I already knew that his family was rent by quarrels; now the aunt’ s request added one more disruptive element. “Your father is an exFlamen Dialis and he wishes to keep to the old rules. He will not change his mind?”
“No, never.”
“Could he look after your aunt instead of you? A guardian does not have to be a blood relative.”
“They hate one another,” said Scaurus, as if this was natural.
“No friendly freedmen she could turn to then?”
“That would be inappropriate.” Presumably because she had been a Vestal; some women were less squeamish about ex-slaves. A freedman had a duty to his patroness which could mean more, to be frank, than the affection felt by true relatives. Sometimes a freedman and his patroness were lovers, though of course I could not suggest that of a Vestal.
“So how did you sort it out, Scaurus?”
He hesitated. Perhaps he thought it was none of my business. “My aunt will pursue the matter. I have to return to Rome in twelve days’ time-”
“Twelve days?”
“The next time for legal action.” After Pa’s urgency in sorting out my sister Maia, I should have remembered that. What Laelius Scaurus was planning with his auntie’s connivance, however, turned out to be far more astonishing than our mere attempt to buy a business: “ An approach will be made to the Praetor to name me as sui juris-free to conduct my own affairs. If that fails, we shall petition the Emperor.”
I whistled. “Fast going! Your aunt,” I said admiringly, “seems to be more than capable, if she thought all this up.” He looked vague. I rather liked her idea: “Pleading that she must have a male adviser is legal, reasonable, and modest. If the issue goes to the Emperor, he has her interest at heart, since, as he is Pontifex Maximus, the Vestals are his direct responsibility. He must treat a retired one with heavy respect. As Pontifex, he outranks your father too.” I could see only one possible wrinkle. “You don’t suppose the Emperor will elect to act as your aunt’s guardian himself?” That would be seen as suitable, though it would not help Laelius Scaurus escape from his father’s control-and it could mean the aunt acquired a guardian who would expect to be her heir too. Many did. And Vespasian was famously grasping.
Scaurus looked as if I was rushing him. “If it happens, it happens.” A shade of humor propelled him: “The Emperor may feel that my aunt is a handful.”
“Ex-Vestals do tend to be forceful,” I sympathized. He was frowning again uneasily. Talking to him was like trying to clean cooking oil off a table. Every time I thought I was making headway the surface dried out to reveal the same old sheen. “I take it she does not frighten you?” He looked as if she did. “You’re a grown man. There cannot be too much work or anxiety in running the lady’s estates.”
“My aunt is very fierce.” Scaurus spoke woodenly. I guessed she was making a monkey of him in some way. But that was often the case when a patrician woman assigned her guardianship to some poor cipher who was then supposed to humor her.
“Bear up. Terentia Paulla must have great regard for you. Look, I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but if you remain in your father’s legal control you cannot yourself hold property. Does that mean somebody else owns the farm that you and the delightful Meldina occupy?”
“My aunt,” he confirmed, unsurprisingly. A pattern had emerged here. If I was any judge, the ex-Virgin and the ex-Flamen were enjoying a hot feud and were using poor Scaurus as one of their weapons. He was a limp foil to two tremendously strong characters.
What a terrible family. They made mine look perfectly normal.
I reminded myself that my interest was supposed to be in a child. I already believed little Gaia was also being used-by her parents, Scaurus and Caecilia, in their own struggle to thwart the old man’s plans. Where did the aunt fit in there?
“I suppose Terentia Paulla must be delighted that your daughter is-fortune willing-to follow her career at the Vestals’ House?”
An odd look crossed the face of the child’s father. “Actually, this is the one subject of difference between my dear aunt and me. I believe it would be an honor-and one in the traditions of my familybut my aunt for some reason is very strongly opposed.” He gave me a direct stare.
“Terentia objects? Why?”
“That is a long story,” said Scaurus. He had previously seemed like dough anyone could knead-yet he was as slippery as any other devious swine. “And it is our family business, if you don’t mind. I understand the Pontifex Maximus will conduct the lottery three days from now, so the matter will then be settled. Was that all you wanted to say to me, Falco? I promised Meldina I would not be away from home too long today.”
“You must have finished, Marcus!” shouted Ma from the cart. And so I took the hint. We bade Scaurus farewell. He drove south again to his luscious companion; we set off northwards towards Rome.
I gave Helena Justina a brief account of my interview. Her reaction was scathing: “Save us from the intervention of loving aunts!”
