The Curse-Maker (13 page)

The heavy curtain was covered with an additional layer of strung blue, purple, and green beads, completing the exotic allure. It was suddenly thrown aside. I stumbled on one of the couches, nearly falling. Sulpicia stood in the doorway, one hand bracing herself against the frame, the other on her hip, a knowing smile on her face.

“Welcome, Arcturus. I was hoping you'd … find me.”

She sauntered into the room. It took her about half an hour to lower herself on to one of the couches. Then she clapped her hands for a servant and turned to me with more than an invitation. It was an outright demand.

“Any—preferences? Falernian, perhaps? Oscan? Maybe some … Greek?”

I looked down and found my feet on the floor. They were trying to point to the exit.

“No—no, anything will do, Sulpicia, thank you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Certainly not anything. One must be—particular—mustn't one? Do sit down, Arcturus, you're making me nervous just standing there, like a particularly strong specimen of—oak.”

I moved to the opposite couch and perched on the edge, making myself as uncomfortable as possible. Sulpicia eyed me for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“Oh, really, now, Doctor, you mustn't be so frightened. I don't bite—at least, not unless you want me to.”

Another servant—this one young and handsome—brought in the wine.

“Thank you, Gaius, that will be all. Please tell Numa to keep playing.” She turned to me. “I find the lute so relaxing—don't you? And they say relaxation and leisure are the ideal things in life, don't they?”

I gulped the wine. I knew it would be good, much better than anyone else's in Aquae Sulis. Sulpicia sipped hers, long nails delicately wrapped around the silver cup, her eyes making promises I was afraid she'd try to keep.

She set the wine cup down with an air of decision and rose to her feet. Her body was outlined in a diaphanous sheath, and she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. She made sure I noticed. It was hard not to.

The smile never left her face, but widened as she approached. Finally, she sat down. The heat from her body wrapped itself around me like an ivy tendril, and I shifted a few inches away.

“Come now, Arcturus. You're a hard—hardworking, I should say—man … you're also a man of the world. You've seen something of it, the palaces of Rome, the granaries and temples of Egypt. Let's be … adults, shall we?”

She was curving herself closer, her smell overwhelming me, as the lute music echoed in my head and started to make me dizzy. I leaned as far back as I could without actually lying down. That might be fatal.

“Aquae Sulis is a place for relaxation. A temple for the soul … and the body. I think you should relax, Doctor … and think about … think about healing yourself.”

Her lips parted to reveal a small tongue, which darted over them before hiding itself, but promised to come out again if I blinked my eyes. She was leaning in, her breasts brushing my tunic, and I thought I could feel her hands start to travel up my legs. She was almost in my lap, and I thought about Gwyna, and this morning, and I jumped off the couch.

Sulpicia fell over, unprepared for the hasty exit. She glared up at me and suddenly looked a lot older.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing—now. I didn't come here for an easy lay, Sulpicia. That would be young Drusius, not the old doctor.”

She flushed, angry, flounced back over to her couch and her cup, and threw back a shot of wine like a professional. She glared at me some more. When I met her eyes and held them, the anger started to fade. After another shot, she was able to smile, albeit a little vindictively.

“Did Drusius tell you? Maybe he mentioned how good it feels when I—”

“No. He's a stonecutter, but he's a gentleman.”

She snorted. “I don't need a gentleman. Too many goddamn ‘gentlemen' in this town as it is.”

“You mean like Vitellius?”

“Vitellius makes himself look too much like a hairless worm. I prefer men with some—hair—on their bodies.”

I felt like I was the one in the transparent sheath.

“Oh, dear. You really blush like a virgin, don't you?” Her laugh was deep and throaty. I cleared my own throat and tried not to look too much like a boy on his first trip to the whorehouse.

“No. Vitellius is all right. He keeps himself busy, but when he's mine, he's mine. And he … does things for me … he's very good at it.”

She smiled lazily, like a cat about to pounce. “You should try it sometime on your wife. It might make her feel better. Poor thing. How long has it been?”

