The Ides of June

by Rosemary Rowe

  The slave-boy jumped up and grinned at me, unhurt. ‘Thank you, master. I got the forked branch out. It’s made a nasty tear at the spot where it went through, but a bit of woven osier will fix it in a trice. It’s done no damage to the frame itself, that I can see, or the leather straps that hold it on. And I am not hurt either, I just fell through lots of twigs.’

  ‘Well done, Minimus,’ I managed, though his descent had knocked the breath from me. ‘It’s a wonder that you did not fall into the cart!’

  He helped me to my feet. ‘There was no fear of that. The branch sprang back and knocked me off my perch, but when the cart was freed it swayed the other way.’ He dusted down my garments as he spoke. ‘Now let’s see if we can move it, with the driver’s help.’

  In fact it needed the donkey-man as well, before we got the cart lined up again and edged around the corner, where there was more room on either side. Once we had done so the donkey sidled past, disdainfully lifting its neat hooves to clear the mud, followed by the ancient woman with the basketful of forest herbs. The boy, though, was trying to round up his rebellious goats, which had roamed off in all directions while he helped to push the cart – and suddenly I glimpsed a flash of blue underneath the cloak. My heart skipped several beats. Could this be the watcher who had spied on us before?

  ‘Citizen?’ The driver had turned his attention to the ox. Glad of his burly presence, suddenly, I went and tried to help as he tugged the horns of the reluctant animal. The creature clearly preferred to stay and eat the grass but in the end the pair of us prevailed and it was installed between the shafts again.

  The fellow climbed into the driving seat and turned to me. ‘Stranger, I must thank you for your aid. I have no coin to give, but if you follow me, I’m sure that the citizen who hired this cart will give you a reward. I’ll gladly tell him how you helped to get it free.’

  I grinned at him. ‘That will not be necessary. I am the man himself.’

  He stared at me a moment. ‘Is this some kind of jest?’

  ‘I am Libertus the pavement-maker,’ I explained. ‘Was that not the name?’

  He jumped down from the cart. ‘Then why in Dis did you not tell me that before? You let me go on struggling with this stupid vehicle and all the time, I’d done what I was paid to do.’

  My turn to stare. ‘What do you mean by that? This plaustrum – if it deserves the name – was to be delivered to my roundhouse, at the crossroads with the major road.’

  ‘Not as far as I know, citizen. My instructions were simply to deliver it to you. And I have done so. I wish you joy of it.’ And with that he forced his way back past the cart again and set off tramping back towards the town.

  ‘Hey!’ I called. But there was no reply – and the driver was too big for me to argue with. There was nothing for it, I would have to drive the cart and leave Minimus to follow with the mule.

  TWELVE

  The driver was quite right about the ox – it was a stubborn brute – but after a little I got the hang of it. When I put away the lash and let it have its head and simply plod along the path at its own chosen pace, it tolerated my attempts to guide it with the goad. By imitating the cries and whistles that I’ve heard ox-men make I even managed to urge him to one side at one of the rare clearings and let the mule go by, so that Minimus could ride ahead and clear the way for us by holding back the branches that might have snagged the wickerwork. All this made for slow progress, though, and I began to fear that I would not manage to get home by noon.

  On the other hand, I felt a good deal safer on the cart. In fact, I was so intent on driving and getting back in time that I almost forgot to worry about possible attack – though I did retrieve the hammer from its hiding place and keep it where I could reach it, just in case. I could not entirely dismiss the memory of that flash of blue. Was there someone out there spying on me still?

  So I was delighted when we reached the outskirts of the wood and the crossroads where my roundhouse came into sight. But, I was not so delighted when I saw a cloud of dust out on the larger road and realized that a carriage was approaching from the main track on the right – almost certainly the raeda already on its way. The ox was impervious to my attempts to speed him on – I was almost tempted to use the whip again – but in the end I simply gave it up, called Minimus back to come and lead the cart and ran as fast as my old legs would carry me. I reached the enclosure just in time before the carriage did.

