‘Your slave!’ Some demon of mischief prompted me to say. ‘You must have sent him here. He would scarcely be passing these gates by accident. Were you thinking of hiring something for yourself?’
He flushed, like a child discovered stealing fruit. ‘Only to visit your patron, possibly. Nothing of importance.’
It was a lie, of course, and a transparent one. I laid a trap for him. ‘To ask about the villa, as you suggested yesterday?’ I hinted, wickedly.
He seized on the excuse I’d offered him, with evident relief. ‘Exactly, citizen.’
I gave him a sweet smile. ‘In that case, councillor, you are most fortunate. The raedarius is going to drive there any minute now. The carriage will be empty. I’m sure he could take you – especially if you offer him a tip.’
He retreated so instantly that it was comical. ‘But how would I get back to Glevum afterwards? Besides, I’ve not decided if I’ll ask your patron yet. I’ve been thinking more about it, pavement-maker, since we spoke and it strikes me that perhaps his villa isn’t safe. The threatening letter-writer must have found out where it is, or he could not have thrown the message in across the wall.’ He sounded proud of this deduction, though I should have thought an idiot might have worked it out.
‘Then it might be safer to stay here in town and invest in a hefty doorkeeper, like the one that Marcus keeps to guard his Glevum flat,’ I said. ‘Though that did not save Varius or Claudius, it appears.’
He whirled around as if he were a whipping-top. ‘You think that business was connected with the threats? Oh, dear gods!’ He sounded genuinely shocked. ‘I thought that Varius had drunk bad water from the well or eaten something rotten which had made him ill. Is that not more likely? The sickness has affected the whole household, not just the head of it.’
‘Exactly as the threatener promised!’ I pointed out. ‘I’m almost certain that it was deliberate. A member of the council, like yourself – suddenly poisoned when there are these threats about? I can’t believe it’s mere coincidence.’
‘Dear Jupiter!’ He seized my arm. ‘So, whom do you suspect?’
I shook my head. ‘Anyone who had the opportunity. Clearly it is someone who knows the area, and the names and whereabouts of senior councillors.’ I looked at him. ‘You don’t know whether Varius received a letter too? I know that you were making enquiries among the curia and I understand you called there yesterday?’
‘But I did not go in!’ Porteus squeezed my forearm till it hurt. ‘I’d hoped to lunch with him, that’s all, but when I got there I was turned away. Some old woman told me he was ill and took my litter off to look for you. I didn’t speak to him. Ask Varius when he’s in better health, he’ll tell you just the same.’
I disengaged myself. ‘Varius cannot tell us anything,’ I said. ‘He’s dead. You didn’t know?’ I stared at Porteus. ‘You hadn’t heard the news?’
‘Dead?’ He had turned paler than a corpse himself. ‘But …? That isn’t possible … Varius Quintus … I’d no idea. I can’t believe … Oh mighty Dis!’ He tailed off, wordlessly.
‘Not only Varius but his half-brother too, and most of their household servants from what I hear of it. The old woman’s steward brought Marcus word last night. There must be a connection with the threats. So you can see why I’m interested to know if Varius received a letter yesterday. But it appears that you can’t help me?’
‘Dear Jupiter! This is appalling news.’ The shock had visibly affected him. He was perspiring with fear. ‘I swear, Libertus, I know nothing about what happened to Varius at all. Ask the old woman if you doubt my word. I did not even cross the threshold yesterday.’ He grabbed my arm again.
I moved it from his grasp. ‘Then perhaps you’re fortunate. If you had lunched with him …’
He froze. Porteus was not quick of thought, but I saw the light of genuine panic in his eyes. ‘What are you trying to tell me, citizen?’ he murmured, as if he could not bear to accept the obvious.
I spelt it out for him. ‘If you had dined with Varius Quintus you would have drunk his wine. In that case you might well be dead yourself. And not just dead, but dead in agony. So, take this as a warning, councillor. You see what it implies? The man who wrote the letters is not uttering mere threats, he clearly means exactly what he says.’
‘You think that I’m in danger?’
