By Steven Saylor
On a kick back January night in fifty six B.C., unusual viewers to Rome - an Egyptian ambassador and a eunuch priest - search out Gordianus the Finder whose forte is fixing murders. however the ambassador, a thinker named Dio, has come to invite for anything Gordianus can't provide - assist in staying alive. sooner than the evening is out, he'll be murdered.
Now Gordianus starts his most threatening case. employed to enquire Dio's loss of life by way of a stunning girl with a scandalous recognition, he'll stick to a path of political intrigue into the top circles of energy and the city's such a lot hidden arenas of debauchery. There Gordianus will examine not anything is because it turns out - now not the damning proof he uncovers, no longer the suspect he sends to trial, now not even the true fact at the back of Dio's demise which lies in secrets and techniques - no longer of nation, yet of the heart.
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Sample text
I c a l l e d h e r n a m e softly, but she pretended to be asleep. W h a t h a d I d o n e wrong? At w h a t h a d she taken offense? A b i t of m o o n l i g h t strayed o n t o t h e bed, illuminating h e r hair. S h e h a d rinsed it with h e n n a t h a t m o r n i n g , to give it luster and to cover t h e gray. T h e smell was familiar, c o m f o r t i n g , e r o t i c . S h e could have h e l p e d me to fall asleep, I t h o u g h t , but s h e s e e m e d no m o r e willing to c o m f o r t me t h a n I had b e e n w i l l i n g to h e l p D i o .
T h e y upturned furniture, set curtains afire, smashed priceless statues. We were roused from sleep, dazed, barely able to fend t h e m off. B o n e s were b r o k e n a n d b l o o d was spilled, b u t no o n e was killed, a n d t h e attackers escaped. " D i o stiffened his jaw. " T h e attacks were well organized a n d p l a n n e d i n a d v a n c e . D o I h a v e p r o o f o f K i n g Ptolemy's c o m p l i c i t y ? N o . B u t o n e n e e d n o t see t h e sun to deduce its p r e s e n c e by t h e casting of a shadow.
T h a t very nearly proved disastrous. " I t was a s c r e a m from O n c l e p i o n t h a t woke me in t h e n i g h t . At first I t h o u g h t he c r i e d out in pain, b e c a u s e of his ruined eye. T h e n I smelled t h e s m o k e . It was only by t h e will of t h e gods t h a t no o n e was burned alive t h a t n i g h t , for t h e doors h a d all b e e n b l o c k e d from t h e outside by h a n d c a r t s , t h e type t h a t slaves use for trundling bales of hay. T h e building q u i c k l y filled w i t h s m o k e .