She looked up from the pond. The sunlight reflected from the surface of the water had a flattering effect; I caught a glimpse of Clodia as she had appeared when I had first met her years ago, when her beauty had been at the very end of its bloom.

"Another visit, so soon?" she said. "For years you forget me, then you come calling at my horti, and now at my house. So much attention is likely to spoil me, Gordianus." She seemed to produce this banter by rote; her voice had the proper lilt, but there was no spark in her eyes.

"You've heard the news?" I said.

"Of course. Rome has been saved once again, and all good Romans must assemble in the Forum to shout, 'Hurrah!' The Senate will pass a resolution to congratulate the consul. The consul will issue a proclamation to congratulate the Senate. The commander of the garrison at Compsa will receive a promotion. The soldiers at Thurii-" Abruptly she stopped. She gazed down at the hungry fish, who crowded together and gazed back at her.

"For months you've been seeing Marcus Caelius," I said, "ever since he came back from Spain with Caesar. All spring and summer, while he was stirring up trouble in the Forum, he was also coming here to your house."

"How do you know that, Gordianus?"

"Calpurnia told me. She has spies all over the city."

"Does she think I was in league with Caelius?"

"Were you?"

Clodia's face drew taut. The flattering moment passed; she looked her age. "For people like Calpurnia, the world must seem such a simple place. Others are in league or not in league; allies or enemies; to be trusted or not. She has the mind of a man. She might as well not be a woman."

"Curious," I said.

"What?"

"Calpurnia has an equally low opinion of you, but for opposite reasons. She says you're driven by whims and emotions. She says you're weak and have no control."

Clodia laughed without mirth. "We'll see how long a woman like Calpurnia can hold Caesar's interest, if and when he makes himself master of the world. Can you imagine making love to such a block of wood?"

"You've changed the subject. Were you in league with Caelius?"

"In league with him? No. In love with him…" Her voice broke. She shut her eyes. "Yes."

I shook my head. "I don't believe you. You were lovers once, but that was years ago. You prosecuted him for a murder. You did your best to destroy him, to have him driven out of Rome. Instead, he humiliated you in the court. He stood up for Milo after your brother was murdered. After all that, you can't possibly-"

"How would you know what I'm capable of, Gordianus?"

I felt a sudden, cold fury in my chest. "I'm afraid I may know exactly what you're capable of."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't think you fell in love with Caelius all over again. That would make you as flighty and foolish as Calpurnia paints you. And you're not a fool. You're hard and shrewd and endlessly calculating. I think you hated Marcus Caelius more than ever when he came back to Rome with Caesar. There he was, the man you despised most in the world, standing proudly at Caesar's side, rewarded with a magistracy, still a player in the great game despite all your efforts to destroy him-while you languished in obscurity, your fortune squandered, your reputation a joke, your beloved brother dead and gone. Vengeance must never be far from your thoughts. What else is there for you to think about now that everything that once brought you pleasure is gone, including your beauty?"

She stared at me blankly. "You needn't speak so cruelly, Gordianus."

"You dare to call me cruel when it was you who deliberately snared Marcus Caelius a second time in your net, all the while plotting how finally to destroy him? I said your beauty was gone, and it's true. But Caelius knew you when you still possessed it. He was under its spell once, and he never forgot. He remembered you as you were-as I remember you. You sought him out. You seduced him a second time; you managed to make him fall in love with you all over again. You made him trust you. And then what? How did you plant the seeds of discontent in his heart? Very subtly, I imagine, with a well-placed word here and there. You cast aspersions on Caesar-mild at first, then more and more caustic. You reminded him of the power of the Roman mob and the fact that no one since your brother had successfully harnessed their power. I can hear you: 'Caesar doesn't know your value, Marcus. He's wasting your talents! Why does he reward mediocrities like Trebonius above you? Because he's jealous of you, that's why! Because he secretly fears you! If only my dear brother were still alive. What an opportunity he could make of this situation! The people are miserable, they've lost their faith in Caesar, they despise him-all they need is a man who can harness their anger, a man with the gift of speech and the nerve to pit himself against the lapdogs Caesar has left in charge of the city. Such a man could make himself ruler of Rome!' "

Clodia stared at me, her eyes flashing, but she said nothing.

"Shall I go on? Very well. You encouraged him to make wilder and wilder promises to the mob, to bait his fellow magistrates, to insult the Senate, to speak words of sedition against Caesar himself. When he finally went too far and Isauricus tried to arrest him, how that must have delighted you! But Caelius slipped the net. He went into hiding. Then he made common cause with Milo-the convicted killer of your brother-and how that must have galled you! Meanwhile, you never ceased plotting Caelius's destruction. I think you were still in touch with him, still guiding him toward his ruin. Perhaps he balked, seeing the hopelessness of the prospect before him. Did you goad him on, telling him the gods were on his side? Did you cast aspersions on his manhood? Did you tell him only a coward would stop in midcourse? And when Milo-superstitious, omen-fearing Milo-sought out a seeress to show him the future, what did you do about that, Clodia?"

I waited for her to answer, wanting to hear the truth from her own lips, but she only continued to stare at me with a wild look in her eyes.

"Cassandra was Calpurnia's spy," I said. "Did you know that?"

She wrinkled her brow and spoke at last. "No. But I'm not surprised."

"Milo wanted to seek her out for a prophecy. Did you know that?"

"Yes."

"So you were still in touch with Caelius, even after he went into hiding?"

"Yes. After his escape from Isauricus, he came to this house a few times, always in disguise. False beards. False bosoms!" A smile crept over her lips, though she seemed to fight it. "He loved that sort of thing, going about in disguises. He was mad, completely mad, from the first day I knew him to the last. You might have thought he was taking part in some adolescent prank, not trying to bring down the state. He told me that he'd been in contact with Milo, and Milo was almost ready to join forces with him. 'I know how much you hate him,' he said to me, 'but it's the only way. Together we can pull it off!' There was only one catch. Milo had heard of what he called 'this half-mad seeress, this woman called Cassandra'-it was Fausta who told him about her-and he was determined first to hear what Cassandra had to say. Milo had latched onto the idea that Cassandra, and only Cassandra, could tell him the future. He was utterly convinced of it. He refused to take another step until he heard from Cassandra's own lips that the enterprise would succeed."

I shook my head. "But Cassandra had explicit instructions from Calpurnia to tell Milo no such thing. She was to predict only doom for the insurrection. She was to send Milo and Caelius scrambling to throw themselves on Caesar's mercy. From what you've just told me, if Cassandra had succeeded in carrying out Calpurnia's instructions, then Milo would never had ridden south with Caelius that day. Someone must have prevented her from delivering that prophecy, someone who wanted the insurrection to go ahead, knowing that it could end only in the destruction of both Milo and Caelius. And that was what you wanted above all else, wasn't it, Clodia?" I shook my head. "I understand your hatred for both of those men. I don't doubt that you wanted to see them humiliated and dead, their memories disgraced, their heads delivered to Calpurnia as trophies. But why did Cassandra have to die? Was there no other way?"