by Ruth Downie
"Is this why your grandmother is angry with Brica?"
"It was bad enough my great-uncle's family chose to trade with the army. Now one of them allows a soldier to father her children." Sabrann paused to watch the stone's movement around and back. "They say," she said, "that most of them have to pay women to lie with them."
"They speak the truth."
"Why would any woman do that? I would never do it."
"If you thought they would kill you," said Tilla slowly, "you might consider it."
The stone ground away and back, away and back before the girl murmured, "Forgive me. Everyone says I speak before I think."
Tilla shook her head. "No need. The goddess was protecting me. The medicus is not like that."
"People are saying you are his woman."
There was a grating sound from the millstones. Tilla let go of the handle and flexed her stiff fingers. "People are wrong."
Sabrann reached into the sack and gave a sudden giggle. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Always."
"Before we sent the corn tax in, we all took turns spitting in it."
Tilla smiled. "This was to wish them luck?"
"Of course." Sabrann cupped her hands to trickle more corn into the opening. "The boys wanted to piss in it, but Da said they would notice the smell. And they'd see it was damp. Spit, you can stir in."
Their eyes met, and both girls grinned.
"Your medicus might be eating spit," observed Sabrann.
"Good luck to him," said Tilla, seizing the handle and scraping the millstone faster back and forth on its half circle.
"My cousin could put a curse on him for you if you ask," Sabrann offered.
"Your cousin has the power of words?" Tilla had no intention of enlisting the cousin's help. If there were any cursing to be done, she would do it herself. Fortunately Sabrann, who was nodding eagerly, did not seem to have noticed that she had dodged the question.
"Not ten days ago," announced Sabrann, "my own cousin made a whole squad of soldiers fall over."
Tilla's hand paused. "How did she do that?"
"She was carrying water up to the house when about a hundred and fifty of them came running past, all squashed up together like they do, and you know how they stare at you?"
Tilla nodded.
"My cousin was tired of being stared at so she spoke a curse. And the moment the words were ended one of the soldiers tripped and all the ones behind him landed on top of him in a big heap. And when they got up one of them couldn't walk and had to be carried away with his leg strapped up. We were all laughing so hard we had to run and hide behind the fence."
"Daughter of Lugh!" It was a man's voice.
Enjoying the tale, they had noticed neither the dog nor the door announce his arrival.
Tilla got to her feet. "I am here."
"I am to take you to the grandmother."
There must have been twenty people gathered around the fire in the big house. The grandmother sat straight-backed in her chair and motioned for Tilla to kneel in front of her.
"Daughter of Lugh," she said, "everyone here has spoken about you. Now I wish to hear you speak for yourself."
Tilla got to her feet, brushing the bracken off her knees. She looked around at all the faces turned toward her, silent in the flickering firelight. She took a deep breath, raised her hands, and began a song.
"She is singing!" shouted a woman in the grandmother's ear.
"I know!" snapped the grandmother. "I can hear it!"
She sang some of the story of her ancestors. She sang a blessing on the grandmother and her family. And she sang a farewell.
69
EVEN AT THIS distance, Ruso could hear the roar from the amphitheater. The sports must be well under way; some of the Twentieth burning off energy and the others merely reaching a height of excitement that would wash over the town like a wave when the exit gates opened.
At Merula's, they were getting ready for a busy night. Bassus and Stichus were outside nailing the torches into their brackets ("Bastards pinch 'em else"). A few early customers were in, being served by Mariamne. Daphne was lumbering up the stairs with a pile of fresh sheets.
Behind the bar, Merula was tasting the offering from the hot drinks cauldron. She winced. "Not enough cinnamon," she snapped to a girl who was lining up jugs behind the bar.
Ruso reached for his purse as he approached. Merula saw the gesture, and her scowl gave way to a professional smile.
When he had settled his bill he said, "I need a word with Chloe."
The frown returned. "She's not working at the moment."
"I just need to give her a message."
"She's ill."
