I'm surprised the old scamp didn't throw you back." I suppressed a sudden vision of Geminus with that oar raised up to crack down on my head. Maia came back with Albia. My sister said she had had enough and was going home. She hated funerals. It might have something to do with losing her husband when he was abroad, and her guilt at not being able to attend his send-off. I never liked to stress how little of Famia had remained to be given a send-off; the lion who dispatched him had not been a picky eater. Helena had been sent a personal invitation by Rhodope, though so far she had been unable to speak to the girl. We went and found her, in a glittering white mourning gown and veil [and several gold necklaces, installed on a throne-like chair on a low plinth, among a large group of dark, thin women who were presumably Illyrian. They had created a bower with a corona of modest curtains, then they stuck the girl in it by herself. This gave the impression that Rhodope was a valued member of their clan, yet they were all talking to each other, while she sat alone in misery. She made a pitiful widow, suspiciously like a prisoner. Helena firmly trod a path between the women, who were mostly sitting cross-legged on the ground. They looked hostile, but when ever she stepped on a hand or crushed a skirt, she bestowed a sweet patrician smile on the victim. Every inch a senator's daughter, Helena Justina was bringing condolences and patronage without questioning whether she was welcome. Trampling on provincials seemed to be her heritage. I knew she was angry on behalf of the bereaved young girl. Whatever support the teenager lacked, Helena intended to offer it now. Rhodope! This will be a hard day for you, but what a wonderful turnout. He must have been extremely popular. I hope it's some consolation for you." The pale girl looked suspicious. Only Rhodope had her large sad eyes fixed on the bier. Everyone else here was using the funeral as an excuse for a party. With free food and music, none of them spared a thought for Posidonius, being fleeced yet again, and few seemed to care much for seeing off Theopompus to the afterlife either. It was a segregated event. Women stayed together; so did men. Different groups of men clustered separately from each other. The formal Roman undertakers were going about their business, more or less unnoticed, while among the knots of seafarers foreign musicians played exotic instruments, oblivious to the mournful Roman flutes that were supposed to signal high spots in the ceremony. From private cooking fires, scents of roast meat and fish mingled with the incense. The overall effect was completely disorganised. It also had the feel of a party that would last for the next three days. A veiled man barged past me, his hairy arms holding a portable altar high on his shoulder. Acolytes scurried after him, towing a sheep and bringing implements for sacrifice. There were whoops from the rough element, who were eyeing up the sheep as potential spit-fodder. Since nobody else wanted Rhodope's attention, Helena was able to stay there and talk. While she introduced Albia, I stopped with them. After Maia left, Petronius had mooched off to inspect the mourners. As the only male in this group, I was out of place, but it was nowhere near so dangerous for me as joining angry men with sea-knives in their cummerbunds. The pyre was struggling to light. I could see the priest's lips moving as he cursed under his breath.
What will you do next?" Helena asked Rhodope quietly.
I am going to Illyria with his people."
Is that a good idea? Joining them along with Theopompus would have been different. Without him, will you be welcomed?"
Oh yes. They are my friends for his sake." A couple of gap-toothed old women looked up and smiled vaguely. They might not be talking to Rhodope, but they were definitely listening. Helena let the subject drop. It was Albia, herself the child of loneliness and suffering, who burst out irritably, You are being foolish. Life will be hard and you will be a stranger. They will make you marry some man who will be cruel to you. You will be a drudge." Rhodope shot her a displeased look. In different circumstances the two young girls could have made friends. You know nothing about it!"
I know more than you think!" retorted Albia. I met Helena's eyes as the two teenagers argued; she looked proud of Albia, who now said flatly, I have lived without a family, among very poor people."
