The Chariots of Calyx

by Rosemary Rowe

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. Fortunatus may have had his own reasons for wanting to return to the city at that time, and perhaps he bribed Calyx to let him do it without disappointing the racegoers.’ It was logically possible. Fortunatus could have bribed Calyx to look the other way, staged an accident and so contrived to return to Londinium in time to strangle Monnius. Even if his return was noted, those feigned head injuries would be an alibi. It was difficult and dangerous, but possible – and if anyone had cool nerve, Fortunatus did.

  Perhaps it was not even as dangerous as all that – if I had not arrived asking questions, no one would have thought about it twice. I wondered how big a bribe would be needed to corrupt Calyx. Though I must not jump to conclusions, of course: there might be some other explanation altogether.

  I did not explain any of this to the optio. I said, ‘I wish I knew how seriously Fortunatus really hurt his head, and how and why that shipwreck happened when it did.’

  ‘Permission to speak, citizen?’ the soldier put in.

  ‘Go on,’ I said. ‘Have you thought of something else?’

  The soldier continued to gaze at the painted plaster above my head, but he had lost his official monotone as he said, ‘Forgive me, citizen, it may not be important. I thought nothing of it at the time. But the slave who hired the carriage did tell me that Fortunatus was very suspicious of the inn servants. Insisted on keeping his purse in his own hand and counting out his money to pay the driver. The boy was thinking only that the man mistrusted him, and I suppose one might count out money from the shape of the coins, but . . .’ He tailed off.

  I grinned. ‘You mean, it rather sounds as if Fortunatus could see, at that stage? Well done, soldier. I suppose the inn-slave didn’t let slip anything else?’

  He glanced at me in an embarrassed fashion. ‘He did say that when the slaves came in to take Fortunatus to the carriage, the charioteer seemed so impatient that he got up from his couch and lay down on the shutter himself. Then a moment later he was back to moaning and holding his head as if he couldn’t do a thing unaided. Of course, I have no other witnesses to this. I promised the boy I wouldn’t mention it – he seemed to think that it might earn him a flogging – but in the circumstances . . .’ He seemed to recall himself, and with a muttered ‘Citizen!’ he stood to attention again and resumed his contemplation of the wall.

  The optio puffed up like a fighting cock and seemed about to speak to him severely, but I cut in quickly, ‘You have done well, soldier, and I promise you that no action will be taken against the slave in question. You have my word as representative of the governor.’

  The optio turned as red as a Druid’s apron, but he could hardly gainsay that authority. ‘Very well. Dismissed. Back to your detachment,’ he barked, and the soldier, with a muttered, ‘Thank you, citizen,’ prepared to obey.

  He laid one hand upon his sword hilt and raised the other to heaven. ‘I will do all that may be ordered, and am ready to obey every command. May Jove and all the gods bless our Lord the Emperor, the Divine and Immortal Commodus Britannicus Caesar,’ he intoned, then swivelled smartly on his heel and marched away.

  The optio turned to me. ‘So, citizen, you wish to return to Londinium? Your gig is ready and waiting – the garrison commander has given the order. He wishes me to ask if you are sure that there is no further assistance he can give.’

  ‘There is,’ I said. ‘I would be very grateful if he could arrange for someone to keep an eye on Calyx while he is in the town. Whatever Fortunatus is up to, I suspect that the Blues manager is in it too, and that there is money in it for him. Quite large amounts of money, since he takes the loss of the prize purse so calmly.’

  ‘I see.’ A gleam appeared in the optio’s eye. ‘Certainly, citizen. I’m sure that something could be arranged, although it may mean sparing someone from the garrison to return to the races for the rest of the day. Myself, perhaps, since I know what he looks like, and I was detailed to accompany you there in any case.’

  ‘I think that would be most appropriate,’ I said. I had rather guessed that he would volunteer himself, if it was a question of attending the races again. But I did want him to remember what he was there for. ‘It is important to send someone in authority – someone who will not become so interested in the racing that he forgets to keep track of Calyx – and of those two men whom we saw with him, too, if possible.’

