The Temple of the Muses(71)

“I begin to see what Julia finds attractive in you, Decius Caecilius,” she said by way of preamble.

“That I get locked up in dungeons and put on trial for my life?” I said.

She sat in a spindly Egyptian chair. “What is it like to be chained naked to a wall? Is it exciting?”

“If you wish,” I said, “I can call in the Binder and the Whipper. They can take you to the cellar and chain you up nicely. Any special services you’d like to request first?”

“Oh, it’s such a bore when it’s voluntary.”

“Fausta, surely you didn’t come here to discuss your singular tastes in entertainment?”

“No, I came to bring you this.” She held out a folded papyrus. “It’s from Julia. Are you going to do something foolish?”

“At the first opportunity.” I took the papyrus from her and opened it. “Why didn’t Julia bring it herself?”

“Berenice insisted that Julia help her choose a gown for the banquet tonight. She owns several hundred, so don’t expect to see Julia any time soon. Julia said she was very pleased with the way you looked without your clothes.”

“She has excellent taste.” I read the note. The house where Hypatia Lived is on the Street of the Carpenters, opposite the eastern end of the theater. It has a red front and the doorposts are carved with acanthus leaves. Don’t do anything foolish.

“You read this?” I said.

“Of course I read it. I’m no slave messenger. Why do you need to know where that poor woman’s house is?”

“My reasons are sufficient to me. Why are you so curious?”

“If you are so hated by so many powerful men, there must be more to you than I thought.”

“How good it is to enter your charmed circle. Yes, I, too, am the coveted target of assassins.”

“I think that always makes a man more interesting and exciting. But not poor Julia. She actually worries about you.” To my relief, Fausta rose. “I must go now, Decius. I think, should you live, you might turn out to be an interesting man.” And so she left.

Rufus came by to tell me that Creticus was making inquiries about ships leaving for Rome. Failing Rome, for anywhere at all. I clearly had little time to settle matters in Alexandria. Fortunately, Creticus hadn’t set armed guards over me. This might have been because the embassy had no armed guards. There were always the Whipper and the Binder, but now that I was no longer charged with murder, it would have been unfitting to set slaves over me.

So when it was fully dark and everyone had retired, I just put on my cloak and walked out.

Once again, I was on the streets of Alexandria at night. The theater was one of the landmarks of the city, and I made for it. The theaters of Greece were cut into hillsides, taking advantage of natural terrain features. Since Alexandria was flat, the theater of Alexandria was a free-standing building, much like the one Pompey was even then building on the Campus Martius in Rome. It was visible from a long distance, and I could see it almost as soon as I left the Palace enclosure.

The theater in Alexandria was the great resort of prostitutes, as was and is the Circus Maximus in Rome. There is something about dark archways that is conducive to their trade. There were practitioners of both of the usual sexes, and some who seemed to be a combination of both.

I made a show of strolling about, examining the wares to be had, making comparisons of appearance, price and specialty (I truly was not interested), all the while keeping an eye on the red-fronted house with the carved doorposts. In the torchlight it was actually possible to distinguish color. I had to assume that the leaves adorning the doorposts were of the acanthus. I wouldn’t know acanthus from poplar. A person of enormous, liquid-brown eyes and indeterminate gender noticed my preoccupation and sidled over to me.

“You can’t afford that one,” she said (I use “she” for lack of an adequate pronoun).

“How do you know?” I asked.

“She is kept by some very rich men. They keep her well, and I doubt that they would like it if she were to spread herself too thin.”

“Men?” I said. “She is kept by more than one?”

“Oh, yes. At least three who go there in turn; sometimes all three are in there at once. She must have some sophisticated tricks to keep all three amused at once.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Why are you so curious about her?” she said suspiciously.

I almost told her about the murder, but she would clam up if she thought she might be hauled in for an investigation.

“I have reason to believe she’s a slave who ran away from her master in Syracuse.”