"You were saying that Cassandra went to the house of Cytheris…"

"Exactly! Now what sort of coincidence could that be? Immediately after seeing Antony's wife, Cassandra pays a visit to Antony's mistress. Or should I say, 'reports' to Antony's mistress."

"Perhaps she was calling on someone else in Cytheris's household."

"No. My man managed to climb onto the roof of the neighboring house, where he could see down into Cytheris's garden. He'd done that before as well, keeping an eye on Antony for me. He saw Cytheris greet Cassandra as if they were old friends. Then they sat and shared wine together and talked for a long time."

"About what?"

"My man wasn't able to hear. They were too far away and kept their voices low. But he heard them laugh occasionally-at me, I have no doubt! Well, I'd sent the bitch away without paying her a sesterce, and I'd told her nothing she could use to embarrass me, so I'm afraid I spoiled whatever scheme those two were hatching against me."

"You think Cassandra was somehow in league with Cytheris?"

"Of course! Don't you see? They're both actresses! That must be how they know each other. They probably met while performing together in some wretched mime show somewhere between here and Alexandria. Ambitious little ferrets! Cytheris managed to get herself nicely set up, thanks to Volumnius and my husband. Meanwhile, Cassandra got herself invited into the best homes in Rome by putting on a mime show of her own, pretending to utter prophecies while falling under some god's spell, all the while working who knows what sort of mischief. Whoever killed her did the decent people of Rome a great favor. That's why I went to her funeral-to see her burn! If only someone would do the same to that accursed Cytheris so that I could have the pleasure of watching the flames devour her carcass!"

In a burst of fury, she threw her cup across the garden. A hapless peacock shrieked and skittered away.

"I understand why you despise Cytheris," I said. "But what did Cassandra do to make you hate her so? What was the prophecy she spoke to you?"

Antonia glared at me. "For the last time, it wasn't a prophecy; it was a performance. But if you must know-very well, I'll tell you. For quite a while she rolled her eyes and jerked and muttered a lot of unintelligible noises. Then, gradually, I could make out words. Oh, Cassandra was very good! She made you listen hard to hear her, all the better to convince you that it must be something very special she was uttering. She said…"

Antonia stared into space and hesitated so long that I thought she had decided not to tell me. Finally she cleared her throat and went on. "She said she saw a lion and a lioness and their young cub dwelling in a cave. There was a terrible storm raging, but inside the cave all was warm and dry and safe. Eventually, despite the storm, the lion went off to forage. He found a gazelle, such a beautiful, graceful creature that, instead of attacking the gazelle, he mated with it. To get back at him, the lioness invited another lion into her cave and mated with him. But that lion already had a mate, and he soon left her. And her original mate was so happy gamboling about the countryside with his gazelle that he never returned. So in the end, the lioness was left alone… forever. Except for her cub, of course…"

At that moment the screaming young girl reappeared, dressed in a tunica now, but in the same bad humor. She ran across the garden to her mother, let out an ear-piercing scream, and threw her hands around Antonia's waist. Antonia tensed every muscle. Such a look of mingled fury and despair crossed her face that for a moment I feared she might strike the child. Instead, she took a deep breath and put her arms around the little girl, squeezing so tightly that the child struggled to pull free and finally did so, running back the way she had come, scattering peacocks in her wake and streaking past the overwhelmed nurse in the doorway.

Antonia stared after the child. Her face hardened. "As long as she was making it all up, why tell me things to confirm my own worst fears? Why not make up lies to please me? For a happy vision of the future, I might have given her a few coins and sent her on her way and forgotten all about her. No, she put on that little performance deliberately to torment me, and afterward she went running to her friend Cytheris, and the two of them had a good laugh at my expense. I'm glad she's dead! If someone else hadn't done it, I might have murdered her myself."

IX

The fourth time I saw Cassandra was on the day Marcus Caelius made his boldest-and last-appearance in the Forum.

Obedient to Bethesda's wishes-and leery myself of the violence that had been erupting-I avoided going to the Forum for almost a month following the riot that broke out after the consul Isauricus broke Caelius's chair of state. I whiled away the month of Aprilis in my garden, worrying over the ever-increasing debts I owed to Volumnius the banker, unable to see a way to continue feeding my family without going even further into debt.

All my life I had avoided becoming a debtor. I had even managed to accumulate a modest amount of savings, which I had deposited for security with Volumnius. He was a banker with an excellent reputation, trusted by everyone from Cicero to Caesar. But with the war had come shortages, and with shortages had come outlandish prices, even for the most basic staples of life. I had seen the savings of a lifetime devoured by butchers and bakers in a matter of months. Volumnius-or rather his agents, for I never dealt with the man directly-saw my deposits dwindle to nothing, then offered to extend credit. What could I do but accept? I fell into the trap and learned what every debtor knows: a debt is like a baby, for it begins small but rapidly grows, and the bigger it gets, the louder it cries out to be fed.

Brooding in my garden, I reluctantly admitted to myself that I missed the jabbering of the chin-waggers down in the Forum. Opinionated old fools they might be, but at least their complaints took my mind off my own problems; and every now and then one of them actually said something intelligent. I missed reading the Daily Acts posted in the Forum, with the latest news of Caesar's movements, even if I knew that nothing in such notices was to be entirely trusted since they were dictated by the consul Isauricus. To be sure, Davus and Hieronymus still made forays down to the Forum and always bought back the latest gossip, but there was something stale and unnourishing about such third-hand information. I was a Roman citizen, and the public life of the Forum was part of the very fabric of my existence.

One afternoon I could no longer stand my idleness and isolation. Bethesda, Diana, and Davus had gone to the markets to spend my latest loan from Volumnius. Hieronymus was in my study perusing a very old volume of The Punic War by Naevius that Cicero had given me as a gift many years ago; it was the most valuable scroll I owned, and so far I had resisted selling it, since I couldn't hope to get anything approaching its true value. Bored and restless, on a whim I did something I had not done in a very long time. I left my house unaccompanied, taking not even Mopsus or Androcles with me.

Later I would question my motive for leaving the house alone that day. Did I not know, in some corner of my mind, exactly where my feet were taking me when I set out? I decided to avoid the Forum, so I crossed the Palatine Hill and descended on the east side, wandering past the Senian Baths, wending my way through increasingly narrower streets as I entered the neighborhood of the Subura.

If someone had asked me where I was headed, I couldn't have said. I was simply out for a walk, enjoying the weather, trying for a while to forget my troubles. Yet every step brought me closer. It was the barking of the Molossian mastiff chained beside the front door that startled me to my senses. I stopped and stared dumbly at the beast, then confronted the red-washed facade of the shabby tenement where Cassandra lived.