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About a year after Almo's departure for Syria Lutorius came to see her one morning, his face grave. He indicated that they had best confer alone. In her tiny sanctum he came straight to the point. "Daughter," he said, "my news is as bad as possible. You are formally accused of the worst misconduct." "Why look so gloomy?" said Brinnaria. "That is comic, not tragic. Who's the fool accuser?"
"At least," Brinnaria breathed, "we have not lost track of him this time." "We have not," Vocco answered, "and I'll wager we shall not." "Is it prize-fighting again?" Brinnaria queried, "or is it really charioteering this time?" "Neither," said Vocco. "I must say it sounds like lunacy. But all Almo's words and all the small details of his behavior show no signs of derangement.
But Almo's case is so peculiar and the circumstances so unusual and my interest in him is so compelling that I am going to make an exception in respect to him. I shall give him another opportunity as an officer. I have reflected where to send him and I have concluded to relegate him to Britain.
When he set her down inside the house she was at last a married woman. She turned and watched the scramble for the white-thorn torch which its bearer first put out and then threw among the crowd after the slaves had also put out their torches. So watching, Almo's arm about her, she became aware of a strange something in the look of the crowd and of the street.
The Vestals might mourn but the Atrium was never in mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing had happened; no sign of grief was displayed or even permitted; visitors were received as usual. Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning after Almo's fight and Meffia's death was, naturally, Flexinna. At the first word Brinnaria cut her short.
Almo had left his master's estate without a permit, in plain words had gone off like any runaway slave and had thereby exposed himself to the penalties incurred by a fugitive. Egnatius had taken the usual steps to recapture him, but neither he nor the authorities had any clue to Almo's whereabouts. As far as they were concerned he had vanished.
Now she obediently sent in her application for an audience with the Emperor. It was accorded her about twenty days after Almo's fight. Aurelius came straight to the point. "Daughter," he said, "I want you to tell me the entire truth. You can confide in me without reservation and you should do so without hesitation, since I ask it.
But it all went out of my head and I never thought of it from the moment Pertinax bowed himself out until this very instant. I'll make up to you for my forgetfulness, I promise you. Go on." Upon her telling of Almo's idling at inns after he ran away from Fregellae, Commodus cut in with: "I liked Almo, what little I saw of him, but I had forgotten him.
Brinnaria, with a sharp intake of her breath, gazed about the room and collected herself to resume her argument and make her next point. "Do you concede," she queried, "that I have the right to be solicitous about Almo's life?" "Father said so," Commodus replied, "and I never knew him to be wrong. I took that opinion from him and I see no reason to change it."
"And may I find you safe and well when I return," spoke Almo. "Farewell, Brinnaria." "Farewell, Caius," said she. The Emperor nodded and Almo bowed himself out. "Do you know," said Aurelius, when they were alone, "I have been thinking over what you said about Almo's peculiar notability of looks. It puzzles me as it puzzles you.
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