“Gaia is in the guardianship of her grandfather. The family holds to tradition. My father-in-law will remain head of the household while he lives.” This meant Gaia’s father had not been legally emancipated from the grandfather’s control-a situation so old-fashioned that most modern men would regard it as untenable. The scope for causing friction in the family was huge.
“Gaia Laelia belongs to a family who have a long history of the highest religious service. Her grandfather is Publius Laelius Numentinus, the recently retired Flamen Dialis-”
Yes, that was the fool who had been complaining about my goslings. Interesting that he had in fact retired from office; everyone on the Capitol had still seemed to regard him with active terror.
“I thought a priesthood was for life. Some dereliction of his duties?” Helena chuckled, ignoring the speaker’s pomposity. Priests who disgraced their office might be asked to resign, but it was rare. For one thing, the priests of the official cult had the power to cover up their crimes and the wherewithal to control critics. They could be absolute bastards, yet the truth would never get out. Let’s be honest: they could be bastards and everybody knew it, but still no controls would be applied.
The Flamen Pomonalis was stiff: “The Flaminica, his wife, has died. Since the Flaminica partakes officially in many ceremonies, it is necessary for a widowed Flamen Dialis to step down. Otherwise, essential rites would be incomplete.”
Helena’s own voice grew cold. “Hard, I always thought, for a man to lose both his wife and his position at a stroke. Especially when the position is so significant, and its rituals are so demanding. Gaia’s grandfather must now find his life rather empty. Is this part of the problem?”
“There is no problem.”
“Well, I am relieved to hear it.” She had the knack of seeming to engage in mere polite conversation, while she doggedly pursued a point. She wanted to know what had been happening in this family to make a young child take the unusual step of seeking outside help. A thwarted six-year-old would normally slam doors, scream herself into convulsions, and throw her wooden doll through a window, but then be pacified in a few seconds with just a bowl of honeyed nuts. “Even so, your young niece came here with a tale of woe and now you too are here to discuss it… What puzzled us was how Gaia chose Falco to confide in. How would she have known who he was?”
“She may have heard his name mentioned in connection with his appointment as Procurator of the Sacred Birds.” It gave me a thrill to imagine some crusty old ex-priest of Jupiter exploding with rage over his breakfast while he heard that the Emperor had given ancient responsibilities to an upstart informer-who would now be allowed to poke around with impunity among the temple enclosures. Was that why Vespasian had done it? “And I believe,” conceded the Flamen Pomonalis, “Gaia Laelia met a relative of yours at the reception when certain promising young ladies were introduced to Queen Berenice.”
His significant tone seemed rather overdone. The only link I had with Berenice was my sister Maia’s uncharacteristic foray to the Palace, the day I had first tried to find her. Had the function Maia attended been stuffed with female relatives of priests? I controlled a snigger, wondering what my sister had made of that.
Helena must have decided to pursue the mystery with Maia later. “ Well, I suggest,” she said, so crisply that it seemed like a rebuke, “ you tell me exactly what your family’s concerns are.”
“Our concerns should be obvious!” the flamen snapped. Bluffing. Hoping little Gaia had never said whatever it was her precious family was hoping to keep quiet. Or, if Gaia had revealed too many secrets, trying to play down their importance.
“Don’t worry. Falco and I know how to regard the complaints of an unhappy child. So embarrassing, is it not?”
“Children exaggerate,” he declared, relieved that she seemed to understand.
“I hope that’s the case!” agreed Helena, with feeling. Then she faced him with it: “Gaia says someone in her family threatened to kill her.”
“Ridiculous!”
“Not you, then?”
“How dare you!”
“So who was it?”
“Nobody!”
“I do want to believe that is true.”
“Whatever you were told…” He paused, hoping Helena would tell him more details. No chance.
“You are requesting us not to interfere.” Helena’s tone was quiet. I knew what that meant: for her, this visit from the flamen made it look as if the child’s appeal for help might be justified.
“I am glad we understand each other.”
“Oh yes,” she said. Oh yes! She understood him all right.
“No one could possibly wish her harm. There are high hopes of Gaia Laelia,” concluded the Flamen Pomonalis. “When the ballot for the new Vestal Virgin is drawn…” He trailed off.
