‘And as soon as you sign that document, you’ll own the villa outright anyway ,’ Galronus smiled.
‘And I’ll free Arius and everyone else on the estate. They can work for me, but my days as a slave owner are done, Galronus. I can’t do it.’
The Remi noble frowned at Fronto. ‘ Before you killed him, I saw you in conversation with Verginius. He survived that entire fall, which is little less than miraculous . What did he say?’
Fronto’s eyes darted this way and that nervously. ‘He… he was concerned about his afterlife.’ When Galronus waited in expectant silence, Fronto cleared his throat. ‘He asked me to do something. He couldn’t die easily without it.’
‘Fronto. What did you do?’
‘I just nodded to let him die well. It’s nothing important.’
But Galronus could see the haunted, black look in Fronto’s eyes, and knew it for anything but trivial…
Late Summer
FRONTO watched the three figures riding slowly up the dusty track from the main road as the late summer sun began its descent over the city of Tarraco to the west. The vineyards almost glowed with an unearthly, divine, Bacchic green in that golden light, dazzling and beautiful. The Roman leaned back against the warm marble of the seat on the veranda, wincing as his stomach muscles bunched and contracted around the now-healing wound while he reached out and took his glass from the table.
Smiling, he looked at the three riders, stretched and distorted through the glass and the deep red liquid within. A wine from the villa’s cellar made from the very vines through which those men rode. No matter how standard the practice of watering wine, for the past two months, since that brutal fight in the quarry, Fronto had taken his wine neat. He had explained, when Arius and Galronus expressed concern, that since he would own this place – after a fashion, at least – then he should know its wine, and Catháin had always told him that the only way to truly judge the quality of an estate’s produce was neat and with an unblemished palate. The fact that this gave him license to drink as much strong wine as he felt like on an empty stomach sat well with Fronto, as the heady drink eased the constant ache of his wound.
Of course, that pain had now largely faded unless he moved wrong or over-exerted himself, but he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his liquid crutch just yet, despite Galronus’ disapproving glower every time he came near.
They had spent two months at the villa recuperating, Galronus only now starting to move his arm once more, and far from testing it with a sword. Fronto was walking normally now and had reacquired his healthy colour, as Arius had proved to be a more than adequate medic. Fronto was alive, and improving with every passing day. Soon…
The figures were close now, close enough for him to make out the expressions on their faces: the two younger men bleak and angry, the older one smiling fit to burst. Fronto felt his own lip s slip up at the corner in response.
He still did not own the villa , though since Rubrius Callo remained executor of the wills of the previous owners, only he had the legal right to eject the visitors, and he had no inclination to do so. Besides, Galronus had been quick to point out that the villa was solidly within territory controlled by the republic and the moment Fronto’s name went on that deed the whole place and everything in it would be liable to seizure by the senate and their representative in Hispania Citerior – the governor. It had vexed Fronto only for a short while before he had settled upon a course of action .
The day th ey had returned from the quarry they had learned that , despite what had been said, the two cousins had declined to sign the contract. True to his word, Fronto – through Galronus and Rubrius Callo – had rescinded his offer. It seemed that the boys had been rather unnerved by the sight of a Belligerent Remi warrior lurking on the corner whenever they turned around, and had finally settled into a bar and drunk themselves into insensibility. There they had been persuaded by a shady individual that he would better serve their interests legally, and they had dismissed Callo without payment for services thus far rendered.
It had been a dreadful decision for the pair. Over the next few weeks they were systematically bankrupted and ruined by the shifty new lawyer. Simultaneously, Callo had levelled against them charges for non-payment of legal services. Within little more than a month, the two had been forced to sell the small estates and business interests they had controlled to pay even a portion of their debt. Rubrius Callo had seen their names blackened in mercantile and judicial circles , and the impoverished pair now shared rooms above a fishmonger’s shop not far from the port.
