Infames

VII

Murinus had done some stupid things in his life. This was definitely on the stupider end of the scale, and was quite possibly even the stupidest.

The guards stepped aside as he entered into the lavish atrium, now illuminated by oil lamps as the night drew close, darkening the sky into a deep blue. He wore a light pink tunica now, with a white tainia in his hair as his waist was girdled with a yellow band: a very deliberate choice, of course. He had not explained the decision to Aristomedes, but the man had not asked either. He had simply paid for Murinus's breakfast before running through the plan again but, just as he thought the man had started to warm up to him, he had been blunter than usual. Not to mention that he had refused to look Murinus in the eye all morning. Part of him wondered if the other man had figured him out...

Fronto was waiting for him, teeth bared as he grinned like a tiger, and scantily-clad attendants surrounded him, adorned in forced enthusiasm. His toga billowed out around him as he stepped forwards, and he placed his hands on Murinus's shoulders, gripping firmly as he kissed his cheek.

"Most welcome guest," Fronto delighted, then placed a hand on the actor's back and ushered him further into the villa. "I have been looking forward to your visit all day!"

The entourage followed them through the grand hallways until they reached a large, dimly-lit room with red walls, decorated with a green garland pattern, and a blue and white mosaic sprawled across the floor, depicting scenes of satyrs and nymphs in various states of euphoria. Three broad lecti, draped with soft fabrics, gathered in the centre of the room surrounding a table laid with warm food and wine, while the sweet scent of nard graced the air. The attendants took to their stations, filling their cups as Fronto guided Murinus to sit. He smiled politely and reclined on the lectus opposite his host. The pouch hidden beneath his tunica pressed uncomfortably into his hip.

"Your return has been greatly anticipated," Fronto began as he laid himself on the couch, the crow's feet pulling at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. He took his cup from one of the wine-bearers, whom Murinus recognised as one of the long-haired youths from yesterday, then raised it heavenward. "May we have blessed partnership."

That last word sounded nothing but disgusting coming from that man's mouth, but Murinus withheld his true feelings and raised his cup as well. "I couldn't have expressed it any better myself."

The accountant chuckled, then reached forward and popped a grape into his mouth. As he chewed, he spoke. "Tell me, dear Aristomedes, who is the young man beneath all this beauty? I like to know my clients as intimately as possible." He took a swig of his wine. "So that I may provide the correct service, of course."

"You flatter me," Murinus replied, tightening his cheek muscles so as to force a blush. "I came to Rome to seek fortune from my talents."

"Doesn't every free actor?" Fronto quipped back, and Murinus could not argue with that. It was true of himself, at least. "I want to know what sets you apart."

The actor inhaled slowly and straightened his back.

"My memory," he told the older man, sight fixed on him. "It takes me less than three days to memorise all my lines. I know all the works of Euripides and Aeschylus by heart."

Fronto's lips curled upwards. "Fascinating."

Murinus exhaled, then slouched back into the couch as he took his cup of wine, offered to him by the nearest attendant, and downed it in an instant. He had not meant to be so honest, especially not to this man, but the words had poured from him like a river running to the sea, unknowing of the tempestuous waves that crashed there.