Read Online A Body in the Bathhouse by Lindsey Davis - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsey Davis
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and wicker baskets had no connection with us. The two Camilli were quarreling with each other as they oversaw loading. They had still not decided who was coming on the trip, so both planned to sail to Gaul while they continued to wrangle over who must stay behind at Massilia.
“Massilia!” I grinned, still reminiscing. “I damn nearly went to bed with you there.”
Helena buried her face in my shoulder. I think she was giggling. Her breath tickled my neck. “I expect you will do, this time.”
“Be warned, lady.” I spoke in the tough voice I used to put on—the one I once supposed had fooled her, though she had seen through it after a week. “I’m planning to exorcize every memory of places where I let you stay chaste last time.”
“I look forward to that!” Helena retorted. “I hope you are fit.” She knew how to issue a challenge.
We stood in silence for a time. Wrapped in cloaks against the sea breeze, and closely wrapped up in each other. She must have looked like a tearful wife bidding farewell to an official who was off on a long overseas tour. I must have looked like some fellow who was bravely managing not to seem too keen on the freedom ahead.
There would be no farewells. Ours was a different kind of freedom. We had always enjoyed life on the wing together. We both knew the dangers. We thought about them, even there on the quayside when it was far too late. Perhaps I should have left Helena and the babes at home. But how many careful adventurers make that sensible choice, bum off, survive endless danger and hardship, then return to the Golden City only to find that all their treasures have been wiped out by marsh fever?
There was a virulent strain of marsh fever in Britain. Still, our destination was coastal. Beyond the Great King’s picturesque harbor outside his palace would lie windswept open water, not stagnant lakes and fens. Mind you, we had to cross two seas to get there; one was a terrifying stormy strait.
Helena and I thought that life was to be lived together. Private, domestic, and shared. Shared with our family: two children, one complaining nursemaid, one scruffy dog. Plus my two assistants, the Camilli. And thanks to the Fates recovering their sense of fun, with the addition on this quayside of my sister Maia and all her children—who were still not coming to safety with us, but who were getting in the way seeing us off. Then there was Petronius. He had tagged along, saying he wanted to visit his daughters in Ostia.
“Got your socks?” I heard him mocking the two Camilli. The word was new to them. When we hit the next ship, crossing the cold and wind-ravaged Gallic Strait, whichever of the two was still with us would work out the point of knitted one-toe socks.
“We could end up with both of them,” Helena muttered quietly.
“Oh yes. Your father thought it worth a formal bet.”
“How much?”
“Too much!”
“You two are incorrigible. … Father is heading for trouble. My mother ordered both my brothers to stay in Rome.”
“We’re taking both, then. That clinches it, sweetheart.”
Now we were both smiling. Helena and I would enjoy watching the lads trying to choose the right moment to confess.
Hyspale was feeling queasy before she was even on the boat. Once aboard, Helena dragged her off to the tiny cabin, taking Maia with them to help calm the woman down. I went belowdecks with Aelianus, stowing our long-distance baggage. Justinus had the thankless task of explaining to the ship’s crew that some items were wanted for the journey. We had a good system of identifier tags. Regardless of that, someone had mixed up everything. Nothing was missing as far as I could tell, but there seemed to be baggage I knew nothing about.
It is always unsettling as you wait for a long journey to start. In retrospect, perhaps there was more tension than there might have been. Perhaps people snarled and flustered around more chaotically than usual. There are shouts and bumps as
“Massilia!” I grinned, still reminiscing. “I damn nearly went to bed with you there.”
Helena buried her face in my shoulder. I think she was giggling. Her breath tickled my neck. “I expect you will do, this time.”
“Be warned, lady.” I spoke in the tough voice I used to put on—the one I once supposed had fooled her, though she had seen through it after a week. “I’m planning to exorcize every memory of places where I let you stay chaste last time.”
“I look forward to that!” Helena retorted. “I hope you are fit.” She knew how to issue a challenge.
We stood in silence for a time. Wrapped in cloaks against the sea breeze, and closely wrapped up in each other. She must have looked like a tearful wife bidding farewell to an official who was off on a long overseas tour. I must have looked like some fellow who was bravely managing not to seem too keen on the freedom ahead.
There would be no farewells. Ours was a different kind of freedom. We had always enjoyed life on the wing together. We both knew the dangers. We thought about them, even there on the quayside when it was far too late. Perhaps I should have left Helena and the babes at home. But how many careful adventurers make that sensible choice, bum off, survive endless danger and hardship, then return to the Golden City only to find that all their treasures have been wiped out by marsh fever?
There was a virulent strain of marsh fever in Britain. Still, our destination was coastal. Beyond the Great King’s picturesque harbor outside his palace would lie windswept open water, not stagnant lakes and fens. Mind you, we had to cross two seas to get there; one was a terrifying stormy strait.
Helena and I thought that life was to be lived together. Private, domestic, and shared. Shared with our family: two children, one complaining nursemaid, one scruffy dog. Plus my two assistants, the Camilli. And thanks to the Fates recovering their sense of fun, with the addition on this quayside of my sister Maia and all her children—who were still not coming to safety with us, but who were getting in the way seeing us off. Then there was Petronius. He had tagged along, saying he wanted to visit his daughters in Ostia.
“Got your socks?” I heard him mocking the two Camilli. The word was new to them. When we hit the next ship, crossing the cold and wind-ravaged Gallic Strait, whichever of the two was still with us would work out the point of knitted one-toe socks.
“We could end up with both of them,” Helena muttered quietly.
“Oh yes. Your father thought it worth a formal bet.”
“How much?”
“Too much!”
“You two are incorrigible. … Father is heading for trouble. My mother ordered both my brothers to stay in Rome.”
“We’re taking both, then. That clinches it, sweetheart.”
Now we were both smiling. Helena and I would enjoy watching the lads trying to choose the right moment to confess.
Hyspale was feeling queasy before she was even on the boat. Once aboard, Helena dragged her off to the tiny cabin, taking Maia with them to help calm the woman down. I went belowdecks with Aelianus, stowing our long-distance baggage. Justinus had the thankless task of explaining to the ship’s crew that some items were wanted for the journey. We had a good system of identifier tags. Regardless of that, someone had mixed up everything. Nothing was missing as far as I could tell, but there seemed to be baggage I knew nothing about.
It is always unsettling as you wait for a long journey to start. In retrospect, perhaps there was more tension than there might have been. Perhaps people snarled and flustered around more chaotically than usual. There are shouts and bumps as
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