Several further weeks o f playing with them had ensued, making their already miserable lives as bad as he could. It had made his recuperation a lot more fun, and Galronus had seemingly enjoyed it too. The Roman had employed Rubrius Callo now that there was no conflict of interest and the lawyer had positively delighted in helping ruin the cousins. The time had been useful in another way, too, giving Fronto time to implement his plan for saving the villa. Now, on this last day of Sextilis as autumn began to loom, everything would come together. Fronto sighed with happiness and shouted in through the villa door.
‘Arius? Galronus? Could you join me on the veranda for a moment ?’
The major domo , who was the only remaining slave on the estate since Fronto had granted manumission to the rest , emerged from the door and onto the sun-lit veranda . Behind him came the Remi warrior, gingerly testing his arm, as the three riders neared the villa buildings and reined in, dismounting. Rubrius Callo took the three sets of reins and tied the beasts to the hitching posts, then he and the miserable, dejected cousins strode across to the veranda to join the three waiting men .
‘Ah, good master Rubrius Callo,’ Fronto said with a smile. ‘I trust you have brought all the relevant documents?’
‘I have, Marcus. It’s going to be a matte r of careful timing how I lodge them all. If I get one paper stamped in the wrong order it could throw everything out. Which means: no thank you, I will not have the seven glasses of strong wine you are bound to offer me. The last time I left here I rode clear past my home and fell off my horse on the beach.’
Fronto chuckled. ‘I have full confidence in your ability to sort everything, my friend. Alright. First thing’s first.’
He gestured to the two cousins who, with sneers of hate and disdain , stepped forward.
’I withdrew my offer some weeks ago after your somewhat unwise change of heart. It is my understanding , though, that your fortunes have somewhat come undone , and so I have invited you here, in my capacity as philanthropist and benefactor, to make you a new offer.’
A glimpse of hope shone through the misery and anger on the two faces, though the younger of the pair was more concerned with Galronus, who had not stopped glaring at him since he stepped forward.
‘Here is my offer. There will not be another, and I advise you to take it. Rubrius Callo will confirm, I’m sure, that you now have little option. With your names black-listed around the province and beyond, you will receive no credit and find no patron to support you. You have no remaining property or business interests. In fact, unless you both soon find gainful real employment, you will end up in the gutter. For the sake of your uncle and aunt’s memory I would not see that happen.’
Callo slapped a document down on the marble table next to the seat and Fronto unrolled it, perused it for only a moment, and then nodded.
‘This is a contract of sale for the villa, with extra provisos. You will sell me your aunt’s villa for the lavish price of one silver sestertius each.’
Looks of appalled shock cross ed the faces of both boys, and they began to splutter their refusal.
‘I urge you to accept and sign,’ Fronto smiled. ‘Because of the extra provisos. In addition to that single coin each, I will pay off your debts, effectively freeing you from future indentured servitude. Rubrius Callo will remove the black marks against your names, and you will be free men with no debts. Moreover, to prevent you ending your days begging i
n the gutter, you will be offered employment at the warehouse facility in Tarraco’s port where the villa’s wine is transported to ship .’
Realisation dawned on the two faces that there was simply no alternative that did not end in abject poverty. With a snarl of hatred, the older scribed his name on the vellum, almost carving it i nto the surface, then turned and spat on the land. ‘I hope the vines die and your crops fail.’
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ Fronto grinned. ‘If the wine business here fails then your new jobs might be at risk. Remember the gutters, boy.’
The younger of the two scribbled his own name, then backed away, shaking slightly under Galronus’ fierce gaze.
‘Very well,’ Fronto smiled and rose, fishing two silver coins from the fat purse at his belt. He then tossed one to each of the boys. The older snarled and let the coin fall to the floor, turning his back on them and making for his horse. The younger scrabbled round and picked up both, then hurried to his own steed. The four men remaining on the veranda watched in silence as the pair mounted and rode swiftly back to the main road and away from the estate.