She caught the shock in my face and raised her eyebrows. “What? You mean—you don't know? You? The
medicus
of all Britannia?”

She started laughing, and it was a sad sound, even with the cruelty in it. I sank back down on the couch and wondered what the hell was wrong with my wife and why everyone knew about it except me. Sulpicia's laugh trailed off, and she stared at me for a few minutes. When she spoke, her voice was unexpectedly gentle.

“I won't tell you if she hasn't. Her secret—such as it is—is safe with me. Talk to your wife, Arcturus. And—well—depending on the outcome—the offer … still stands.”

She got brusque, as if the seduction scene were over, and too much emotion would spoil the act. “So why did you come? Curiosity? Or was it a preview?”

I leaned forward. “Who's blackmailing you, Sulpicia?”

The wine cup dropped on the floor with a clang, spilling yellow fluid over the Gallic rug. Sulpicia's hand crept up to her throat. Her eyes were enormous and her tall, lean body rigid.

“What—what are you talk—”

A middle-aged woman of undoubted but fading charms, frightened for her life. She didn't bat a single one of her thick black eyelashes over Bibax's body, and here she was trembling beneath the thin sheath.

“Sulpicia—listen. I know you're being blackmailed. I think Bibax's murder was connected with other things in Aquae Sulis, foul things. As foul as—maybe even fouler than—putting a curse on your husband, and … having it come true?”

“I—I didn't know—I wasn't sure—”

“What you did or didn't know is between you and Nemesis. It's true, isn't it—you're being blackmailed.”

She nodded, her face whiter than her makeup.

“And Bibax—Bibax's curses—they sometimes came true, didn't they? For a price?”

She nodded again, her eyes flickering around the room.

“Who's the blackmailer, Sulpicia? Who?”

I gripped her face by the chin and turned her head to look at me. She was still terrified, and I couldn't just slap her. My only other choice was to kiss her. So I slapped her lightly.

She put her fingers to her cheek, looking at me in surprise. “I—I don't know. I get notes—where to go, how much to leave. I'm almost—almost out of money.”

“Is is always at the spring? Or the baths?”

“N-no. Sometimes I leave things in the cubicles, with no one to watch them. Sometimes it's the spring. Once it was under the statue outside my door.”

“Do you have any of the notes?”

She shook her head. “I burn them. They say to burn them, and I'm afraid—”

“You're afraid if you disobey, you'll be next.” I got up to go to my own seat. “You never struck me as a superstitious sort.”

“You—you don't know. They—whoever it is—they have some kind of power. They'll kill me, if they know I've talked.”

I thought about it for a minute. It would be hard to explain to my wife, but it could work.

“Listen—when you get the next note—how often do they come?”

“About once a month.”

I grimaced. I hoped to be out of Aquae Sulis long before a month.

“If you get any communication from them at all, let me know. I'll come over immediately.”

“But if someone sees you—”

This was the difficult part.

“Tell them we're having an affair.”

The farce of it all overwhelmed her fear long enough for laughter. She laughed for long minutes, drawing out each breath and shaking with it. Finally, they subsided, and she looked at me with half a smile.

“But you don't want my body. You want my information.”

I grinned back at her.

“No offense. Your body is quite nice—and I've seen a lot of them. But my wife…”

She sighed. “She is a beautiful woman. And you love her. I hope she realizes how lucky she is. I've always wanted a man who loved me—not just who loved loving me.”

I let myself feel gratified while she watched me with a wistful expression. But hope died hard in Sulpicia, and she got up from the couch with a gleam in her eyes. Suddenly I heard lute music again.

“I'd better go. I have an appointment at the baths.”

She was getting uncomfortably close standing there and was somehow looking much younger than a few minutes ago. Her voice was a purr.

“I'll send you a message the second I know anything. And I'll tell you … whatever it is … you want to know.”

I backed out of the room. “We'll have to talk again. Maybe tomorrow.”

She leaned into me suddenly, and with such force that I had to hold her to keep her upright.

“Anytime, Arcturus. And remember what I said … the offer.”

