by Jane Finnis
“Timaeus was just reminding me to make sure nobody in the kitchen meddles with the meals that he prepares for Lord Plautius. Nobody at all.”
“I’ll bet he was! And it’s all such nonsense, not allowing anyone else to serve the master.”
“Did you want me for something, Diogenes?” Timaeus asked. “Or are you just snooping around as usual, seeing what you can overhear?”
“I’m looking for Margarita. Do either of you know where she is? She’s had enough time off for one day, and her ladyship wants her in her sitting-room now. When is she returning from the market?”
“She already has,” I said, surprised. “She and Priscus and Gaius left Oak Bridges before my sister and I did, so they should have got back ages ago.”
He frowned. “Well none of them are here, and neither is the carriage. It’s too bad of her, it really is. My lady gets so agitated when things aren’t just so….” He went on grumbling as he left the room.
“I’d better get back to Plautius,” Timaeus said. “But any time you want us to put our beautiful heads together, you know where I am.”
By dark Margarita and the others still hadn’t returned, and Sempronia wasn’t the only one to be agitated. We all were.
CHAPTER XV
My first thought was the obvious one, that their carriage had lost a wheel or broken an axle, or one of the horses had gone lame, so they had had to abandon their transport and walk from Oak Bridges. They’d go at a slow pace, to suit young Gaius. Or perhaps, because of the snow which was still coming down periodically, they’d decided to stay in the shelter of their carriage, but then Titch would have got home somehow to bring us word.
After the first hour of darkness, I had to admit there must be some other explanation. They’d had time to walk all the way from the market to the mansio and back again.
“I don’t know what to do next,” I said to Albia, as we stood by the fire in the bar-room, which was now empty of customers and even of Horatius. “At least they’ve got Titch with them. If there’s been an accident, perhaps someone’s been taken ill, surely he’d come home to get help.”
She kicked at a log in the hearth, sending up a shower of sparks. “You know, Relia, I’m beginning to wonder whether they’ve run away.”
“Run away? From Sempronia, you mean?”
“Yes. Do you think they enjoyed their day out together as a family so much that they decided to disappear for a while? They couldn’t vanish for ever, but if they could get far enough away from Oak Bridges to be by themselves for even a couple of days, they might think it was worth the trouble they’d get into when they came back.”
“You read too many Greek love stories, Albia! Priscus, making a bid for a few stolen hours of romance? I can’t see it myself. He finds it hard to disobey Sempronia even in small things. He’d never dare take a risk like that. It would end with Margarita and Gaius being sent off to market.”
“I suppose you’re right. So what shall we do? We can’t just wait around doing nothing but worry.”
“I’ll send some of our men out to search.”
Secundus offered to set off straight away, taking our largest carriage and plenty of torches and blankets. Four of our farm boys rode with him on horseback, carrying cudgels and lanterns. Their instructions were to check the road to Oak Bridges, the market area, and the street where we’d parked the carriages. They were also to ask for information, if they could find anyone to ask at this time of night. The Golden Fleece would probably still be open, but not much else, especially since the snow was now continuous. The wind was rising again, and I didn’t need to warn Secundus to be as quick as he could, before the weather turned to a real blizzard.
Then I took my courage in both hands and set off to see Plautius. He had to be told that his son and two of his slaves were missing. But as I was crossing the hall, Quintus came out of the guest wing, and smiled when he saw me.
“Aurelia, I’ve just heard that Priscus and two servants have disappeared. Can I be of any help?”
“I think Albia and I will manage, thank you. You were kind enough to observe that we’re excellent innkeepers.”
“I know you’re far more than that. But this latest development is in my line of business, it seems to me. I presume you’ve realised what has happened?”
“I’m still investigating the various possibilities.”
“Including,” he came close and spoke almost in a whisper, “the possibility, or probability, that Priscus and his party have been taken hostage?”
“Hostage? Who by, for the gods’ sake?”
