"Tomorrow. They'll hold a trial in the Basilica Julia because they say his crimes originated with Caesar himself." Crispus licked his lips. "I'm only one of a hundred judges to hear his case. My vote will matter little. And the chairman of the trial will be Decimas Brutus."
Aurelia had explained it earlier when we rode together. At the trial, some orators would speak in favor of Radulf's conviction, and others would speak in his defense. The chairman's job was to ensure fairness during those speeches, though I hardly believed fairness was ever a priority for Brutus. In the end, Crispus and the other judges would cast their votes upon wax tablets. The votes were supposed to be secret, but again, I thought it was likely that Brutus would do everything he could to influence the outcome. After all he'd done to get Radulf arrested, he would not risk losing now.
"Are there any ways to avoid the trial?" I asked.
"Not unless Brutus drops the charges, and you can guess how likely that is." Crispus motioned for a servant to bring him a braided gold rope to tie around my waist. "Honestly, don't you know how to wear a toga?"
"No." Nor did I much care about it at the moment.
"You weren't supposed to be here," he muttered. "Listen, what's about to happen is not my idea. It's Aurelia's, and she wants to do this."
"To do what?" I asked. I did care about this a great deal, and if it took a properly belted toga to learn her plans, then I would gladly cooperate.
A servant opened my door and poked his head in, addressing Crispus. "Master, your guest has arrived."
"Aurelia's plan obviously involves Radulf's trial tomorrow," I said. When Crispus didn't answer, I added, "Is your guest tonight another judge?"
Crispus nodded. "A very influential judge. After the trial, others will watch his vote before casting their own."
Suddenly, I knew exactly what was in Aurelia's satchel, her reasons for inviting a judge to this supper. And I didn't like any of it.
Considering the food preparations under way when I'd passed by the culina earlier, I had expected a large group in attendance at supper, but Crispus's guest came alone. His name was announced as Manius Cornelius Nasica. I suppressed a smile when I heard it. Nasica meant "pointed nose," and this man certainly fit the description. Caela's beak was less sharp than his. The thin band most Praetors wore wasn't around his arm, which was a relief, though it hardly made me trust him.
By the time we entered the triclinium, Nasica was already reclined on a couch with Aurelia on a second couch. She had the satchel at her feet, and they appeared to be in quiet conversation. Aurelia eyed me as if she were displeased that we had come so soon, and then shook her head in a quiet reminder for me to not interfere.
"Welcome, my friend." Crispus was quickly growing into his role as master of this home. He seemed comfortable with greeting a man who was twice his age and at least twice his girth.
Nasica stood and gave a polite nod of his head to Crispus, but his eyes quickly rested on me. "This is the slave that does magic?"
"He's a freeman and a citizen." Aurelia spoke the words as if nothing more needed to be said.
"This is Nicolas Calva," Crispus added. "Our friend."
Nasica looked at me from over the top of his pointed nose, his lips pursed together in disapproval. That was fine by me. He didn't need to consider me a friend. I was in no hurry to befriend this fool of a man either.
After exchanging curt nods, Crispus sat beside Aurelia while I took the third couch. We had only just been seated when Livia entered the room, looking impossibly lovely considering that she'd only had a few minutes to prepare herself. I noted, also, that her toga had been correctly tied. Hers came up over one shoulder but was pulled beneath the other arm and was fitted with two gold bands, one at the lower waist and the other higher up. She looked natural in such fine clothes, unlike me, who looked as if I'd become tangled up in a bedsheet. This was the way Livia had always been meant to dress.
It was also the way Aurelia would dress once she was in Britannia, if people dressed in togas up north. Crispus would be good to her, provide her with a life I never could. If I truly cared for her, I should be happy to know that with him, all of life's comforts awaited her.
"Sit down, Nic," Livia hissed.
I hadn't realized she had moved from the entrance and was already on the couch beside me. Had Crispus introduced her to Nasica, or was he waiting for me to do it?
Livia giggled. "Really, Nic. Sit down."
Aurelia was giggling too, but I avoided looking at her. And before I could sit, Crispus's mother entered the room, elegantly dressed in the darker colors of someone in mourning. There was nowhere for her to sit except beside Nasica, and she did so, looking very uncomfortable. I considered offering to exchange places with her, but I had promised not to interfere tonight, and settling myself between Aurelia and Nasica seemed like a definite interference.
The supper was as extravagant as any meal I'd ever eaten. We began with radishes, boiled eggs, and a warm drink sweetened with honey. Then a variety of fish and carved meats were served, some of which I'd never tasted before, since Radulf preferred simpler meals. I ate a great deal because I was as hungry as usual, but also because the conversation was rather dull.
Nasica was a dim-witted sort of man who seemed to find amusement in sharing the details of trade routes to Africa, the exact shade of purple on plums as compared to grapes, his extensive family history, and other facts determined to put me to sleep. He must be very wealthy because nothing in his conversation helped me understand why anyone might follow his lead. In her kindness, Livia encouraged him by asking questions, though I knew she couldn't have held any actual interest in his dusty stories. Crisp
us and Aurelia paid polite attention, but I knew they were waiting for the main meal to end so they could get to the actual business of why Nasica had been invited here. And I was quickly losing patience with the entire ordeal.
Why didn't Aurelia just open that satchel at her feet and show him what was inside? How much of her inheritance did she intend to use as a bribe for Nasica? I doubted it would take much. If anything, Nasica owed us money as an apology for being forced to endure his stories all evening.
Once the meats were taken away, the servant announced a short break before he would bring out the fruit and cakes. Crispus's mother used the opportunity to stand and say she had a headache and would retire for the evening.
Crispus stood, offering to escort her to her room, but she nodded instead to me. "Perhaps Nicolas can walk me there."