The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  Lupus pointed eagerly at himself.

  ‘No, Lupus,’ said Miriam. ‘You stay here and rest. Aristo, will you go?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Aristo and he caught the gelding’s bridle.

  ‘No.’ Miriam put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t take this poor creature. Can’t you see he’s exhausted? Take our old mule and we’ll let the horse rest until after dinner. Lupus, can you give this faithful steed a good brush and a warm blanket? Good. As for you, Nubia, I think the hot plunge should be ready by now.’

  An hour later – bathed and wearing one of Miriam’s old lavender tunics – Nubia joined the others for dinner. It was dusk. Aristo had returned with Pliny. Gaius was back from Rome, and now they were all seated in the tablinum around his wooden desk, which had been cleared of scrolls and tablets. Nubia noticed that Miriam had diplomatically placed herself between Gaius and Lupus. Nubia sat between Aristo and Pliny on the other side of the desk. Big Ferox lay faithfully at Gaius’s feet and Nubia rested her bare soles on his warm back.

  ‘Thank you, Senex,’ said Miriam, as the ancient slave set a large ceramic bowl of chicken and apricot stew before them. Senex beamed at her, revealing his single tooth.

  Miriam looked at Gaius. ‘May I?’ He nodded. Miriam pulled her palla over her head and said, ‘Let us thank God.’ She recited a prayer in Hebrew but finished in Latin: ‘And Lord, please help Hephzibah. Come to her aid. Amen.’

  While they ate, Nubia watched Miriam’s husband Gaius. He was the twin brother of Flavia’s father Marcus, and apart from his broken nose and a faint scar over one eyebrow, they were identical. He was a handsome man, like his brother, but almost twenty years older than his fifteen-year-old wife. Nubia thought this was very strange, and she wondered how a girl not much older than she was could love such an old man. But their love was apparent whenever they looked at each other.

  ‘Today,’ said Gaius, tearing a piece of flatbread and dipping it in the stew, ‘grave events have occurred. Two men have been murdered, Hephzibah has been accused of killing them and Nubia’s status has been called into question. Let’s start with you, Nubia,’ he said. ‘Remind me: when did my brother buy you?’

  ‘Flavia buys me last year, on day of her tenth birthday.’

  Pliny frowned. ‘Flavia could not have legally bought you,’ he said. ‘She’s still a child-in-power.’

  ‘What is childinpower?’ asked Nubia.

  ‘A Roman father has rights over his children,’ said Pliny, leaning forward. ‘This is unique to us Romans. A father essentially owns his children. He also owns all they possess or acquire. He can sell or even kill his children if he wishes, though today that’s frowned upon.’

  Lupus grunted. When he had their attention, he pointed to Gaius, then to old Senex, emerging from the kitchen with a fresh basket of flatbread.

  ‘Yes, Lupus,’ said Pliny. ‘It’s very like the relationship of a master to his slaves.’ He looked at Flavia’s uncle. ‘For example, I imagine you occasionally give that old slave money or small gifts?’

  ‘I do,’ said Gaius.

  Senex nodded and showed his single tooth in a grin as he continued to shuffle forward.

  Pliny turned back to Lupus and Nubia. ‘Such gifts to slaves are called peculium. But even those are rightfully the owner’s.’

  Senex stopped in his tracks.

  ‘Let’s say that old slave were to die tonight.’

  Senex gazed open-mouthed at Pliny.

  ‘And say he’d saved up a few sesterces from what his master Gaius has given him over the years.’

  Senex glanced around guiltily.

  ‘Upon his death, that money would revert to Gaius. It rightfully belongs to him.’

  A look of horror passed across Senex’s face.

  ‘At any rate, that’s the law—’ said Pliny and paused dramatically before adding, ‘but I don’t believe it’s fair.’

  Senex smiled with relief.

  ‘I allow my slaves to make their own wills,’ said Pliny. ‘A slave like that,’ here he gestured at Senex, ‘could leave his few sesterces to a friend or child or fellow-slave. It’s not strictly legal, but I personally wouldn’t deny him that.’

  Senex nodded with satisfaction, resumed his slow shuffle forward and put the basket of bread on the table.