  The raeda swept around the corner and drew up at the gate, with two armed horsemen riding either side. They fell back as the driver peered down from his perch. ‘Are you the owner here?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then you are honoured, citizen. The lady Julia is leaving for Corinium today. I am instructed that she wants to call and say goodbye to you and your good lady. Be so good as go inside to ask her to come here.’

  I bowed. ‘My wife, I fear, is aged and not able to venture out today,’ I said, hoping that the ancient gods would excuse this version of the truth, ‘or she would be the first to come and greet my patron’s wife. But if the lady Julia would care to come inside, she is most welcome to our humble dwelling.’

  I could see that he was doubtful, but Julia already had the carriage-shutter down and stuck her head out now to answer me herself. ‘Of course I will. Nourissa! Help me to alight.’ By this time the maid was already on the ground and had come around to the nearer door to let her mistress out. Julia, in a crimson travelling cloak and veil, climbed from the conveyance, pulled her hood up modestly and leant upon my arm.

  ‘I am sorry to hear that Gwellia is indisposed,’ she said, making sure that everyone escorting her could hear. ‘She will grieve to miss the children. She is so fond of them – and they of her, of course. Nourissa, bring them in and let her say goodbye. The gods alone know when we shall return this way again.’

  ‘You’re quite sure, mistress? There might be spotted fever in the house. Or some other illness that might affect the children and yourself.’ If I’d rehearsed Nourissa, I could not have improved her choice of words. ‘Is there a miasma? No infectious smell?’

  I shook my head. ‘Gwellia is suffering from frailty and age,’ I answered, hoping that my wife was not listening to this unflattering account. ‘I do not think there’s any risk of her transmitting that.’

  Julia laughed softly. ‘My servant is careful of our health, that’s all. But, Nourissa, if Libertus says it’s safe, I’m sure there is no risk. He is as anxious for our welfare as you are yourself. In any case I have that amulet you gave me, against danger and ill-health, and all the children are wearing theirs as well. So bring the babes, Nourissa.’ She turned to me. ‘We’ll have to carry them. Marcus gave them poppy juice to help them sleep and pass the journey without too much distress. Marcellinus will be sorry not be awake, but my husband thought it best to give it to them both.’

  I nodded sagely. ‘I can see the sense of that.’ I should do, since I’d recommended it! But I said nothing more, just took the sleeping infant in my free arm while the nurse-slave scooped the toddler up and brought him after us.

  As we entered the enclosure Julia turned and called, ‘We shan’t be an instant. Turn the carriage round, so we’re ready to depart, and let that ox-cart past!’

  I glanced along the road and there was Minimus, leading the ox-cart as though he had been born to it, with Arlina tied behind the vehicle and following along. In all the excitement, I had almost forgotten my cumbersome ox-wagon and my slave. ‘Take it round the corner,’ I called out to the boy. ‘My patron’s wife is here, so I can’t stop to load it now. Turn towards the villa, but don’t go very far. I’ll come and fetch you when the raeda has gone.’

  Minimus cast me an exasperated look but prepared to do as he was told and I led Julia and the children right into the house.

  The next few moments were frenetic ones. Gwellia came hurrying from the shadows at the back, so anxious to greet us that I had to shoo her back and close the door, before anybody saw that s
he was fit and well.

  ‘What kept you, husband? I was so relieved to see you at the gate. We feared something had happened and you wouldn’t come in time! Cilla and her family are here and everything’s prepared. We’ve given the children each a sleeping-draught.’ She already had taken Julia’s slumbering baby girl from me, taken off its outer wrap and was swaddling my small grandson up in it, instead. My household slaves and Cilla’s Brianus were watching open-mouthed.

  ‘Greetings, Julia! May life go well with you!’ Cilla had jumped up from beside the stool beside the fire, and began to help Julia to remove her outer clothes. ‘You think the raeda driver will be convinced?’ She was pulling on the pale pink stola as she spoke. It was comically tight on her far more ample form, and she was slightly taller than her former mistress too, so the hem of her under-tunic and her ankles were on view, but once the flowing crimson cloak was on these defects were disguised. With the veil and hood to hide her face and hair, she would pass muster at a casual glance.

