‘But he swears by all the gods that he did not kill Varius, although you think he did. That’s why Marcus wants you to come back straight away, and explain your reasoning before the curia. Obviously, there is no further risk to Julia and the children now – so if Porteus was the poisoner and it can be proved, his goods will be forfeited to compensate the crime – to the state, if there is no proper heir to claim. Though that will be the sum of punishment, I suppose, he cannot be exiled when he’s already dead and it’s agreed his daughter will not be penalized – beyond the loss of all his wealth and goods.’
‘But he didn’t murder Varius,’ I said. ‘Unless I’m much mistaken, Eliana did.’
‘Eliana?!’ Junio was shocked. ‘And I had no idea.’ He gave me a reproachful look. ‘I know that Didius was a potential threat, and no doubt you were wise to take Julia and the children away where they were safe – but if you had worked this out before you left, could you not have confided it to me, if no one else? Especially since my own family were involved. Was it because you felt you had no proper proof?’
I shook my head. ‘I could not tell you, because I’d no idea myself. I only worked out the letter mystery today, when you reported that Marcus was alive and I realized then that Porteus must be the suicide. Then pieces of mosaic slotted into place.’ I shook my head. ‘I have been an idiot. I should have suspected Porteus from the start – the way that he accosted me outside the fort, thinking I’d reported that there’d been a threat. Why should he imagine anything like that? I foolishly assumed that he’d had a threat himself – in fact I actually suggested that to him …’
‘And he leapt at the excuse.’
I nodded ruefully. ‘He even revealed that he knew about the contents of the note – and he was carrying a sequel – which he never sent, but which he accidentally showed me at the time. He thought quite quickly, I must admit the fact – claimed that it had been delivered to his apartment earlier. And I never questioned it – even though the writing-block was of similar design.’ I could hardly believe my own stupidity.
Junio nodded. ‘Probably the one that he wrote his death-confession on. Marcus noticed that the decoration was the same, and took that as further evidence of guilt. But you had already seen it at the fort?’
‘He was waiting to approach me, as I realize now – wondering how Marcus had reacted to the threat. He was such a nervous fool that he could not keep away – which, bizarrely meant that I took for granted that he was innocent. It did not occur to me that a man who had written threats against a magistrate – and so committed a serious offence – would choose to draw immediate attention to himself. And right outside the garrison at that!’
‘So he was waiting for you? But how would he know that you were likely to be there?’
‘I think I know the answer to that question too. One of his servants had been near the villa keeping watch – no doubt the one who threw in the writing-block. I said to Marcus that was likely to occur. He obviously saw me leaving and reported back …’ I broke off suddenly. ‘Dear Mars – do you know, Porteus mentioned that delivery to me – the fact that it was thrown across the wall – and I did not question how he knew!’ What is more, I thought wryly to myself, I’d noticed that Porteus dressed his servants in bright blue uniforms and did not connect it with my glimpses in the wood.
‘You’re right about the spy. One of the slaves has thrown himself upon the mercy of the curia – confessing to delivering the scroll, but pleading that he did not know what it contained and was only doing as his master said. But despite repeated questioning by the torturers, he cannot tell us any more at all – apart from the fact that he was watching you – further convincing Marcus that you’d solved the whole affair.’
Of course he had been watching me, I thought. He was the courier who ran past me on the forest track that first day – though since he was no longer attempting to disguise himself, I’d thought no more of it. Doubtless he was hurrying to his master then, to report that I was on my way – just as he informed him of my presence at the stables the next day.
‘I realized that it was not mere chance that Porteus should happen by when I was hiring the raeda,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘He must have really hoped then that his threats had worked and Marcus was about to flee. He pretended to be interested in renting the villa, while my patron was away – which I did not believe – but I thought he was just frightened and looking for a pretext so he could run away himself.’
‘But you did not suspect him of the letter? He was sure you did.’