  The optio understood my meaning. He coughed and then said, ‘Of course, citizen.’

  ‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I will leave it in your hands. What hour is it? A little past midday?’

  He looked uncomfortable, and I realised for the first time that perhaps he had left me waiting a little longer than necessary. ‘A little after that, citizen. I heard the apparitor sound the trumpet at the courthouse as I was coming through the town.’

  I nodded. We had not heard it at the garrison, but the noonday trumpet was not meant for us, it was meant for those summoned before the day’s courts at the town curia – they were obliged to be present before noon, and if they missed the noon fanfare they were officially too late. Of course, on an overcast day like this one, it was not easy to judge the exact moment when the sun was at its highest, but that trumpet marks the legal end of morning, and that was good enough for me.

  ‘Then I leave here later than Fortunatus,’ I said. ‘Let’s see if it is possible to arrive back in the capital before the city gates are closed. If I can do it, he certainly could have done.’

  The optio nodded. ‘You wish to try that, citizen? I will explain it to the gig-driver. He is awaiting you now. If you and your attendant would like to follow me . . .’

  He must have explained to good effect because we fairly flew along the road, changed horses at the mansio and still reached Londinium comfortably before nightfall. Comfortably in the metaphorical sense. I have never been more pleased to see a warm bath-house and a massage in my life. I was blue in unexpected places – and for days afterwards Junio walked with care, like a newcomer to the cavalry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Citizen Libertus,’ the governor was saying, ‘I am extremely glad to see you.’ He had made a point of having me summoned to his rooms, as soon as he heard that I was in the building, so he could speak to me in person. He was being prepared for an official engagement, and a slave was helping him into his synthesis – that light and useful combination of toga and tunic which men of substance often wear to formal banquets. ‘I am sorry I am not able to entertain you myself. I was not expecting you back so soon, and this is one of a series of civic banquets to mark the end of my period in office. However, I have made arrangements for a meal to be prepared for you. You may eat in the triclinium, or have it served in your room if you prefer.’

  The thought of rattling around in the empty dining room of the palace did not appeal to me, so I accepted his latter offer with alacrity, and then, at his urging, told him the events of the day. He listened gravely, while slaves placed rings upon his hands, cleaned his ears with ear scoops and rubbed perfumed oil into his hair.

  He was visibly startled when I told him about Fortunatus.

  ‘You say he has returned to Londinium, hurt?’ He shook his head. ‘He must have entered the city very quietly, otherwise I should have heard of it. He is famous among the soldiers and that kind of news travels very quickly.’

  This had not occurred to me, although now that Pertinax had mentioned it, it seemed obvious enough. Of course, wheeled transport was not permitted on urban streets in daylight, and Fortunatus would presumably have had to transfer to a litter to get back to his quarters. That would certainly have drawn attention to his arrival. ‘Unless, of course, he was well enough to walk,’ I said.

  In that case, as we both knew, he might well have managed to slip past the town guard unremarked. Even in a place like Glevum, a well-known man could pass the gates unnoticed in a crowd, provided he wore a simple hooded tunic, kept his head down, and there was nothing to connect him to his backg
round. In a city of this size it would be easier still.

  Pertinax thought about this for a moment. ‘You think that this charioteer is the killer?’ he said at last.

  ‘I don’t know, Excellence. I only know that he was here in the city that night, after all, and therefore it would have been possible. Unless of course that fall from the chariot has really affected his sight, and he is confined to his bed. I hope to discover that tomorrow. I want to confront Fortunatus in person, if I can.’

  The commander-in-chief of all the Britannic legions nodded his head. ‘And if you wish to pay a visit to the grain stores, as you were suggesting, I will arrange to have you taken there. It would be quite convenient. The Blues have their headquarters very close to one of the granaries.’

