By Steven Saylor
The yr is 52BC, and Rome is in turmoil. Rival gangs prowl the streets as Publius Clodius, a excessive born populist baby-kisser, and his arch-enemy, Tito Milo, struggle to manage the consular elections. but if Clodius is murdered at the Appian manner and Milo is accused of the crime, town explodes with riots and arson.
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Extra info for A Murder on the Appian Way: A Mystery of Ancient Rome
I pressed on, forcing a way through the crowd while Eco and his bodyguards struggled to keep up. At last we passed beyond the edges of the crowd. I never slowed my gait until we rounded a corner and found ourselves on an empty, darkened street. I stopped to catch my breath, and Eco did the same. His hands were trembling. I realized that I was shaking, too. Hearing only my own breath and the pulse in my temples, I didn't notice the approaching footsteps. But the bodyguards did. They stiffened and drew themselves around us.
Well enough. " He hummed to himself, then grunted. "You're Meto's father, aren't you? " I tried to get a better look at him. I could make out his rugged features - the strong brow, the flattened boxer's nose - but I still didn't recognize him. "You and I met last year," he said, "briefly, when you came to visit Meto in Ravenna. " He paused for a moment. When I gave no sign of remembering, he shrugged. "Well, then, what's happening around the bend? " "No. " "Yes. They've come to see the body.
M. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. m. the twelfth hour of the night To those who taught me history, beginning with Iva Cockrell, and at the University of Texas at Austin, Professors Oliver Radkey, M. Gwyn Morgan, Richard Graham and R. David Armstrong Part One Riot "Papa! " A hand gripped my shoulder and shook me gently. I pulled away and felt cold air on the back of my neck as the blanket slid away. I snatched it back and snuggled against it, burrowing for warmth. I reached for Bethesda, but found only a warm vacancy where she should have been.