Oracle of the Dead(73)

So that was two tasks accomplished. I dictated a few letters to some people: to Belasus in Pompeii, asking him to come to my court and bring the letters and evidence we had found in the house of Elagabal the fence; and to Pompey, asking him to attend. I even gritted my teeth and sent one to Cato. Much as I disliked him, he had that horrible honesty. I was going to have to do things that might exceed my authority as praetor peregrinus, and I wanted someone I could trust to testify that I had done these things for good reasons, not because I was corrupt or tyrannical. My enemies in Rome would lying in wait for me as soon as I should step down from office and would charge me for what I did here. Cato was not afraid of them or of anybody else, and he would not lie about what he had witnessed.

When I had dispatched my messengers to their various destinations, I sat back, at loose ends for a little while. Things had been so hectic lately that this felt good. Then I got up and wandered out into the temple enclosure and thought, What were you up to, Eugaeon? Why were you murdered, along with your fellow priests? Were you just the last victims of this gang of murderers, or were you one of them?

These gloomy but important thoughts occupied me for a while, while I enjoyed my solitude. Not that I was perfectly alone. Several of my men hung off at a discreet distance, armed and bearing shields. Then there came a voice from behind me.

“Praetor, why aren’t you with your suite? You shouldn’t be wandering about alone out here in the dark.” I turned to see that it was Sabinilla.

“Why, what brings you here? I thought you’d be plotting your next party, the one that’s going to top even the one you gave for us.”

“Oh, never fear, I’m putting together another. Word reached me that something has been happening here today and I yield to no one in my mastery of local gossip. I had to come see what was happening. I rejoice to see you are fully recovered from your wound. You are fully recovered, aren’t you?”

“I am touched by your concern. Yes, I am as good as new, strength restored; the wound no longer even pains me.” This was not quite true but it was beneath my dignity as a praetor to admit to pain from minor causes.

We walked back toward the terraces of the temple, where torches were ablaze. I saw that her wig was blue this time. Odd-colored wigs were just coming into fashion, and I didn’t doubt she had one for every day of the year.

She stopped and turned to me. “Praetor, I—”

In that instant I heard a sound I had become all too familiar with. It was the whiz of an arrow, like the sound of a fast-moving insect. It went right past my ear and suddenly Sabinilla was standing there with an astonished expression, trying to say something, but nothing came from her mouth but a great gush of blood.

I wasted not an instant gaping. I hit the ground rolling, and the second arrow whizzed through the air where I had been standing and buried itself in Sabinilla, halfway between navel and sternum. It would have gone into my spine if I hadn’t dived when I did. She was still upright, now trying to pull out the arrow that had gone through her throat. An arrow will not drop a person instantly to the ground the way a javelin or spear will. They don’t have enough force. They pierce organs and cut blood vessels. I kept moving, and Sabinilla finally fell, as if she had just learned that she was dead.

I was shouting without being aware of it. My men were running toward me and I was still rolling, changing speed and direction constantly to keep from being an easy target. I had lost all interest in dignity. I was not going to catch another arrow if I could help it. In moments my men were all around me, shields up. I heard a final arrow glance from a shield, then quiet.

“Bring torches over here!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as I got to my feet. “Bring lots of them! I want you to fan out and find that archer. Bring him to me, alive if possible, but don’t let him get away under any circumstances!” I am afraid that I lost my temper. Ordinarily I let little disturb me, but this was just too much. I railed at my men even as they went to search for the assassin.

“What is wrong with you?” I shouted at them. “Is it so difficult to keep a murderer armed with a bow away from here? Do all of my guests have to be killed before you bestir yourselves enough to notice that there is a man with a bow somewhere on the premises?”

Julia came running. “Come away from here now!” she ordered. “You’re lit up like a statue at Saturnalia and the bowman is out there in the dark somewhere. Come inside immediately. Hermes has already taken charge of the search.”

“But Sabinilla—” I began, gesturing toward the recumbent, bloody figure on the grass.