‘I’ve been wondering myself what gave him that idea,’ I said, and then it came to me. ‘Of course, I told him that Varius was dead, and asked if he knew if there had been a threatening note – but only because he’d happened to call on Varius on that day. But he assumed that I suspected him, I suppose. He panicked, naturally – kept insisting that he knew nothing about that and asked if I knew who’d sent the threats.’
‘And you said …?’
‘That I was working on it, and would find the guilty man, and – come to think of it – suggested he left town, saying that Marcus would understand why he had fled. I still thought he’d had a threat himself, of course, but he must have drawn his own conclusions from my words …’ I broke off as the subaltern appeared, bearing a tray with the requested wine and dates. He put it on the bench – for there was nowhere else – while giving me a look that said I was the author of his woes.
‘I’m instructed to ask if there is anything else that you require.’ He could not have sounded less enthusiastic if he’d been asked to tread the wine himself.
I was about to say that there was nothing, when Junio chimed in. ‘Perhaps it would be possible to send a messenger? Just to alert my father’s slave to what is happening? You’ll find him with the ox-cart at the marketplace.’ He turned to me. ‘We’ll have to make arrangements about getting that back home. You and I can travel in the gig, and I have instructions to hire a travelling carriage for the children and the womenfolk. Marcus will pay the driver when they all get back.’ He gave me a wicked grin. ‘Hence my sealed letter of authority.’
I shook my head. ‘I promised I would take provisions back to Gwellia. She managed wonders yesterday but there is nothing there to eat. And the children are not with us, we have left them with a wet-nurse we encountered on the way – the carriage will have to call there and collect them on the way. And Arlina, who is with the family too.’
Junio shook his head. ‘No wonder it was difficult to trace where you had been. We made enquiries at several inns, but none had heard of you. One place sounded hopeful – a group on an ox-cart – but when I enquired further, it wasn’t you at all. A Celtic girl called Kennis and her family – that was the only name the landlord could recall.’
I laughed aloud. ‘I’ll tell you all about it on the way back to the farm. I’d better drive the ox-cart – why don’t you ride with me and get the gig to follow? You can bring Julia back to the temple overnight. And we’ll arrange the hiring-carriage while we are in the town – there’s no time to get to Glevum anyway, today. But I’ll send to Marcus, explaining the Varius affair – then he can make the public statement about Porteus if he likes.’
‘No problem with the message!’ Junio made a face. ‘I think the centurion will burst himself to help! Though tomorrow you and I will have to go ourselves – whatever other arrangements have been made. I am under orders from the magistrates. But I’d be interested to hear what your message will contain – you have not explained the Varius affair to me!’
So I told him, as I called for bark-paper and ink and wrote Marcus a brief account of the affair. We gave it to the centurion-in-charge, who promised he would see that it was sent – ‘by the first available military courier, naturally, citizen! And there will be no charge’. (I did not mention to my patron that I hadn’t suspected Porteus earlier, of course. If the Fates throw you a lucky aureus you do not insult them by bite-testing the gold!)
After that I wa
lked to Aquae Sulis with my son. On the way we passed the straggling marketplace where Minimus was still waiting on the ox-cart, patiently, and we quickly made the purchases that I had agreed. (Things were more expensive than in Glevum, to my mild surprise – but Junio pointed out that this was largely passing trade, most people only made the journey to the temple complex once, so there was no need for the stallholders to try to lure them back.)
I visited the temple. There was not really time, but I could not come so close and not have satisfied my curiosity. It might be the only chance I ever had. And I was glad I made the time.
The sacred place was everything that I’d heard of it, and more. There really was hot water springing from the earth, and not only a shrine to honour the goddess, but a splendid bath-house which is rumoured to have magic curing powers. I could have stayed for hours, but it was getting late, so I simply paid for a pigeon to be sacrificed, bought a prayer-plaque in honour of the newest Emperor, and drove the lumbering ox-cart, for the last time, to Eliana’s farm.