“Someone who reckons that Plautius and Sempronia will pay a sizeable ransom for their son and two valuable slaves.”
I moved a pace back. It unnerved me to be so close to him and yet not touch. “That’s ridiculous, Quintus. This is a safe area, and anyway they were travelling in broad daylight. No, my money’s on some kind of accident, made worse by the fact that it’s snowing, and they either couldn’t or wouldn’t walk home. They’re probably taking shelter in a native roundhouse even now, wishing they could get back here for a hot bath and a good dinner.”
“But your boy Titch is with them, isn’t he? A first-class lad, as I remember. He’d have made contact with you by now if that was the explanation.”
“He’s very likely on his way. It’s all under control. So thank you for your offer of help, but Albia and I can handle this.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you wish. But the offer’s still there, if or when you need it. And I’ve got a good man with me, the best servant I’ve ever had. His name’s Rufus. Feel free to call on him, if he can be of any use.”
“Thank you. One thing you should know, if you’re advising the family. You’ve heard that someone tried to kill Plautius, but got the wrong man?”
“Yes, and then killed himself. They told me. They said you and Albia were suspected of the first attack for a while.”
I nodded. “We were the ones who found the body in Plautius’ bed.”
“I suppose they all realised soon enough that if you two had decided on a murder, you’d have made a decent job of it.”
“Why does everyone keep saying things like that?” I couldn’t help a smile, but then remembered I was supposed to be annoyed with him. “The suicide was no suicide. I know that for a fact. Plautius knows it as well, but we decided to keep it quiet and try to catch the killer off his guard.”
“You’re sure?”
“I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Sorry, yes. You’ve taken me by surprise, that’s all. So the real murderer is still somewhere around. Any idea who it could be?” He was looking at me intently, with that suppressed excitement he often showed during an investigation. I knew it so well.
“In the words of one reliable source, it could be almost anyone in Plautius’ party.”
“Oh, a nice simple problem then. Why?”
“Plautius is in the throes of making a new will, mainly to disinherit Candidus, but there are various other provisions which are causing bad feeling.”
“Bad enough to turn someone into a murderer?”
“Who knows? Oh, and one more thing. We think Titch’s dog may have attacked the murderer, possibly bitten him. So if you see anyone nursing a dog bite, will you let me know? Well, don’t look like that! You may notice something when you’re in the bath-house. One of the things a woman can’t do when investigating a crime is share a bath with the male suspects.”
“H’m. Well, thanks for that.” He smiled again, and the smile reached his purple-blue eyes. “We make a good investigating partnership, you and I.”
“We used to.”
“Remember I’m there if you need me.”
“Right.” That was all I could trust myself to say. I turned away and headed for the bar-room. I felt in need of a drink.
The room was empty, so there was nobody to see the time it took me to recover my cheery expression. But I did recover it, and I sat by the warm fire, making a determined effort
not to brood on what had once been, but was no more. I’d enough to think about, with two murders and now three missing guests.
As I got up to fetch a drink, there was a crash and a blast of freezing air as the main door burst open. A small snow-covered figure staggered in, barely recognisable because his clothes and hair were white, and his body was stooped forward as if he was about to collapse.
“Titch! Thank the gods!” I rushed across to him. “Are you all right? Are the others with you?”
He didn’t answer, but struggled to push the heavy oak door shut behind him against the storm. As I helped him, he stumbled, and would have fallen to the floor if I hadn’t caught him. He was shivering, and looked utterly exhausted. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I’m so sorry, Mistress.” He staggered again. I more or less carried him across the room and sat him on a bench by the fire.
“It’s all right, you’re home now. Here’s a warm fire, and I’ll get you some wine. Are the others with you?” I repeated the all-important question as I fetched a lamp and looked at him properly. He was blue with cold, his cloak soaking wet and covered with half-frozen snow. He had bruises on his face, and what looked like a knife-cut across the back of his right hand. He leant towards the fire’s heat, while I helped him off with his cloak and brought him some wine.