‘If I am right about these letters, then I am sure you are.’
‘And you don’t know who wrote them?’ He sounded desperate. ‘Have you any clues?’
‘Not as yet,’ I said. ‘Though we’re looking into it.’
‘But you already have suspicions?’
I could not say as much. ‘I hope to make some progress in the next few days,’ I said. ‘In the meantime, Worthiness, take especial care.’ I glanced around to see that we could not be overheard. ‘If you wish to flee the town, I am sure that His Excellence would understand the reason why.’
He looked tempted for a moment and then he shook his head. ‘I shall not run away. I can hardly do so, after what’s been said.’ He shook his head. ‘But … on the other hand, what fate awaits me here? Libertus, if you were in my place, what would you do?’
‘Remain in town and try to find out who poisoned Varius,’ I said. ‘A simple threat is difficult to trace, but murder’s different. Someone has committed a terrible offence, with motive, means and opportunity – there must be witnesses, at least, to prove who didn’t do it. That narrows down the field. And, incidentally, once it’s known a search is on, and we are on our guard, it makes it much more difficult for the man to strike again.’
He nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I won’t feel safe until the killer’s caught. Thank you, pavement-maker, for your excellent advice.’ He clutched my sleeve again. ‘In fact, you have given me a new idea. Marcus is always praising you for solving mysteries. I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll offer a reward. A hundred denarii if you can find the poisoner, double if you can find firm proof of guilt and bring him to my court.’ He shot me a keen glance. ‘I mean it, citizen. Use any means you wish. No public mention of the letters, though – I assume that’s sensible?’
I shook my head, a bit reluctantly. A hundred denarii would keep my family comfortably for several moons. ‘I fear I can’t accept your offer, councillor. I have a task to do for Marcus, and that must take precedence.’ I saw that he was disappointed at my words and I added hastily, ‘But if I do discover anything, I’ll try to let you know. In the meantime, ask around the town. I’m sure that there are people who would jump at your reward. But now, excuse me, I must be on my way. I have other errands that I must do in town and I must be home by noon. I’ve already kept my servant waiting far too long.’
I bowed and kissed the garnet seal-ring on his hand, and hurried off towards the stable gate, where Minimus and Arlina were awaiting me. As I emerged, his slave-boys hurried in, and the last I saw of Porteus was him staring after me, biting his knuckle in evident dismay while his pretty young attendants fluttered round on either side.
ELEVEN
I did indeed have several errands in the town – Gwellia had asked me to bring back some supplies for the journey from the forum marketplace – and while I was there I used the opportunity to stop at the basilica, and speak to a passing member of the curia I knew. I could scarcely spare the time, but I wanted the news of Julia’s departure to be known, though of course I didn’t specify where she planned to go. Happily I’d found a councillor I hoped would spread the word, but he was more concerned to pass on the news to me that Varius and his brother had died the day before.
But I had done what I could. I hurried back and packed the cheese, spelt-flour bread and salted beef onto Arlina’s back, and – leaving Minimus in the street to mind the purchases and mule – I risked the time to call in at the workshop, too.
‘Father!’ Junio was sorting coloured stones when I arrived for the large new commission that we were working on. ‘I am glad to see you, but what brings you he
re? Worried that I wouldn’t find the tanner’s wife? I’ve already spoken to her – I saw her in the street – so the story of Julia’s flight to Corinium will be all over town by noon. In fact I let the woman think that you’re going there as well – or rather she seized on that conclusion and I did not contradict.’
I grinned at him. ‘Well done. That’s the tradesmen and the street-folk answered for. And I’ve been doing the same among the curial class. Though they’re not much interested in what I plan to do. People are too shocked about the death of Varius. Porteus is even offering a very large reward for tracking down the poisoner – so if you learn anything, be sure to make a claim! As well as sending word to me at the same time, of course.’
‘Porteus? Great gods!’ My adopted son looked shocked. ‘I’m surprised he has the money to make such promises. And why would he …?’ He trailed off and his face cleared suddenly. ‘Don’t tell me Porteus got a threat as well? That’s what you came to tell me?’