"I'm a doctor," Ruso pointed out.
The lines around Merula's mouth deepened, but she waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen. "If you can get her back to work," she said, "I'll be the one paying you."
Unusually, both doors of the kitchen were propped open, but despite the passage of air, the smoke and steam still made Ruso cough. One end of the table was covered in dirty bowls and discarded onion skins, and at the other a pale squad of uncooked pies was lined up ready to march into the oven. None of the staff who were attempting to work and argue at the same time took any notice of him. Ruso suspected that the decision to sell the kitchen slave on the eve of one of the busiest nights of the year had not been a popular one.
He rapped on the side door that led to the room where the girls slept, paused briefly, and then strode into the room.
A figure in one of the lower bunks rolled over to face him. The face was red and wet. The eyes were swollen with weeping.
"Chloe?"
"Don't come near me!"
"Chloe, about Lucco—"
"He's gone! They took him away!"
"I know."
"They promised I could keep him! They promised!" She sniffed violently. "He's all I've got!"
"I've seen him."
Chloe did not appear to have heard. With a sudden movement she swung her feet to the floor and leaped at him. "You did this!" she shrieked, pounding him with her fists. "You did this!"
Ruso made a grab for both arms and held them still. Instead of pulling away, Chloe thrust her distorted face into his. "You couldn't keep your nose out!" she wailed. "You had to show off what you'd found out, didn't you?"
Ruso held her at arm's length and looked her in the eye. "Sit down, Chloe," he ordered, "and listen to me."
"I won't sit down! Lucco is my life! It's your fault he's gone!"
"My fault?"
"Why did you have to interfere?" she shrieked. "Look what happened to Phryne! Everything you do causes trouble!"
"SIT DOWN!" roared Ruso, pushing her roughly onto the bed and narrowly missing banging her head on the top bunk.
She was silent now. Her hands were shaking as she lifted them to cover her face.
"He's gone," she moaned, "my little boy, my little boy, my baby . . ."
Ruso shifted a pile of clothes and a hairbrush and seated himself on the only chair. "I've seen him," he said. "He's with a visiting trader."
Chloe shuddered, then managed to say, "Is he all right? He'll be frightened."
"He wanted me to—"
He was about to explain about the message when the door burst open and Stichus announced, "I know where he is!"
"With the trader," groaned Chloe.
"I'm going down there to get him."
"I haven't got any money," said Chloe, reaching down to unfasten her ankle chain. "I've got this, and a bit saved up, but it's nothing."
"Don't matter," announced Stichus, "me and Merula have had words. I'm leaving. I get my share after closing time tonight. I'll go down there, put a bid on the boy, and pay up in the morning."
Chloe reached for his hand. "You'd do that? Really?"
Stichus grinned. It was not a pretty sight, but Ruso guessed it was kindly meant. The man, whom he had always thought of as Bassus's shadow, was showing commendable initiati
ve. There was only one problem.
"They may not give you credit," he said. "There's a sign saying 'cash only'"
Stichus stared at him as if only now noticing he was there. Finally he said, "Fine," and turned on his heel. "It's my money; I'll have it now."
When he had gone Ruso said, "Your son says to tell you that Bassus told Merula about the bad oysters."
"I know that already, bless him," said Chloe. She sniffed and groped for something to wipe her nose on, finally settling on a soggy ball of rag that she shook open and applied to her blotchy face. "It's all my fault."
Ruso, relieved that he was no longer being blamed, said nothing.
"I should never have said anything about Saufeia's stupid letter," said Chloe, unexpectedly. "Then you wouldn't be poking your nose in and asking questions . . ." She paused to sniff. "And Bassus wouldn't know I'd talked. He told Merula about Lucco's silly trick with the oysters so she'd sell him. And he did it to get back at me."
Ruso let out a long sigh. It was his turn to lower his head into his hands. He should have had more sense than to question Bassus about the letter. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just trying to find out what's happened to Tilla."