‘ Alright, time for the second business of the day. Arius? I am sure you have harboured feelings of bitterness these past few weeks that you alone have been maintained as a slave.’
‘ Domine, it is not my place to have such an opinion.’ He relaxed a little. ‘In truth, Domine, I have always considered myself more than fortunate with my lot. I have had the joy of serving three of the most considerat e masters a man could wish for: Marcus Mettius Rustius, Gaius Papirius Longinus and now your illustrious self.’
Fronto chuckled. ‘Well the time has come, Arius.’ The lawyer beside him, echoing his smile, slapped two more documents on the table. ‘ Rubrius Callo here carries the governor’s authority to grant manumission. Rubrius? I hereby free the slave Arius from my service.’
Arius gazed in happy surprise as Rubrius Callo produced a rod, touched him on the pate with it, and intoned in a deep voice Vindicavit in libertatem. ’
Fronto smiled and grasped Arius by the upper arms. ‘ Hunc hominem liberum volo ,’ he said, then turned the man and gave him a gentle shove forward . ‘You’re a free man, Arius.’
‘Thank you, Domine,’ smiled Arius.
‘Don’t call me Domine. There’s more, though, I’m afraid. You see, I’m in something of a precarious position, and I need your help. I am officially under exile from Italia and Rome for the period of ten years and the senate have impounded all my property and goods. As such, I cannot afford for the deeds of this villa to remain in my name, else within the month the senate would have heard of it and will snatch the property and everythi ng on it. You see my difficulty? ’
‘You wish m aster Galronus to take on the property?’ Arius smiled.
‘Not quite. Galronus will have complicated interests of his own and will be busy elsewhere. I want you to take it on , Arius . You need to take a new name, now you’re not a slave, but I need you to break with tradition and eschew my family moniker . You cannot be Arius Falerius, else the senate will come after you too. And you cannot take on Longinus’ name, or the cousins will have the opportunity once more to fight you for ownership. I would suggest you take the name of your first master and become Arius Rustius. In fact, I’ve already had Rubrius Callo draw up documents to that effect. If you will just put your mark here,’ he said, tapping the second document, ‘then Callo and I can witness it.’
The freedman simply stood, stunned.
‘Arius, this is important. You might think I am being generous, and perhaps I am, but this is also for the benefit of my family. The third document Rubrius Callo brought with him is a new contract for the villa’s deeds. This contract will place the villa in your ownership for the duration of your lifetime in return for no payment , though it imposes certain addenda. Upon your death , the ownership of the villa will pass to my eldest son . You will find the contrac t forbids you to sell the villa in the meantime , and it makes allowances for myself or my family to take up residence at any time, regardless of ownership. You will understand, I am sure, that I need to protect my family’s interests.’
Arius nodded silently, wide-eyed.
‘But the running of the villa will now be your responsibility, and any profits from it will be yours to deal with appropriately. Should you take a wife and have a family, I heartily recommend that you put plenty of money aside regularly against the day the villa returns to our family.’
Arius was still nodding.
‘Well, Arius Rustius, will you accept this and sign?’
His jaw working with no sound issuing, the former slave confirmed his new name and then used it to accept the contract on the villa.
‘Good. Now, Rubrius, be a good fellow and pop in with Arius to finalise the details.’
The lawyer, grinning, strode off inside, directing the astonished Arius with him, leaving Fronto and Galronus alone on the veranda. Fronto smiled and took a quick sip of his wine, than sank back to the marble seat, groaning at the surge of the ache in his middle. Gingerly, he prodded his midriff, recoiling with a gasp and leaking eyes.
‘It’s going to be a long time yet healing,’ Galronus said patiently. ‘Stop testing yourself. The medicus said it would be another month at the earliest before you should even try anything like riding a horse.
‘Boats are easier than horses, Galronus. I need to get to Massilia. It’s been too long , and now that everything here is under control and wrapped up.. .’