  I began to thank him but he waved my words aside. ‘By the bye, mosaic-maker, those enquiries you requested yesterday. I sent a slave down to the market to ask at all the jewellers’, and we found the fellow easily. It was exactly as you thought. The necklace belonging to Annia Augusta was repaired, and returned to Monnius’ house. On the very evening of the murder, in fact. The jeweller delivered it himself, at the feast, and he confirms that it is indeed the one you brought away from the house and left with me. He recognised the replacement stone, he said, though I couldn’t detect any difference between them.’

  I murmured my thanks.

  Pertinax smiled and extended one hand for a slave to clean his fingernails and buff them with scented oil. ‘I am sorry, Libertus, to have given you all these duties and then left you to dine alone when you are supposed to be my guest. However, I have tried to make amends. I asked your slave what foods would please you most. I have ordered what he suggested – fresh trout baked in cabbage leaves, a dish of leeks and peas with oil, and a plate of peppered plums to end with. And no liquifrumen or garum with it. That meets with your approval?’

  It certainly did. I stammered that I was honoured that the governor should concern himself so much with my welfare. I hoped that, in turning down the garum, Junio had managed to convey my dislike for all varieties of the Romans’ beloved fermented fish-entrail sauce without giving offence.

  Pertinax smiled broadly. ‘Oh, and at his suggestion there also will be some spiced mead for you – he assures me that he can prepare it. My kitchens will arrange the rest – they will bring it to you shortly.’

  He bent forward to allow an attendant to fasten the brooch-pin on his shoulder, and made a gesture of farewell. ‘Goodnight, pavement-maker. I wish you well in your enquiries. Bring this to a quick conclusion, and we shall soon be on that progress to Eboracum.’ He held out the perfumed hand for me to kiss the seal ring, and I bowed myself out of his presence backwards.

  The province of Britannia, I thought to myself as I followed the attendant back to my bedchamber, would do well to find another governor as good as this austere and kindly man.

  When I got to my room I found Junio waiting for me, with the promised supper on a tray already set waiting on the table. I was surprised, and a little irritated. I had expected Superbus to attend me, and I wanted to hear more about Eppaticus.

  ‘Master?’ Junio said in an introductory tone as he stripped off my toga and helped me make a swift libation to the gods.

  I frowned. I knew that gambit; it meant that he was dying to tell me something.

  ‘Well then,’ I said, settling myself on a stool and preparing to make short work of the trout. ‘What is it? Come on, I know you have heard something in the servants’ hall.’ I put down my spoon suddenly. ‘Don’t tell me that the Trinovantine came here after all, and tried to hold Superbus to his bargain?’

  ‘Not quite that, master,’ Junio said. ‘Someone did come here this morning. A well-dressed slave, according to the doorkeepers, with a message, apparently for you. Superbus took it.’

  ‘A message!’ I frowned. ‘Who would be sending me a message? My patron Marcus, perhaps?’

  ‘I don’t know, master.’ Junio paused. ‘But that is not really the problem. Apparently a little later Superbus went out . . .’ Another pause.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he hasn’t come back,’ Junio finished dismally.

  I gaped like the trout. ‘Then where is he? Where did he go?’

  ‘I don’t know, master. That is what all the other servants have been asking me. He claimed that he was going out to do something for you. Something very confidential.’

  I almost groaned aloud. ‘For me?’

  ‘Yes. That is why no one in the household questioned it. Everyone knew that His Excellence had put him at your service. Only, of course, they were expecting Superbus back – especially now that we have come ourselves. The chief slave sent for me on purpose to ask about it.’

  This time I did groan. ‘And does Pertinax know that one of his valuable slaves is missing?’

  ‘Not yet, master – though he will have to be told. Of course, if Superbus does not come back there’ll be a slave-hunt for him.’

  I buried my head in my hands. In a household this size, a single slave might be gone for hours before he was missed, and even then it would not be by his master. But once a slave-hunt was in progress, every soldier in the town would be alerted, and there would be a price on Superbus’ head, dead or alive. If it was supposed that I had helped him to escape, I could be under arrest myself.