He gulped half a beaker, which made him cough, but he managed to say, “I’m sorry, Mistress. I couldn’t stop it. There were too many of them to fight off.”
“Tell me what’s happened. Where are the others?”
“They’ve been kidnapped. While we were driving home. They’ve been taken hostage.” He bowed his head and began to sob.
“ Why? And who by?” But I thought I knew the answer to the last question. The Wolf-pack was paying us out for not giving them a den.Merda! Hostage?
“I recognised two. Two of the lads who helped with the fire.” His tears fell faster, and I realised my anxiety had come out as anger.
“Victor, this isn’t your fault,” I said gently. “I’m certain you did everything you could. But I need to know the whole thing from the beginning. You were driving home, you say?”
He wiped his eyes with his hand. “Aye, just quietly trotting along, nothing unusual. We’d got into the thickest part of the woods, and there was an old man in the road, trying to drive some sheep along, but he hadn’t a dog, and they were all over the place. I slowed down so’s not to scatter them even more, and then four men jumped out on us and took us prisoner. Master Priscus and I did our best, and even Margarita got in a kick or two, but they had swords. They got hold of Gaius and said they’d cut his head off if we didn’t behave. It was Master Priscus they wanted first off, but then when they got a good look at Margarita and Gaius, they said such a beautiful pair of slaves would be worth a gold piece or two. They weren’t so bothered about me. They said I wouldn’t fetch much ransom.”
“Ransom. So this is for money, then?”
He nodded. “They said Priscus would be worth plenty, because of being from an important family, and the other two might be worth summat to the family as well, or they could be shipped down the river, whatever that meant. I told them I’m a citizen, but they just laughed, and I thought for a bit they were going to kill me, till one of them said I could bring their message back to save them having to risk it. And all the while I kept trying and trying to think how to get us all out of it, only it was getting dark, and snowing so hard, and I couldn’t.”
“You hadn’t a chance against four. Here, finish your wine. That’s better.” I poured him some more, but he shook his head. “Now, tell me the rest. Do you know where Priscus and Margarita and Gaius are being held?”
“Nah. In a native hut for tonight, they said, and then they’d be moved on tomorrow, but they didn’t say where.”
“Were they hurt in the ambush?”
“Not much. Priscus got a bruise or two when we tried to fight them off at the start. But the leader told the others to treat them gently, and not to try anything on with Margarita or Gaius, else they wouldn’t be worth so much. I don’t think they’ll come to any real harm.”
“And what happens now? You said something about a message?”
“They gave me a note for Lord Plautius. They said it’s all in there.” He tried to open his belt-pouch, but his fingers were too stiff and cold, and the cut on his hand began to bleed again.
“All in good time. First I’m going to get you some blankets and warm clothes. Will you be all right here by yourself for a little while?”
“Aye, I’ll be fine. It’s just so good to be here. When they caught us, I thought—well, it didn’t happen. But I promised Gaius no harm would come to him. I’ve let him down. I’ve let everyone down!” He began to sob again quietly. He was still little more than a boy, despite his seventeen years and his confident manner. I wanted to give him a hug, but he wouldn’t have liked it.
“You certainly haven’t let anyone down, Victor. You’ve come through a snowstorm to bring us news, and you’ve delivered their note. Now stay close to the fire and get yourself warm. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
In the kitchen they were about to serve dinner to the depleted party of guests: venison stewed in red wine, roasted piglets, and some of our best marinated asparagus. But Albia herself wasn’t involved in serving the food, preferring to keep well out of the way as we’d agreed. So she set about organising blankets and dry clothing, and a beaker of some steaming hot herbal concoction. Meanwhile I sent one of the maids into the guest wing to find Quintus. “Ask him,” I told her, “to please come to the bar-room as soon as he can, before the beans are burnt.”