‘Not entirely,’ I replied. ‘I do have another reason for interrupting you. I wanted to pick up a weapon to carry on the road – I’ve got a knife, concealed about me even now. But there are laws against these things and it’s already been spotted by a sentry once, so I’ll have to keep that firmly out of sight. I need something that looks innocent that I can keep to hand. One of our stone-breaking mallets would do the trick, I thought.’
‘This one?’ He dusted off his hands and handed it to me.
I weighed it in my palm. ‘And perhaps you should carry the smaller one yourself. I wish you’d brought your house-slave with you into town. He’s not much help with cutting stone, perhaps, but I don’t like you walking through the woods alone, the way things are.’
‘You are Marcus’s confidante, not me. I should be safe enough. Anyway Brianus was required at home today to help with preparations for the trip. Which reminds me, while you’re here, you can take the warmer cloaks with you as well. I’ve just fetched them from the fullers, and you will be glad of thicker plaid.’ He handed me the bundle and I slipped the mallet among the pile of woollen cloth. ‘You worry about me, but do take care yourself. Even the main road south won’t be as safe as it has been of late. If the legions are marching eastward towards Londinium, you can’t rely on the usual random route-marches to keep the peace.’
I shook my head although I knew that he was right. ‘I don’t think I’m under any special threat, myself,’ I said. ‘I’m part of Marcus’s extended household, I suppose, but with Julia conspicuously leaving town the letter-writer won’t be watching me.’
‘Let’s hope not, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Mother is right to fret. When the law breaks down, then any road is dangerous – you said as much yourself. There are always bandits, not to mention wolves and bears and without the legions …’ He spread his hands. ‘I mean it, Father. Take especial care and send me word as soon as you’ve arrived where you are going. May all the gods be with you. Please Jove, I see you soon.’
I squeezed his hands, and nodded wordlessly. There was really nothing useful I could add and, besides, there seemed to be something prickling my eyes. So I simply took the cloaks and left him to his work, while I hurried back towards the gate where Minimus was still waiting patiently.
With this extra bundle and the purchases there was no room for my bulk on the mule, but I perched my young slave up her back somehow and we were soon hurrying back towards my roundhouse once again. I hardly needed Junio’s warning about the forest track – it was an anxious journey, and I kept careful watch. The presence of the mallet was absurdly comforting, but I still jumped each time a creature rustled in the woods. My eyes ached with the constant swivelling and I began to wish that I had used the longer, more frequented road or ridden in the ox-cart when I had the chance.
I did not have long for such regrets, because we caught it up. I was amazed to find it on this route at all. The old track is steep and muddy, precipitous in parts, and generally too difficult for carts of any size, as the driver had clearly discovered for himself. It was a smaller, lighter vehicle than I’d expected it to be – not so much a plaustrum as common carruca, and a smallish one at that – but it was clearly the wagon that I’d contracted for: the famous wicker super-structure had snagged against a tree.
The driver had climbed down, as I arrived, and was trying to prevent the massive ox from simply plodding on and tearing off the flimsy upper-works, but without his guiding hand the wagon had slewed round, so that it was now neatly wedged across a boggy bend, right at the bottom of a steep and sticky hill.
This route is unfrequented, in a general way, but this obstruction had so blocked the way that several travellers were backed up the other side: a fellow with a donkey-load of cabbages, an ancient woman with a basketful of gathered herbs, and a red-faced farm-boy in a heavy russet cloak, whose frisky goats were threatening to escape among the trees. None of them was doing anything to help, though the man with the donkey was loudly cursing ox-carts with every oath he knew (including some inventive ones I’d never heard before).
I gestured to Minimus to slide down from the mule and gave him the leading-rope, while I went forward to see what I could do. The driver of the ox-cart, a huge, lugubrious-looking fellow in a grimy yellow tunic, was tugging on the ox’s horns without effect. He looked up as I approached and called across to me.