Chloe stretched herself out on the bunk and lay with her eyes open, gazing at the slats holding the mattress above. "I knew it would all go wrong in the end," she said.
From beyond the kitchen door there was a crash and a shout of exasperation. Ruso took a deep breath. He stared at his toes. He wished he were somewhere else. Another country Another lifetime. Anywhere he might never have met the girl he called Tilla. If he had ignored the fuss around the fountain, none of this would have happened. But Chloe was right: He had to interfere. And from that moment everything had gone wrong. It was as if he was cursed from the moment those beautiful eyes had . . . gods above! Now he was starting to believe all that rubbish himself.
Stichus reappeared, looking angry. "I can't get the cash," he said. "Miserable cow says it's locked in a strongroom and she hasn't got the key. I'm going down there anyway."
"Stop!" Ruso was reaching for his purse. "How much are you expecting from your wages?"
Stichus waved a hand to indicate that anything Ruso could offer was nothing compared to his need. "A bloody sight more than you've got."
For answer, Ruso knelt on the floor and upended his purse. Chloe gasped.
Ruso glanced at Stichus. The man opened his mouth and closed it again as if he had lost the power of words.
"I'm about to repay a loan," explained Ruso. "But that can wait a day." Since Tilla had vanished, Priscus could hardly seize her if the Aesculapian loan was not paid on time.
When Stichus had hurried out with the money, Chloe said, "I'm sorry for the things I said. I think you do try to do the right thing."
"I'm beginning to wonder why I bother."
He glanced at her. Chloe had managed a weak smile.
"I examined Saufeia's body after they pulled her out of the river," he told her. "Someone said to me that no one should die like that. And it's true."
Chloe sat up and put her bare feet on the floor. "If I knew where Tilla was," she said, "I would tell you. I don't. But I can tell you some of what you want to know. If you promise, really really promise, to keep quiet about it now? You won't tell anyone or ask any more questions?"
"If it will help someone, I can't stay silent."
"How can it? It's about Saufeia, and she's dead."
"Very well."
"I don't know who killed her in the end. But I do know the thing they're so frightened of everyone finding out. Saufeia was a Roman citizen."
Ruso felt himself blink. "A citizen?" he repeated. A citizen could not be a slave, let alone a slave forced to work as a prostitute. "How could she be . . . ?"
"What she told us—what she started to tell everybody before Bassus gave her one of his little private coaching sessions—was, she was a centurion's daughter who'd run away with her boyfriend after a fight with her stepfather."
A centurion's daughter. So that explained the smattering of education. And the knowledge of army expletives.
"Then she fell out with the boyfriend—that was the one thing she was good at, falling out with people—and he dumped her on the road. She had no money, of course. So she went to an inn to ask for help and got picked up by some lowlife who said he'd take her home. Well, of course he didn't. So she ended up here.
"As soon as she got here she started whining about who she was, but Merula was short-staffed so she told her to shut up and they put her to work. They must have known they'd done a stupid thing, but by then they were in serious trouble anyway, so they just kept on serving her to the customers and everybody was too scared to talk because Merula said we'd all be arrested and whipped. Of course they couldn't ever let her out. She must have realized they were just going to work her to death. Or sell her on to someplace worse." Chloe gave a bitter laugh. "Don't believe any of those stories about girls from places like this being rescued by men who fall in love with them. I've been here longer than all of them, and I can tell you, it doesn't happen."
"Tilla told me about Daphne's punishment."
"Daphne should have had more sense. Most of the men we meet aren't as soft as poor old Decimus."
"She was trying to copy Asellina?"
"I always thought it was odd that Asellina didn't get in touch," said Chloe. "The truth is, the only way you can go from here is down."
Ruso wondered if the men who came to relax with these girls real ized the true ghastliness they were paying to support. "You've been fortunate."
"I've been determined," she said. "I have a child to think of." She dropped her head into her hands. "What if someone outbids him?"
"He has plenty of money," said Ruso, whose own unspoken question was, What if he runs off with it? "Tell me some more about Saufeia."