“The what?” The girl looked blank, but I hadn’t time to explain about Quintus’ favourite password.
“Just give the message as I’ve told you. Repeat it now, to be sure.”
“Please to come to the bar-room as soon as you can, before the beans are burnt. But they aren’t having beans for dinner tonight!”
“Merda, girl, just do it and don’t argue.”
Albia and I went back into the bar-room and got Titch into dry clothes. He wrapped a blanket round his feet, which he said were still numb, but otherwise he was looking better and regaining his usual cocky manner. When Albia gave him the herb drink, he took a sip and made a face.
“Miss Albia, if this is what you’re serving the guests for their dinner, they’ll all be off to join the hostages!”
“Less of your cheek, or I’ll fetch you a second mug of it. Drink it up, it’ll stop you getting a chill. Every drop now, or you won’t get any dinner.”
The bowl of venison stew that she brought him when he’d finished the medicine put a grin back on his face. “Ah, this is better. I must get meself caught in a snowstorm more often.”
“Venison stew, eh?” Quintus strode through the door, followed by a tall, tough-looking servant, with red hair and beard, and plenty of muscle.
Quintus smiled at me. “Aurelia, you used my password, so I assume it’s something urgent. Why, hello, Titch! Are you the cause of this cryptic message about beans?”
The lad jumped up, forgetting his food. “Master Quintus, it’s good to see you.”
“And you. I’m surprised to find you still here. Aren’t you supposed to be joining the cavalry?”
“Aye, in the spring. I want to get into an auxiliary unit, maybe north of here, or else on the Rhine. There’s always trouble in Germania. I want to see some real fighting.”
Quintus came over and shook Titch by the hand. “We’ve got trouble enough on our doorstep, I’d say. Now finish your meal while it’s hot, or I will. The smell of it’s making me hungry. And let me introduce Rufus.” He indicated his servant, who grinned widely and made a mock-bow to all of us. “Aurelia and Albia and Victor here are good friends, Rufio. If they need our help, they get it, without question.”
“Pleased to meet you ladies, and you, young trooper. The master’s told me a lot about all of you, and none of it too bad. If you ever need me, I’ll come galloping u
p like the Parthian cavalry, only I’m not so smelly.”
We all laughed, and I felt as if a great weight was lifted from my shoulders. This was the old Quintus, not the cold, boorish stranger I’d encountered earlier. He might not want to be my lover, but he’d help us, and he’d treat all of us as professionals when it came to an investigation.
Titch gave his account of the ambush, and finished by producing the kidnappers’ message. He undid his pouch easily now, and handed the note to Quintus. It was an ordinary wax note-tablet, tied with a cord, and the knot was sealed with a roughly circular piece of wax. Attached to the cord was a crude label, just a small torn piece of papyrus, with the words, “Lord Plautius. Urgent.”
Quintus examined the tablet carefully, but didn’t open it. “This apology for a seal has some sort of drawing on it. If you apply a bit of artistic licence, it could be a wolf’s head. Does that mean anything to you?”
“There’s a small criminal gang who call themselves the Wolf-pack.” I told him about Hawk’s warning, and the fire, and Otus’ visit.
Titch added, “I heard the gang mention the Wolf’s Head tavern in Eburacum a couple of times, just chatting among themselves. It sounded like somewhere they knew well.”
“Then it looks as if this is a straightforward affair,” Quintus said. “Distressing, of course, but simple. Crooks trying to raise some easy money by ransoming a wealthy man.” He picked up the note. “I’d better take this to Plautius straight away. Aurelia, would you come with me? If we’re going to plan tactics, we’ll need your help.”
We heard voices out in the hall, and Quintus swore softly. “They’re going to dinner, and they’ll wonder where I am. Rufio, take a look in the hall and tell us when the coast’s clear. Then go in there and give my apologies to Lady Sempronia. Tell her I’ll be just a little late for the meal, so they’re to start without me.”