By Steven Saylor
In the 12 months forty eight B.C., Rome is in the course of Civil warfare. As Pompey and Caesar struggle for keep an eye on of the Republic, Rome turns into a hotbed of intrigue, pushed via espionage, greed and betrayals.
A attractive younger seeress staggers around the Roman market and dies within the fingers of Gordianus the Finder. potentially mad and claiming no reminiscence of her earlier, Cassandra― like her Trojan namesake―was reputed to have the reward of prophecy, a present many in Rome might pay for handsomely...or lodge to homicide.
Obsessed with Cassandra's secret, Gordianus investigates her homicide. As he peels away the veils of secrecy surrounding her lifestyles and demise, he discovers an internet of conspiracy linking a lot of Rome's such a lot ruthless and robust girls. Now Gordianus's pursuit not just endangers his personal existence, yet may swap the way forward for Rome.
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Additional info for A Mist of Prophecies (Novels of Ancient Rome)
How can any so-called election held under such circumstances constitute a true vote of the people? The last elections were a farce and a scandal, a mime show put on for the sole purpose of putting Caesar's handpicked men in office. " groaned Canininus. " "Corrupt, maybe"-Canininus shrugged and smirked-"but hardly meaningless. The fact of the matter is that Rome has a government in place, and that government is running the city, whether you like it or not. " Canininus laughed spitefully, along with some of the more vehement of the Caesarian faction.
She gradually comes to her senses and carries on with whatever she was doing before. " "What's to be done? Some people are frightened by her and move away. Others want to hear what she says and move closer. " asked Bethesda, lifting her bowl of soup to take another sip. "But where does she come from? Has she no family? " "If you were to ask after every odd character who wanders about the markets nowadays begging for scraps, you should find yourself very busy indeed, Husband. These are hard times.
Terentia, Antonia, Cytheris, Fulvia, Fausta, Calpurnia, and Clodia-the funeral of Cassandra had brought them all together. Why had they come? To mourn Cassandra? To curse her? To gloat? The distance made it impossible to read the expressions on their faces. Beside me, Diana crossed her arms and took on the hard, shrewd look so familiar to me from her mother. "It must have been one of them," she said. " I felt a chill, despite the heat of the flames. I blinked at a sudden swirl of smoke and cinders and turned to look again at the burning pyre.
A Mist of Prophecies (Novels of Ancient Rome) by Steven Saylor