Crassus glared at me and took a deep breath, but did not speak.

'I also hear that Spartacus has forbidden the use of money among his men. They're a nation without currency. The necessities of life they take from the land and the people on it, but they have no use for luxuries. Everything is shared. Spartacus believes that money will only corrupt his warriors. To what better use could he put all the pretty coins and trinkets he's accumulated than to smuggle them outside his zone of influence in return for things that he and his warriors truly need – things like swords, shields, helmets, and spears?'

Crassus considered for a long moment. 'But it couldn't have been Lucius who dumped these things off the pier,' he objected. 'You've just told me that you heard them being dropped into the water on the night you arrived. You said that whoever was doing it then attacked and tried to drown you. It certainly wasn't Lucius, unless you believe that his shade was stalking you on the pier that night.'

'No, not his shade. But perhaps his partner.'

'A partner? In such a disgusting enterprise?'

'Perhaps not. Perhaps Lucius was innocent of the affair, and the whole business was being conducted right under his nose, without his knowledge. Perhaps he found out and that's why he was killed.'

'My cousin's nose cast a considerable shadow, but not long enough to hide a business like this. And why do you insist on linking this discovery to his death? You know as well as I that he was murdered by those escaped slaves, Zeno and Alexandros.'

'Do you honestly believe that, Marcus Crassus? Did you ever believe it? Or is it simply so convenient to your own schemes that you refuse to see any other possibility?' The words came out in a rush, louder and harsher than I intended. Crassus drew back. The door opened and the guard looked inside. I stepped back from Crassus, biting my tongue.

Crassus dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand. He crossed his arms and paced the room. At length he stopped before one of the shelves and stared at a stack of scrolls.

'There are more than a few documents missing from Lucius's record,' he said in a slow, cautious voice. 'The log which should account for all the trips taken by the Fury this summer, the inventories of her cargo

'Then summon the ship's captain, or one of her crew.'

'Lucius dismissed the captain, and the crew, only a few days before I arrived. Why do you think I manned the vessel with Mummius and my own men to fetch you? I've sent messengers to look for the captain in Puteoli and Neapolis, but without success. Even so, there's evidence that Lucius sent the vessel on a number of trips which are not accounted for.'

'What other documents are missing?'

'Records to account for all sorts of expenses. Without knowing what was here before, it's impossible to know what's missing now.'

'Then what I say is possible, isn't it? Lucius Licinius could have been transacting clandestine business without your knowledge. Treasonable business.'

Crassus was silent for a long moment. 'Yes.'

'And someone knows of this besides ourselves, because someone was trying to conceal the evidence by hiding the weapons and booty underwater, just as someone cleaned the blood from the statue that killed Lucius – the same person who must have pilfered the incriminating records. Isn't it far more likely that this person was responsible for Lucius's death, rather than two harmless slaves who suddenly decided to run off and join Spartacus?'

'Prove it!' said Crassus, turning his back to me.

'And if I can't?'

'You still have a day and a night in which to do your work.' 'What if I fail?'

'Justice will be done. Retribution will be swift and terrible. I announced my pledge at the funeral, and I intend to fulfil it.'

'But, Marcus Crassus, the death of ninety-nine innocent slaves, to no purpose-'

'Everything I do,' he said slowly, emphasizing each word, 'has a purpose.'

'Yes. I know.' I bowed my head in defeat. I tried to think of some final argument. Crassus walked to one of the windows and gazed out at the funeral guests who milled about in the courtyard.

'The little slave boy – Meto, you call him – is running about, announcing to the guests that the banquet is about to begin,' he said quietly. 'It's time to trade our black garments for white. You'll excuse me while I go to my room and change, Gordianus.'

'One last word, Marcus Crassus. If it comes to the crisis -if what you have determined comes to pass – I ask that you consider the honesty of the slave Apollonius. He might have kept his discovery of the silver a secret-'

'Why, when he's scheduled to die tomorrow? The silver is of no value to him.'

'Still, if you could see your way to pardon him, and perhaps the boy Meto-'

'Neither of these slaves has done anything of extraordinary merit.'

'But if you could show mercy-'

'Rome is in no mood for mercy. I think you will leave me now, Gordianus.' While I left the room he stood stock-still, his arms crossed, his shoulders stiff, staring through the window at nothing. Just before I stepped through the door, I saw him turn and gaze at the little pile of silver coins I had left on the table. His eye glimmered and I watched the comer of his mouth quiver and bend into what might have been a smile.

The atrium was once again crowded with guests, some still in black, some already changed into white for the banquet. I made my way through the crush, ascended the steps, and walked towards my room.

The little hallway was deserted and quiet. The door to my room was slightly ajar. As I drew close I heard strange noises from within. I paused, trying to make sense of them. It might have been the sound of a small animal in pain, or the nonsensical babbling of an idiot with his tongue cut out. My first thought was that Iaia had committed some further sorcery in my room, and I approached cautiously.

I looked through the narrow opening and saw Eco seated before the mirror, contorting his face and emitting a series of uncouth noises. He stopped, scrutinized himself in the mirror, and tried again.

He was trying to speak.

I drew back. I took a deep breath. I walked halfway up the hall, then banged my elbow against the wall, to make a noise so that he would hear. I walked back to the room.

I found Eco inside, no longer before the mirror but sitting stiffly on his bed. He looked up at me as I stepped inside and smiled crookedly, then frowned and quickly looked out of the window. I saw him swallow and reach up to touch his throat, as if it hurt.

'Did Crassus's guards come to take your place at the boat-house?' I said.

He nodded.

'Good. Look, here on my bed, our white garments for the banquet, neatly laid out for us. It should be a sumptuous feast.'

Eco nodded. He looked out the window again. His eyes were hot and shiny. He bit his lip, blinked, and drew in a shallow breath. Something glistened wetly on his cheek, but he quickly brushed it away.