Chloe nodded. "The cook took pity on her and got her some writing things. She wrote a letter to the legate at the fort asking to be sent home. The cook was supposed to deliver it, but Bassus saw it and said he'd take it instead. We all thought she'd get a beating when he read it, but it looked as though he'd just gone and delivered it, 'cause a couple of days later some official lackey arrived here with a letter for her. Said he wouldn't hand it over to anybody else. She burned it as soon as she'd read it and she wouldn't tell anybody what was in it, but I got the idea she thought somebody was coming to save her."
Ruso scratched his head. "But if someone was coming to get her, why did she run away? Surely if she'd waited they'd have sent an officer down with a whole squad, made arrests . . ."
"Like they tried with Phryne."
Ruso scratched his ear. "I truly meant well, Chloe. I was told the child was kidnapped."
"You were told that by Tilla?"
He nodded.
"She should have known better."
Ruso shrugged. "She was convinced it was true. She was cooking up potions to help."
"I meant, she should have known better than to tell you. Of course Phryne was kidnapped."
"What?"
"I tell you, if they ever get their hands on that Claudius Innocens, he's a dead man. After Saufeia you'd think they'd learn, but he offered them Phryne cheap and they didn't ask too many questions. And nobody 'round here was going to say anything, not after everything that had happened."
"But I was told the second spear questioned Phryne in private!"
Chloe pursed her lips. "Your second spear's men aren't very bright. One of them told our lovely management why he was here before he sent them to fetch her. So they had time to have a word with her before they brought her downstairs. They told her a string of lies about how much trouble she'd be in if she didn't say what they wanted. She was too scared to know who to trust."
"So where did Bassus get her documents?"
"Bassus and Innocens between them," said Chloe, "must know every forger in the province."
Ruso shook his head slowly from side to side, as if trying to settle all this
jumbled information in his brain. "Tilla told me I was poking about in a wasps' nest," he observed.
"We did try to warn you."
Ruso frowned. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me Saufeia knew help was coming but she still ran away?"
"No," said Chloe, "that's not what I'm saying."
"It was staged!" said Ruso suddenly. "They couldn't get rid of her here without everyone knowing so they forged an official letter telling her someone would meet her outside."
Chloe gave a weak smile. "Does it take you this long to diagnose all your patients?"
"Without the letter or any witnesses to the murder, nobody can prove anything."
"Of course," Chloe agreed. "Saufeia was stupid, but they aren't. The letter probably held instructions for her to burn it."
"Which she did because she thought she was keeping it secret." Ruso paused. "This is only a theory. It could be wrong."
"It isn't," said Chloe. "Listen. They've always let me out because they knew I'd come back for Lucco. But after Asellina went one or two girls started to get ideas, so they tightened up. I'm the only one who gets past them now. All that stuff about escorting girls for their own safety? It's rubbish. It's so nobody makes a run for it. Every slave here is in chains, Doctor. They just aren't the sort you can see. Saufeia wouldn't have got out of here unless they wanted her to."
"The doormen let her out, followed her, and then killed her."
Chloe shrugged. "I don't know. If they didn't, they know who did. It doesn't much matter, does it? Nobody knows who her family was or what her real name was, and it won't bring her—" She broke off to look up as the door opened. "Lucco!" she shrieked, leaping to her feet and pulling the boy into her arms. "Oh, Lucco, my baby!"
Stichus, standing in the doorway, caught Ruso's eye and grinned. "Bet you thought I'd run off with the cash," he said.
"It never crossed my—" Ruso's lie was stifled by an enthusiastic kiss from Chloe, who then flung herself at Stichus in a similar fashion before seizing her son again and ordering him to say thank you.
"It was nothing," said Ruso, finding his mouth stuck in a foolish grin and relieved that at last he seemed to have gotten something right. He was heading for the door when Stichus said, "Stay a minute, Doc, all right? I got something to say and I want a proper witness." He stepped in and closed the door.