  Though I doubted that he had run away. More likely he was the victim of attack. Eppaticus, for instance. If so, I was legally responsible. I had borrowed Superbus, and if anything had happened to him in my service, which I might have prevented, the law would require me to replace him – just as I would have to replace a horse or any other possession that I could not return in good working order. And after the earlier attack, I should have prevented this. I found myself trying to calculate what Superbus’ market price might be.

  ‘Of course, he may turn up safely yet,’ I said, as though by voicing the idea I could persuade myself.

  ‘Yes, master.’

  ‘Pertinax is a fair man. If Superbus was attacked, he would never hold me responsible. In any case, it may have nothing to do with Eppaticus at all. Or with Superbus breaking his bargain.’

  ‘No, master.’

  I pushed away the platter. Junio knew as well as I did that, if I could not afford to pay for Superbus, my own servant might be taken in ‘noxal recompense’. Suddenly I was no longer hungry. I would simply have to throw myself on Pertinax’s mercy, I thought. I was not looking forward to it. Losing an expensive slave is a poor way to repay hospitality.

  ‘Where in the world do you think he went?’ I demanded, as much of myself as of Junio. ‘What was he up to, for Mars’ sake? Putting himself in a position where Eppaticus could find him? Surely he didn’t go down to the market enquiring at the jeweller’s himself? I distinctly told him not to. In fact, I told him very particularly to stay in the palace.’

  ‘I know you did, master.’ Junio was doing his best to be comforting. ‘Perhaps Superbus decided to buy himself a slave from Eppaticus after all. Unless,’ he added with a sudden flash of insight, ‘he went off to try to redeem himself a bit? Ask the questions that he didn’t ask the first time, and find out if Eppaticus ever dealt in grain?’

  Once he had suggested it, I had to admit that it seemed extremely likely. It would be just like Superbus, from what I’d seen of him, to try to rectify what he saw as an error of judgement. It was hardly comforting, however.

  ‘Great Mars! In that case, anything might have happened to him.’

  Junio had turned pale – he didn’t need me to spell out the possibilities.

  ‘Especially if there is a lot of money at stake. And I think there is. Five thousand denarii, at least.’

  Junio said nothing for a moment. Then, ‘So, what are you going to do tomorrow, master? Go to the granaries, look for Fortunatus, or try to find Superbus before someone else does?’

  I had been asking myself the same question. Previously I had planned to send Superbus to Monnius’ house, overtly to
ask more questions of the slaves, but in fact to keep discreet guard over the coins that I had found. But now that was obviously impossible. I said, after a little thought, ‘Perhaps the granaries. The governor says that the Blues live near one, and talking to the traders may lead us to Eppaticus too. Oh, Mercury! I hardly know what to do first.’

  Junio went over to the brazier, where something was bubbling gently in a metal pot. ‘I suggest,’ he said with the shadow of a grin, ‘that what you do first is drink this spiced mead I’ve prepared for you, and then take some rest. Then, perhaps, if you have finished with those plums . . .? We shan’t make matters any better by wasting good food tonight, and it will be impossible to do anything in a strange city in the dark. We should merely end up being missing ourselves.’

  Trust a slave to take a practical view. I reclined on my pillows and did my best to think aloud as I applied myself to the mead and Junio made a hearty meal of the scraps. ‘What happened at the chariot race?’ I said. ‘Was Fortunatus really injured as he said, or did he take the opportunity to come back here, scale the garden wall and throttle his rival? But if so, how did he know where to find the necklace? It only came back to the house that night.’

  Junio looked up, his mouth full of vegetables. ‘And how did he let Fulvia know in time to drug the wine?’

  I shook my head. ‘And even if he did, why hide the money under the floorboards? Even if Annia is right, and he was trying to make us think that Monnius was killed for money, surely he would take away the cash? And why steal the scroll? This case is full of mysteries. And another thing – what was the message Superbus took for me? Where did he go? And most of all, where has he got to now?’

  Whether it was the mead, the comfortable bed, or just the exertions of the last few days, I don’t know, but somehow I felt that I would think more clearly if I closed my eyes a moment.