TWENTY-SIX
Gwellia was more startled to see Junio than I had been myself, and a great deal of explanation – and rejoicing – was required. Somehow, in my absence, the women had contrived to make the villa a more comfortable place: Tenuis had even briefly lit the hypocaust, Julia had spread fresh reeds and herbs around, and Gwellia had cooked an egg-dish in the pan, which – drizzled with the honey and fresh pepper I had bought – made a sustaining meal. I was almost sorry that we were to leave the next day.
Julia, however, was tearful with relief. She was anxious for her children and delighted at the prospect of seeing them so soon and returning to her normal comfortable life. That would begin this evening, I explained, with accommodation in the temple complex overnight, and I’d brought home a simple ready-made stola from the market-place – nothing of her usual standard, and a bit too big for her, but once she put it on, she looked much more like herself.
Tomorrow she and Gwellia would travel back in comfort with the slaves – with accommodation at a military mansio if required. I gave Julia the letter under seal, which would guarantee the army’s help. I no longer needed it. It had already worked its charms again, and a splendid carriage had been easily arranged for her, and even a skilled driver who would take the ox-cart home. I was oddly reluctant to say goodbye to it – I had become quite attached to the awkward animal, and Minimus clearly felt the same, though he brightened when I appointed him in charge of Arlina. ‘You can ride her back,’ I told him, ‘when the women’s party have collected her and the children from the tanner’s house.’
After we had eaten (and Gwellia had fed the driver of the gig) I took Junio out and showed him what we had discovered in the cave. Once he had seen it for himself, and heard what facts I’d gleaned, he hardly needed me to tell him what my conclusions were.
‘It must have been the mother,’ he said, thoughtfully, as we walked back towards the villa – carrying a new oil lamp, this time full of fuel, though we did not need the light once we had left the cave; it was not dusk as yet. ‘And just before she left. Imagine finding that! Poor woman, what a dreadful shock for her. And clearly she believed that Varius murdered them. But what do you suppose he can have hoped to gain? Surely it can only be the villa and the land? That is what would come to him eventually, when the presumptive heirs were dead. We heard that he did not value the estate, but that is the only motive I can see.’ He frowned at me. ‘Do you think there really was a treasure after all – and he forced the boys to lead him to the hiding-place, and killed them so they could not tell their father what he’d done?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m sure the treasure was the motive,’ I replied. ‘And you may be right about them showing him the hiding-place. But I’m fairly sure the gold – if it exists – was never found. Otherwise, why would he go on urging Eliana to come and live with him? He did that even when the father was alive. I thought it was unnaturally kind, when I first heard of it. But obviously it would ensure him the running of the estate and give him the freedom to search anywhere he chose.’
‘So you think the treasure is still somewhere on the farm?’ Junio stopped and looked around the tangled fields as if he hoped to see some evidence of it.
‘Eliana clearly did,’ I said. ‘She only ceased to look for it the very day she left, but she’d only recently decided it was there – according to Hebestus, and that would make good sense. If there was money buried anywhere, obviously she would not want to leave it here. It would have ensured her independence – there was no legal will, so the lands defaulted to her great-nephew, but there was no record of the gold, so if she could find it she could carry it away and claim it as her own.’
‘But in the end she had to cease to search and agree to come to Glevum?’ We had reached the old orchard by this time, and he stopped to pick a half-formed apple from an ancient bough. ‘It’s still productive land. This must have been a splendid villa at one time. It must have saddened her to go. Still more to see it falling to ruin. It had been her home for years. And imagine leaving, if you thought there might be treasure here …’ He threw the apple and it disappeared into a clump of weeds. ‘I suppose there was treasure?’
‘Only the gods know that,’ I said. ‘These things are often rumoured – and not often true, and usually exaggerated even so. But if there is a cache, her husband found a splendid hiding-place. Eliana went on searching and she did not find a thing. Probably she did not know about the secret opening into the inner cave – it’s not a thing a woman is likely to be told – and if she’d known of it, she would have looked there first. But the place had been abandoned as a wine-store long ago, and nobody had been there since the roof caved in. She must have gone there as a last resort, and found the bodies rather than the gold – but realized who was responsible and vowed to have revenge.’