Her pelvis was slowly gyrating against mine. She put her lips to my ear to whisper, and I felt a nibble.

“I'm still fertile. I could give you anything. Anything, Arcturus. I know … all kinds of things … that can help you … relax.”

I fled the house, my ears full of sandalwood and lute music in my nose.

*   *   *

Ligur was waiting for me. I hoped Sulis's miracle water would get the smell of sandalwood out of my hair. I was undressing when I felt a small pluck at my elbow. Aeron.

“Sir—you told me to tell you—”

“Yes?” I said encouragingly.

“There's a man been here to see you. A priest.”

Calpurnius. “Where did he go?”

“He was asking around to see if anyone saw you come in. I knew he was talking about you from what he said. He went inside—the Great Bath.”

I tipped the boy and walked through the arch. Everyone was already there—I'd missed the fashionable hour again. Grattius splashing on one end, Vitellius stretched out on the pavement near Papirius, Philo leaning against a side of the pool with his eyes closed. Gaius Secundus was on the opposite end from Grattius, with Big Belly and Fish Eye, the two men I'd seen when I first arrived, and a competing gaggle of others I didn't know.

I saw the
gemmarius
and Buteo among a less moneyed group, in an overcrowded part of the pool farthest away from the pipe that fed the water. No Calpurnius.

I was hoping to escape notice, but Octavio appeared out of nowhere.

“Arcturus! So glad to see you again!”

He could've been heard over Hannibal's elephants. The poet trying to sing Apollonius looked over at us in irritation, and Grattius bellowed out to me.

“Arcturus! C'mere, my boy, c'mere!”

Octavio escorted me over; Secundus looked around, saw me, and decided to join us. Two
duovirs
at the same time. You're such a lucky bastard, Arcturus.

“Arcturus—Grattius. We've got to set that census date, Grattius, next session. No gettin' around it, this time.”

Grattius climbed out of the water, looking like a pimple that needed to pop. “No talking shop, Secundus. You know my baths are sacred.”

The other
duovir
grunted. “Bring your mare tonight, Arcturus. My stallion can cover her. She sounded like she was in heat.” He nodded at me and Philo, who'd sidled up, before returning to his own territory.

Grattius looked after him with dislike. “You're having dinner with Secundus? Poor boy. You should stop by my house first so you can eat decently. Secundus thinks everyone should eat like horses. Probably shits in pellets, just like his stallion.”

He guffawed, and a hammy hand slapped his freckled, quivering thigh, leaving a pink suffusion that slowly spread through the white.

“Arcturus—can I speak to you?”

Philo sniffed the air suddenly, and I wondered if I still smelled like Sulpicia. He took me by the arm and led me to the west end, in an alcove near Vitellius and away from Grattius. I could find everyone I didn't want to see, but no Calpurnius. Where the hell was he?

I was impatient. “What is it?”

Philo studied me for a moment. “It's your wife.”

My eyes narrowed. “What about her, Philo?”

“She came to see me this afternoon. She asked me not to tell you.”

“She did? But what—why—”

He shook his head. “She's worried, Arcturus. Overly interested in this Bibax problem, and the Aquae Sulis gossip. It's not good for her—especially in her condition.”

I tried to keep from exploding and to look like I knew what he was talking about. “What do you suggest, Philo? I chain her to the kitchen stove?”

He smiled and infuriatingly patted me on the back. “Every woman likes excitement, and she's a woman of tremendous spirit. She told me what you've been doing—how you think you've stumbled on a series of murders, possibly connected to Bibax. It sounds fantastic, but I've seen enough of the world to expect the unexpected. I'll help in any way I can.”

He looked into my eyes with intensity. “If it's true, she could be in danger. If it's not true, the excitement could overstimulate her. I would just—watch her. But there—I'm giving advice that isn't wanted to a better doctor—and a husband, besides.”

“Thanks for the concern.”

He shrugged. “Not at all. I care about your wife. And you. I'm sure you find that hard to believe, but I do care. The welfare of everyone in Aquae Sulis—visitor or resident—is important to me.”