’s clear what happened to Honorius.’ He went around and started rearranging the toga at the back. ‘Will they arraign her for murder, do you think? Or simply decide that she was maddened by the gods, and confine her to some island exile till she dies? People are already saying that she must be locked away.’
    ‘Who?’ I said, stupidly, picking up the precious plate which had been standing on the table all this while.
    ‘Why, Pompeia, of course. You just heard her confess. She said she killed her father, so she must have somehow put the poison in the wine.’
    I shook my head. ‘I doubt that very much. Oh, she may have killed him, but I don’t see how. Certainly not by poisoning the wine. That arrived this very morning, so Helena Domna said, so if it were poisoned here it must have been today. Oh, don’t bother with my sandal, I’ll do it later on,’ I added, as he tried to kneel and tie it up.
    He stared up at me. ‘What makes you so sure it wasn’t Pompeia?’
    I laughed. ‘If there is one person in the household – on a day like this – who would not have the opportunity to poison anything, it must surely be the bride. We will talk to her handmaidens, naturally, but I’m almost certain we shall find that Pompeia was woken early by her slaves and has been primped and preened continually ever since. I doubt she has had a single moment to herself.’
    Minimus nodded brightly, but I found myself wishing I had Junio by my side. I would not have had to explain these obvious facts to him.
    ‘So you still want to talk to people, as you said before?’ Minimus seemed positively excited at the thought. ‘Can I help you with the questioning? Tell me who you want to interview, and I will see that they are—’
    ‘Citizen?’ The voice behind me made me turn around. It was Gracchus, still wearing the wreath around his neck, although he had taken off the one around his head. ‘I have been listening to everything you said. Do I deduce from what I overheard – and from Pompeia’s outburst – that Honorius was killed? He did not simply have an accident and die?’
    I nodded. ‘That seems to be the case. I am sorry if the omens—’
    He cut me off. ‘By poison?’
    ‘That’s the probability.’
    He looked me up and down. ‘But you don’t think Pompeia did it? Did I hear aright? Despite what she just said?’
    ‘If he thinks so, he is probably correct. This man is famous for solving mysteries,’ Minimus put in, before I had a moment to reply. ‘His Excellence Marcus Septimus has used him several times.’
    I was cursing Minimus for his impetuous remarks, but Gracchus looked thoughtfully at me. ‘Look, citizen, this is of consequence to me. Pompeia’s dowry is a considerable sum – I was promised a forest and another tract of land, as well as quite a quantity of gold. Obviously I cannot take a mad woman to wife – let alone a father-killer – but if you’re right, this might be salvaged yet. I