^{ROMAN BLOOD}

Steven Saylor

A Mystery of Ancient Rome

Part One HIGH AND LOW

Part Two PORTENTS

Part Three JUSTICE

Author's Note

Part One

^{High and Low}

The slave who came to fetch me on that unseasonably warm spring morning was a young man, hardly more than twenty.

Usually, when a client sends for me, the messenger is a slave from the very lowest rung of the household — a grub, a cripple, a half-wit boy from the stables stinking of dung and sneezing from the bits of straw in his hair. It's a kind of formality; when one seeks out the services of Gordianus the Finder, one keeps a certain distance and restraint. It's as if I were a leper, or the priest of some unclean Oriental cult. I'm used to it. I take no offence -so long as my accounts are paid on time and in full.

The slave who stood at my door on this particular morning, however, was very clean and meticulously groomed. He had a quiet manner that was respectful but far from grovelling - the politeness one expects from any young man addressing another man ten years his elder. His Latin was impeccable (better than mine), and the voice that delivered it was as beautifully modulated as a flute. No grub from the stables, then, but clearly the educated and pampered servant of a fond master. The slave's name was Tiro.

'Ofthe household of the most esteemed Marcus Tullius Cicero,' he added, pausing with a slight inclination of his head to see if I recognized the name. I did not. 'Come to seek your services,' he added, 'on the recommendation of—'

I took his arm, placed my forefinger over his lips, and led him into the house. Brutal winter had been followed by sweltering spring; despite the early hour, it was already far too hot to be standing in an open doorway. It was also far too early to be listening to this young slave's chatter, no matter how melodious his voice.My temples rolled with thunder. Spidery traces oflightning flashed and vanished just beyond the corners of my eyes.