Galronus snorted derisively. ‘You on a ship? If a horse is dangerous for you then a ship would be deadly. With your seasickness and a healing belly-wound, you’d be dead before you left port. I’ve seen you almost turn inside out when a big wave hits.’
‘I have to get to Massilia, Galronus.’
‘All in good time. Nothing will happen for a month or two. Rest. Recover. I can almost guarantee that the moment you head west you’ll be at Caesar’s table again being given a new, even more dangerous command. ’
‘Maybe one day I’ll end up in there?’ Fronto noted with a n oddly sad/funny tone, pointing to the drum-shaped white stone mausoleum beside the main road at the edge of the estate. ‘I’d be in good company.’ A few days after their return to the villa, Fronto had had Verginius’ body retrieved from the quarry, given full funeral rites, cremated and interred in the villa’s mausoleum beside the family of Longinus.
‘That’s long years away, Fronto. ’ Galronus sighed and leaned on the balustrade, peering out at the tomb beyond the rows of vines. ‘ You never did tell me what you said to him in the quarry.’
‘It was nothing. Easing a dying man’s conscience is all.
‘That’s exactly what I mean. That ’s not an answer. Just more evasion , every time . ’
‘If I can’t head east yet, then the time has come to write a few letters, Galronus. One to Caesar, informing him of most of what happened. A debrief as far as he’s concerned. And one to Lucilia. You should send one to Faleria too.’
‘My writing is too poor. It’s worse than a Roman boy’s.’
‘You’ve had less practice. But Faleria deserves it anyway .’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’
‘And then once the medicus pronounces me fit, we shall go home and reap the rewards, my friend Galronus of the Remi, member of the e questrian class and future senator of Rome.’
Autumn
GALRONUS straightened where he leaned on the bannister. In the small , gravelled, half- moon before the villa’ s front door Fronto danced this way and that with the agility of a dancer, albeit an elderly and wounded one. His sword lanced repeatedly and then lashed out at the three palus stakes driven into the lawn.
He missed only one.
‘Well done. You’re already almost back up to the standard of most legionaries.’
‘That’s not enough. I need to be good.’
‘Why? What are you expecting to find in Massilia?’
Fronto paused and turned, breathing hea
vily. ‘No trouble, as such, but I want to be prepared for anything, Galronus. You remember what Lucilia said in her letter. The place is nervous and tense. Something has to happen soon, and when it does, I can see a wave of violence coming with it.’
‘You Romans. When there’s finally peace, you just get bored and fight each other.’
‘This from one of the Belgae? How many cousins have you killed in your life.’
‘That’s neither here nor there. Those cousins were arseholes. ’
Fronto chuckled. ‘Still, I feel the weight of something approaching. It’s like the build-up before a big thunder storm. I wish Caesar or Labienus would reply to my letter. I’d love to know what was going on up in Gaul. ’
‘I feel the pressure building too, Marcus. I’m not sure any of us are going to enjoy this storm. Look,’ he said, raising an arm and pointing down the access track toward the drum-shaped mausoleum and the main road. A small party was approaching in a light cart. ‘Arius is back.’
‘Good. I’m sick of being asked what to do by the servants. I don’t know this place like Arius.’
The Roman sheathed his sword, stooped with a grunt at the effort , and swept up his towel, wiping the sweat from his head and torso. He paused to examine the puckered line in his middle where Verginius’ sword had impaled him. The man really had known his anatomy. Driving a blade through a man without hitting anything vital was a tougher skill to master than going for a killing blow, any day.
‘Stop playing with it.’
‘I’m allowed. It’s my scar. One of my best , now.’
‘If you’re that pleased with it, I can give you another one,’ snorted Galronus.
As Fronto finished towelling himself and slid into his tunic, fastening the belt, the sweat already starting to seep into the linen, Arius and his small party approached the villa. The small cart, drawn by two donkeys, bore the villa’s new owner and three of the household’ s servants as it bumped over the stony track and came to rest not far from the pair at the entrance.
Marius' Mules IX: Pax Gallica Page 44