‘It’s no good you cursing at me, citizen, I’m doing what I can. That fool Jummilius assured me that the cart could come this way – but it has been a nightmare from the start. I should have gone the long way round on the military road, but some citizen has contracted to have this cart by noon, and if I don’t deliver it I suppose I won’t be paid.’ He glanced towards the sky. ‘Though Jove knows how I’m supposed to guess when it’s midday in any case – there’s too much cloud about to see the sun, even if we weren’t surrounded by so many trees.’
‘You unyoke the ox,’ I answered, ‘and I’ll climb up the tree and see if I can free the branches from above, then perhaps we can push the wagon around the bend.’
He made a doubtful face. ‘It won’t be easy to get past,’ he hollered back.
He had a point. He was an enormous man and the cart was wedged between dense bushes either side – brambles and hawthorn, in particular, seemed to grow particularly thick and prickly in this spot, no doubt encouraged by the prevailing damp. It was clear why the other travellers had not tried to pass by striking off the track.
‘Well, if you pull, I’ll push it from the back!’ This whole strange conversation was conducted at a yell. ‘You’ve got one of those fancy pivots on the front, I see.’ I gestured to a massive metal spike on which the axle sat.
He nodded. ‘It lets the front wheels turn more easily on bends, I will say that for it, otherwise I would not have got as far as this with it. But apart from that, the hirer’s welcome to the thing. It’s the most confounded cart I ever handled in my life – it sways about with that wretched frame on top and though it’s supposed to have a pole-spring underneath, those solid wooden wheels are horrible, for all their iron rims. It almost shakes your teeth out when you hit a root or stone. I don’t know why a sane man would want to hire it, but it seems that someone does. Well, I wish him joy of it, and of this ox as well. It might be sturdy but it’s a stubborn, wayward brute.’
These words – delivered so loudly that the gate-guards back at Glevum might have heard – were hardly comforting, since I was planning to drive this very cart for many miles – and several days. However, he was unyoking the creature as he spoke and, despite the unflattering description, the ox did nothing more alarming than give an irritated snort and wander off to munch some muddy herbiage beside the track.
‘I’ve freed him from the yoke. Now see what you can do at your end,’ the driver called to me. ‘And try to save that wickerwork as much as possible. There will be Dis to pay if we have damaged it.’
I nodded, though I hardly needed his advice. That flimsy homemade cover was all the shield that m
y party would have against the rain and I wanted it intact, if possible. At least it was no longer in danger of being torn off by the ox – though I knew that there were other overhanging branches further on ahead. I made a private vow that if I got it clear, I would drive this cart only on main military roads, which are wide and have cleared areas on either side.
I glanced up at the tree now. There was a branch that I could climb on, if it would take my weight, and from there, perhaps … I sighed. If I fell off, I would tumble into thorns. I am too old for such adventures, but the ox-driver was stranded on the wrong side of the cart, and in any case was even heavier than me. I grumbled inwardly and hitched my tunic up into my belt. I was just about to try to find a handhold overhead when my thoughts were interrupted.
‘Let me do it, master.’ It was little Minimus. ‘I’ve tied Arlina safely to a tree. I’m younger than you are, and much lighter, too.’
Gwellia would have chided him for his impertinence but I said gratefully, ‘You think you can climb it? It’s a long way if you fall.’
‘I’m certain that I can – especially if you give me a hand up to that big branch over there.’
I interlocked my hands to make a step for him, and he grasped the bough, swung himself up and swarmed along it like a cat. He disappeared a moment among the foliage and then his face appeared again and he grinned down at me.
‘The branch has gone right through it – caught it like a fork – but it hasn’t done much damage. If I use my weight to pull the forked bit back the way it came, I think it will come free.’
‘You want a knife?’ I still had one slung around my neck, underneath my outer tunic. ‘It might be easiest to cut it clear.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll try my method first.’ He disappeared again. The leaves above me churned, there was a lot of rustling; then a sudden sharp crack overhead, an oath, a shower of falling leaves and twigs, and a moment later Minimus was tumbling after them, snatching vainly at the passing twiglets and the air. Instinctively I tried to catch him as he fell and – before I knew it – both of us were sitting, winded, on the ground.
The Ides of June Page 11