‘So she went to stay with Varius and poisoned what he ate? And his whole household with him?’
‘What they drank, I think. I’m sure we’ll find she sent some wine ahead – and Varius was very slightly ill – so she came and nursed him better, earned his gratitude and then put a bigger fatal dose into the household wine and watched him suffering. Who would be suspicious? I certainly was not – even though I knew that she was eating separately and refusing even to drink the water in the house.’
‘Fearful that she would poison herself by accident?’
I shook my head. ‘More likely fearful that he was going to try to poison her! She was the one remaining person with claims to the estate. I suspect he hoped to kill the husband too – we’ll never know exactly what happened in that fire – though the poor man was so damaged he could no longer speak, so he could make no accusation. Normally, with injuries like that, a man would not survive for long. But Eliana nursed him valiantly and he lingered on for years. Varius must have fumed!’
Junio walked in sombre silence for a little while. ‘It’s difficult not to feel some sympathy for her,’ he remarked, at last. ‘She was responsible for several very nasty deaths – most of them people who were wholly innocent – but there is something heroic about her determination to avenge her family. A pity that she was not born a man – no judge would find against a paterfamilias who took revenge on someone who had killed his sons, crippled his marriage partner and burned down his estate. He could have pleaded insupportable injury to honour and escaped all punishment. The law is likely to be harsh on Eliana though – and rule that for a woman these were unnatural acts.’
‘We’ll find her the best advocate there is to speak for her,’ I said. ‘That is, supposing that she lives so long. She is devising her own execution as we speak – “she has outlived her usefulness”, she said, meaning that she had accomplished what she meant to do, and is refusing nourishment. Hebestus said she blamed herself for Varius’s death. With good reason, as I now realize.’ I could not repress a rueful smile. ‘I only hope that she is still alive when we get back. There is one thing that we can do for her. See that Hebestus gets the
freedom he deserves.’
‘But he must have helped her?’
‘I don’t believe he did. I think she kept this secret from him very carefully – partly for his own protection and largely out of pride. This was personal and within the family – something that she wouldn’t delegate to slaves. He struck me as very honest when I spoke to him – I’m sure he had no inkling of the truth. He’s devoted to his mistress but he spoke quite openly, even about her choices concerning food and drink, which he would not have done if he’d realized that it was significant. And he did not believe the rumour of the hidden gold, he said as much to Esa and to me but, if he knew it was the background to a feud, surely for one thing he would never have mentioned it at all, and secondly he would have given more credence to the tale?’
‘You may be right!’ Junio pushed open a broken gate which now swung from a single rusty hinge. ‘It would be nice to see him freed. What will happen to the rest of the estate? It is such a pity to see it fall to ruin.’
‘If Varius is proved to be a murderer, then even if he left a will, his goods are forfeited. I imagine it will fall into the imperial purse – so the magistrates will either try to sell the place, or put a steward in to make repairs.’ I grinned at Junio. ‘And I might know someone who would be glad of such a task …’
‘Are you two coming?’ That was Gwellia’s voice, calling from the villa, just a field away. ‘The gig-driver is waiting. He says that if he doesn’t leave here soon, you won’t get Julia to the temple in time to find your rooms.’ She shot a look at me. ‘And he’ll be back tomorrow for you shortly after dawn. I suppose the raeda has directions as to how to come for us?’
Junio nodded. ‘Father drew a little map for him. He’ll pick up Julia first and then come here for you. About mid-morning, third or fourth hour he suggests. But there is no special hurry – you can stop at any inn, and the driver is prepared to take a day or two. The ox-cart will travel at its own speed, later on. But now, I suppose it is time for me to go. Is Julia ready?’
The Ides of June Page 23