  I nodded. ‘People will see what they expect to see. Now if Nourissa puts Marcellinus down and you give her your elder boy instead, we can—’

  ‘Me!’ The nurse-slave startled me. She clutched the sleeping Marcellinus closer to her breast. ‘But I’m going with my mistress. I’m sorry, citizen. She whispered to me that there was a plan to swap, but I naturally assumed that I was to stay with her and someone else was going to take my place.’

  ‘But the raeda-driver’s seen you. You don’t have a veil. That’s the whole point, don’t you see? The whole scheme hinges on him seeing you again. It lures him into thinking that things are as they were. If someone else appears he’ll know at once that something’s wrong. Didn’t your mistress tell you?’ I glanced at Julia.

  She was climbing into a plaid robe of Gwellia’s, assisted by my slaves. Her face, I noticed, was a careful blank. She was trying to disguise her natural distaste at the home-woven fabric, I was sure (which must feel coarse against her fine patrician skin, accustomed to silks and finest wool) and the ministrations of well-meaning boys, instead of her usual skilful handmaidens. All the same she forced a smile and shook her head at me. ‘I haven’t really explained things to Nourissa, I’m afraid. I haven’t had a chance. I could not find a moment when we were alone – and I could not be sure that in the villa there were not spies around. I could only whisper to her as we got into the coach, that we were in peril and there was a plan to swap.’

  The nurse-slave shook her head. ‘Well, I’m sorry, citizen. I agreed to help to keep my mistress safe and of course I will – with my own life, if that is what it takes. But if she’s in danger – as it seems she is – then I must be with her. Besides, the baby girl’s not weaned. She will take a little semi-liquid cereal, or watered wine and honey from a spoon, but she still needs the breast.’

  ‘But surely, Julia …?’ These were matters I knew nothing of.

  The wet-nurse shook her head. ‘She won’t have milk by now. I can’t just abandon my mistress and the babe. You can’t ask that of me.’ She looked as if she were about to burst into floods of tears.

  For a moment it seemed that my whole scheme was going to fall apart. The nurse’s role was vital to the plan. Of course, at Julia’s command she would do as she was told, but one word out of place – any sign of untoward reluctance or distress – and the plan would fail. She no doubt could be persuaded, given time, to act her part, but we had no time to spare. This visit had already begun to take too long.

  It was Julia who found the way to manage things. She had pulled the plaid robe on by now and tied it round her waist, and loosed her long hair from its customary coiled Roman plaits, so it hung loose round her shoulders. ‘Look at me, Nourissa, and listen carefully. My life and the children’s safety may be in your hands. We’ll find another wet-nurse, if we have to, on the road, but I’m sure the child will manage goat’s milk from now on. When I was young, that’s what they gave to me and I’ve survived. If you stay with us, the whole family is at risk. If you want to help me – and I’m sure you do – you will walk out to the raeda and help Cilla and her children into it, as though nothing untoward had happened here at all. Treat her exactly as you would have treated me. No tears, no drama, nothing to cause remark. I am depending on your loyalty, so that I can safely get the children far away from here.’

  The nurse-slave stiffened. ‘You can rely on me. Give me the other infant, then, since that’s what you require.’

  ‘And don’t forget to call him Marcellinus,’ Julia said with a smile. She looked wholly different, though still extremely beautiful. It was going to be difficult to take her anywhere without her being noticed, even in this guise. But that might work to our advantage in the end. ‘If we all survive this, I will see you’re well rewarded.’

  ‘If you survive this, mistress, that is my reward.’ The nurse had handed Marcellinus to my wife and taken Cilla’s own sleeping toddler in her arms.

  ‘Come, Nourissa!’ Cilla was already at the door. Her imitation of Julia was so accurate that the nurse looked startled for a moment, but then she followed her and I went with them out into the lane. Cilla did remember not to climb straight into the coach, but stood back and waited as I’d told her to.

