I looked up to see the glow reflected off Tiro's swarthy features. "Nothing is as fascinating as fire, don't you think?" he said, smiling faintly. "After the flames, nothing is left but a bit of ash, which crumbles to nothing if you touch it. Where does the flame come from? Where does the parchment go? No one knows. Now it will be as if the girl never copied those poems, and Numerius never heard her read them. Numerius might as well never have existed."

"But he did. And Aemilia loved him." Inside her a part of Numerius still existed, I thought, at least for a while. The baby, too, soon would be ashes.

Tiro made a scoffing noise. "She loved him? Perhaps. But did he love her?"

"He was determined to marry her, despite Pompey's wishes. Aemilia was certain of that."

"Was she? No doubt she imagined all sorts of things, lying on that bed with him after an hour of making love, gazing out the window at the temples on the Capitoline. No doubt he told her all sorts of lies- whatever he needed to tell her to keep her coming back to meet him here."

"A life spent with Cicero has made you a stodgy moralist, Tiro."

"Nonsense! But when I see a love nest like this, and I've seen just how young and tender the girl was, it's no mystery what sort of young man Numerius must have been. A perfect specimen of his generation- selfish, without morals, out to take whatever he can, with no thought to the consequences. If it weren't for his kinship to Pompey, he'd have been just the sort to join Caesar."

I looked at Tiro steadily. "You make him sound the sort of man that no one should regret killing."

Tiro gave me a sour look. "Don't mock me, Gordianus. And don't accuse me of murder, even in jest."

"I wasn't."

"I'm only saying that if Numerius really loved the girl, he'd have done the right thing and taken her for a wife, with or without the Great One's blessing, instead of taking her for a lover in a squalid hole like this."

"Tiro! Have you forgotten the love affair that you were carrying on behind Cicero's back when I first met you? You were a slave then, and she was the daughter of your master's client, and the consequences could have been terrible for both of you- not to mention for any child that might have resulted."

"Unfair, Gordianus! I was young and stupid-"

"And Numerius wasn't?"

Tiro stared at the ashes in the bowl.

" 'Every man likes to remember youthful indiscretions, but no man likes to be reminded of them.' " I said quietly.

"Ennius," said Tiro, recognizing the quotation. He managed a weak smile. "You're right. We're not here to pass judgment on Numerius. We're here to discover his secrets. Shall we work together, Gordianus, or not?"

"There are two knives," I said, holding up the one I had brought and offering him the one I had found in the trunk.

"I brought my own," he said, "but this one looks sharper." Together we set to cutting open the pillows and the mattress.

They contained at least one surprise. Instead of common straw or wool, they were stuffed with swan's down, mixed with enough dried herbs to faintly scent the whole room; I had been wondering where the smell came from. Numerius had not been one to stint himself of luxury when it came to lovemaking.

Each time we cut into a pillow, feathers came bursting out. Soon the room was adrift in white fluff. Bits of down floated in the air like snowflakes. The absurdity of it made us both laugh. The tension between us leaked away. Perhaps it would have been otherwise if we had found what we were seeking, but as we sifted and searched it quickly became evident that nothing was hidden among the stuffing.

"I've searched everywhere I can think of," I told Tiro. "Why don't you have a look yourself, starting with the trunk. Perhaps you'll notice something I've overlooked."

He carefully examined every item in the room, including the bedposts, searching for hollow chambers. Together we examined every floorboard, looking for one that might be loose. We ran our hands over the plastered walls and poked at the ceiling. We found nothing.

"If there ever were some documents regarding a plot to kill Caesar, they aren't here," said Tiro, sticking out his tongue to blow a bit of down from his upper lip.

"Nor were they hidden at Numerius's house. His mother told me she made a thorough search for just such material and found nothing."

"Yet Numerius told me he was 'sitting on something enormous'- something so dangerous it could get him killed."

"Which it did," I said, lowering my eyes.

Tiro walked about the room, stirring up eddies of swan's down. "So I'm no closer to finding what I was looking for, and you're no closer to discovering who murdered Numerius and getting your son-in-law back from Pompey. Listen, Gordianus- I'm leaving Rome tomorrow. Come with me."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Why not?" he said. "I'm sick of traveling alone."

"Surely you'll take a bodyguard for the road."

"Yes, one of those idiots at Cicero's house."

"The older one's brighter," I said. "Not quite as stupid, anyway."

"Fortex, you mean?"

"If that's his name."

"Fortex won't make much of a traveling companion. I could have better conversations with my horse. You're good company, Gordianus."

"You want me to go with you simply to keep you amused, Tiro? Someone has to look after my family."

"You've got that cyclops from Pompey at your front door, haven't you? And your son Eco can look in from time to time."

"Perhaps. Still, what reason have I to leave Rome?"

Tiro looked at me gravely. "You want to get your son-in-law back, don't you? There's not much time left for that, Gordianus. Pompey's withdrawn to Brundisium, with his back to the sea. Caesar is pursuing him. It can only be a matter of days now. If you have any intention of bringing Davus back to Rome…"

"I see your point. What about you, Tiro? Why are you leaving Rome?"

"I received a message from Cicero today. He wants me to stop at his villa in Formiae on my way and carry some letters to Pompey-"

"Formiae? Cicero is still down the coast?"

"Yes."

"But Pompey ordered all loyalist senators to rendezvous at Brundisium."

"Yes. Well…" Tiro's expression became guarded.

"Don't tell me Cicero is still vacillating! Is he waiting for the war to be over before he takes sides?"

"It's not like that, Gordianus; not as bad as you make it sound. Cicero sees himself as- how to put it?- uniquely positioned to play a special role. What other man of his eminence can still communicate with both sides?"

"Cicero is still in contact with Caesar?"

"Cicero and Caesar never stopped corresponding. Pompey knows that. Cicero hasn't misled him. Now that the crisis is entering a new stage, Cicero may be in a position to act as go-between, as peacemaker. In order to do that, he must maintain a delicate balance-"

"Nonsense! Cicero simply hasn't the nerve to throw his lot with Pompey. He detests Caesar, but he fears that Caesar may win, so he secretly cozies up to both sides. He's the worst sort of coward."

Tiro grimaced. "Who's being the stodgy moralist now, Gordianus? We all find ourselves in a situation not of our choosing. Every man has to steer his own course. It'll be a lucky man who comes out of this alive without a bit of tarnish on his conscience."

I had no answer for that.

He took a deep breath. "Well then, Gordianus, will you come with me to Brundisium or not?"