Murder in the Forum by Rosemary Rowe

see what more he hoped for. Phyllidia is a good-natured girl, but she is no beauty and she lacks the sparkle and education necessary for patrician society. Thanks to her father, she cannot even play an instrument or recite the poets. She might have married once, when she was younger, but the suitor wanted a huge dowry, and her father was too miserly to meet it. I would have taken her with none.’
    He said it with such simplicity that I was touched. I too, had once loved a woman in that way, although my Gwellia had been skilled, and such a beauty that a dozen men would have offered for her hand, whether she brought them land or horses or not. Besides, I reminded myself, this interest was not wholly selfless. Dowry or no dowry, Phyllidia would presumably inherit a sizeable fortune one day.
    In fact, she was probably about to do so. I looked at Octavius with interest, but he was still grumbling about Felix.
    ‘Some
auspex
had told him that Phyllidia would one day be wealthy and wed, and for once her father decided to believe the auguries. He tried to make a match for her with a dozen men, all rich and in their dotage – all seeking favour with the Perennis family, of course. But Phyllidia learned to be so stupid and sullen that even they refused her in the end. It was the only way she could protect herself. And then there was this plot to marry her to Marcus. The Emperor had approved it himself, Phyllidia said, and though she wept and pleaded, Felix was implacable.’
    This was a new view of Phyllidia. Marcus would hardly be flattered either, I thought.
    ‘Felix arranged a coach and a chaperon and paid an armed
custos
to accompany them. There was nothing Phyllidia could do. She was just another consignment of goods, she said, being delivered to the buyer. Felix was to go ahead to Britain – he had some private business in Eboracum – and she was to follow and meet up with him in Glevum.’
    At the mention of the northern
colonia
my spine prickled. I had learned, not long ago, of a Celtic slave called Gwellia living in Eboracum. I said, ‘So you followed her on horseback?’ I could understand the impulse. Given the faintest opportunity, I would make the long and dangerous journey to Eboracum – and I could not even be sure that this Gwellia was my wife.
    Octavius nodded. ‘We were to make one more appeal to Felix, and if that failed, we had agreed . . . we threatened . . . But it is of no importance now. Her father is dead. And nobody poisoned him. So I must find Phyllidia and tell her the news. She has probably jumped to conclusions and is worrying about me.’
    ‘Octavius,’ I said, ‘you are a freeman and a citizen, and I cannot detain you. But I will give you a warning. Be careful that tongue of yours does not betray you. There are sharp minds in Glevum, and Commodus will not be happy at this death. The authorities would gladly find a culprit. I do not know how you planned to poison Felix, though I can well see why. I sincerely hope for your sake that you did not succeed.’
    Octavius stared at me. ‘But . . . you said that Felix had merely choked.’
    ‘I said that he appeared to choke, and for the moment I am prepared to let the public believe it. But there are some indications, citizen, that it may not be true.’
    His stare widened ‘You mean, he may have been poisoned after all? Dear gods!’ Octavius put down his drinking vessel, and before either of us could stop him he had bolted for a second time out of the door.
    Junio made to go after him, but I restrained him. ‘Let him go, Junio. He has caused enough speculation in the street by calling here already. He will not get far.’
    Junio picked up the drinking cup. ‘You think he murdered Felix?’
    I sipped at my water. ‘I do not know. I think he fears he may have done. Either that, or he thinks he knows who did. But it is fruitless to call him back. He will tell us no more for the moment, and anyway, this way I can finish his oatcake and’ – I