  ‘Coachman, drive on! We have tarried far too long.’ It was almost too imperious, but the raeda-driver did not hesitate. He leapt down from his seat to assist her up the step, helped Nourissa to hand the children in, then closed the door and hurried back to take the reins again. The escort fell into position front and rear and, as I stood and waved a last goodbye, the carriage rattled round the corner and disappeared from view. I watched the cloud of dust that followed it until it, too, had gone and then I turned and went back to the house.

  Julia came to meet me. ‘Thank you, pavement-maker,’ she said earnestly. ‘Now the worst is over. That went without a hitch.’

  I shook my head. ‘Lady, that was the easy part. The hard time is to come. For you, more than for the rest of us, I think. But we must make a start. I’ll go and find Minimus and bring back the cart – it’s primitive but it’s the best that I could do. We’ll load it quickly and then make a start ourselves.’ I saw that she looked doubtful and I added hastily, ‘Oxen are strong but much slower than a horse. If we don’t set off within the hour we won’t get far by dark and we need to reach a place where – speaking frankly, lady – no one has ever seen or heard of us. You in particular.’

  THIRTEEN

  The hard part was indeed to come, especially for the lady Julia, I knew. The next few days were bound to be a dreadful shock to her, accustomed as she was to wealth and luxury – in fact, only pressing danger would ever have induced me to subject her to this trip. Fortunately, she had no concept of what lay in store. If she had realized what hardships she’d be called on to endure, she might have resisted the project from the start – and certainly Marcus would have vetoed it.

  To do her credit, she did her very best – did not even grumble when we packed her in the cart, although the seating was a simple wooden plank and only the flimsy wickerwork protected her from rain and wind and dust. In fact she seemed less concerned about her own discomfort than seeing that her children were settled under the cover in the back, and wrapped in home-spun blankets to keep out the cold – though she had to bite her lip when she saw the straw and reeds that I’d put down to make a bed for them.

  ‘It’s clean straw,’ Gwellia assured her, briskly. ‘We bought it specially. And Tenuis cut the reeds up at the spring this very day.’

  Julia nodded though her eyes were shocked. She was obviously doubtful about this makeshift palliasse, though her children seemed entirely content. They simply stirred when they were laid down on it, opened their eyes a moment and went serenely back to sleep. I sent up a grateful prayer to the ancestral gods for that; when Marcellinus eventually woke there might be tears and shouts, and he had sufficient language to put at us all at risk. But I would worry about that problem when the moment came. For now it was enough to
be safely on the road.

  We closed up the roundhouses and left them to the slaves – Brianus to tend Junio when he got home again and Kurso, our little kitchen slave, to guard our home for us, feed the chickens, tend the crops and keep our fire alight. (He was proud as an emperor to be told that he could sleep in the big roundhouse while we were away, instead of in the slave-hut at the door, so he could feed and fan the embers and make sure they did not die.) Tenuis and Minimus we crammed in the cart with us – though with Gwellia, Julia, the children and myself, there was not a lot of room – while Arlina, laden with our goods, was tethered to the rear.

  And so, before the raeda had been gone a half-an-hour (judging by the angle of the sun above the trees) we were on our way ourselves. I was very tense, at first – and not only because of possible attacks. I’d made it no secret that I was leaving with the cart, but my family and I are well known locally so the sooner we were out of territory where we might be recognized, the happier I’d be. Julia was wearing one of our Celtic travelling-capes by now, which both disguised her form and covered up her hair, and we’d washed off her Roman make-up with water from the jug so she looked a little less spectacular, though of course she wore no veil and she clearly wasn’t Cilla if anyone looked twice.

  We were lucky, I had timed our departure with some care – the road was not so busy at this time of day – and the only neighbour we encountered merely raised a hand, and trotted past us on his donkey without a second glance. I looked across at Julia, and realized with a start that I would not have recognized her in this guise myself – without the red ochre with which she tinged her lips and cheeks, or the kohl with which she emphasized her eyes – and her white, fair skin was already travel-streaked. I began to breath again. From now on we looked like any peasant family on the move, escaping some fire or failure of their crops – at least, I hoped we did.