Death at Pompeia's Wedding by Rosemary Rowe Page A

heard what you were saying and I applaud your reasoning. What would it cost to have you demonstrate that she is innocent?’ He saw me hesitate, and he added urgently, ‘Prove that it was someone else, and I will pay you handsomely.’
    I frowned. ‘But citizen, she made it clear she didn’t want to marry you. I should be loath to—’
    ‘Not exactly, citizen. There was nothing whatever personal to me. She simply said she didn’t want to wed.’ A calculating smile spread across the fleshy face. ‘Many new brides doubtless feel the same – it can be seen as a tribute to their delicacy. Of course Pompeia made a public scene, but she is young and had clearly just sustained a dreadful shock, so – if you are right about her father’s death – that might be forgiven, if the dowry’s right. Naturally she’d never find another suitor after this, so the family – or whoever was named as guardian – would almost certainly agree that I should have her as arranged. Of course the new wedding would have to be a small affair, and probably not in Glevum, though I could accept that.’ He seemed to be talking chiefly to himself, but now he turned to me. ‘A hundred sesterces if you prove the case.’
    I gazed at him. I did not like the man, but a hundred sesterces is a handsome sum.
    He saw me havering. ‘Come, citizen! You cannot harm Pompeia – if that’s what worries you – any further than she has harmed herself. In fact, you might save her from a dreadful fate. The punishment for parricide is always particularly severe. Harsh exile at the very least – or worse. Honorius himself was calling for reintroduction of the sack – the courts might be minded to use it in this case. You know that its use has never been repealed.’
    He was right of course. I nodded doubtfully. ‘I would be glad on my own account to discover who killed Honorius,’ I said. ‘Helena Domna thinks that it was me.’
    ‘Then it is agreed.’ He gestured towards the owner of the drum. ‘Come, Linneus, I want you to witness this event. I promise to pay this citizen a hundred sesterces on condition that he finds the person who killed Honorius, and proves that it was not the maiden Pompeia, and here I pay him one brass as as a pledge.’ He seized my hand and pressed a coin into it.
    ‘Do you accept this?’ Linneus asked me, and I murmured that I did. ‘Then I witness that this contract is binding under law. And here is Helena Domna coming this way now. Gracchus can tell her the arrangement you have reached. So if you will excuse me . . .’ He took his drum from Minimus and bowed himself away.

Six
    Helena Domna had reached us by this time. ‘Gracchus.’ She greeted the bridegroom anxiously at once, giving him no time to say anything at all and paying no attention whatsoever to myself or to my slave. ‘This is most unfortunate. After such careful plans between the families. First Honorius is taken ill and dies, and then Pompeia makes that appalling scene – I don’t know what you must think of her. Naturally, we’ll have to release you from the betrothal after this.’
    Gracchus gave her an ingratiating smile. ‘It may not be necessary to revoke the vows. This citizen has convinced me that the girl is not to blame. I would be willing to take her, if he can prove as much.’
    She spun around to me. ‘And what do you know about it? The girl is clearly crazed, just as her sister was – what else explains the way she just behaved?’
    Gracchus looked alarmed. ‘You think it’s in the blood? In that case, madam, perhaps—’
    Helena Domna realized what her words had done and hastened to recant. ‘I don’t mean the kind of madness that runs in the family. It’s my opinion the two girls brought it on themselves, when they were giggling in their quarters, as they used to do. No doubt looking at the moon through glass – or some other childish game of dare – and failing to wear the proper charms as antidote. Nothing that can’t