  ‘And as Lupus pointed out,’ said Aristo, ‘children are like slaves in this respect.’

  ‘Precisely,’ said Pliny. ‘Male children remain in the father’s power until the father dies, female children until they marry.’

  ‘That means,’ said Aristo, ‘that Flavia and all her possessions actually belong to her father. Until she marries.’

  ‘Or until her father dies,’ added Pliny.

  They all made the sign against evil.

  ‘Therefore,’ said Pliny to Nubia, ‘you are officially the property of Marcus Flavius Geminus.’

  ‘Could Marcus set Nubia free?’ asked Miriam.

  ‘Of course,’ said Pliny, ‘but he would have to do it in the presence of a magistrate. However, because Nubia is under thirty, she would not become a proper Roman citizen, as most freed slaves would.’

  ‘She wouldn’t?’ said Miriam. Nubia noticed that she had hardly touched her stew.

  ‘No. Nor would Hephzibah. I’ve been discussing this with the jurists, the experts in Roman law. According to the lex Aelia Sentia which was instituted in the reign of Augustus, freed slaves under the age of thirty become Junian Latins.’

  ‘What is June Latins?’ asked Nubia.

  ‘Junian Latins are essentially a type of second-class freedman, or freedwoman. They don’t have all the rights of a Roman citizen like ordinary freedmen. For example, according to my jurist friend Labeo, they may own property but not dispose of it upon their death. Their property would revert to their former owner, or his official heir.’ He smiled at Nubia. ‘But it’s still better than being a slave. Marcus can set you free tomorrow. Just make sure he gets a magistrate to witness it. Then you won’t have to worry about being tortured for evidence.’

  ‘There’s only one problem,’ said Aristo. ‘Marcus Flavius Geminus is in Sicily, attending his patron’s wedding.’

  ‘Marcus is in Sicily?’ said Gaius. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Yes, you do know that, Gaius,’ said Miriam gently. ‘Your brother told you last week, when he brought us that nice amphora of garum.’

  ‘Did he? I suppose I’ve been preoccupied.’ Gaius ran his hand through his light brown hair in a gesture identical to one Flavia’s father often made.

  ‘When will he be back?’ asked Pliny.

  ‘He said not to expect him before the Nones,’ said Aristo. ‘At the earliest.’

  Lupus grunted and pointed down.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Aristo. ‘Tomorrow.’

  Pliny raised his rumpled eyebrows at Nubia. ‘Then you’ll have to remain in hiding until he returns.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Nubia.’ Miriam reached out and squeezed Nubia’s hand. ‘We’ll be happy to shelter you until Marcus returns, won’t we, Gaius?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Gaius.

  ‘And we must help poor Hephzibah.’ Miriam’s violet eyes filled with tears. ‘She must be free to come live here. She must!’ She hid her face in Gaius’s shoulder and began to sob.

  Gaius slipped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Shhh, my love,’ he said. ‘We won’t let any harm come to her.’

  Miriam suddenly pushed back her chair and looked at them with liquid eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Please excuse me.’ She hurried a few paces to the bedroom and disappeared behind the curtain. They could all hear her muffled sobs.

  Gaius’s jaw clenched. ‘Miriam’s right. We’ve got to help Hephzibah. And we must begin by discovering the truth of what happened this afternoon at Dives’s – I mean Nonius’s estate.’

  ‘I can tell you what happened immediately before she left.’ Pliny tore his gaze from the bedroom curtain and looked around at them. ‘You all kno
w that Hephzibah has been staying with me since her freedom was contested. I was to be her protector and patron until her suit could be settled. After the disaster in the forum this morning – gods! was it only this morning? – I drove her straight back to my villa, only stopping to drop off Miriam. A few minutes later, a messenger arrived with a note from Nonius telling Hephzibah to pick up her things immediately, or else he would give them away. Phrixus was going back into town to do some shopping. He dropped her off and she told him she would walk back here. It doesn’t take long: half an hour at most. That was the last I saw of her.’

  ‘You should have sent someone with her,’ said Aristo quietly. ‘A freedman. A slave. Anyone.’

  ‘I offered,’ cried Pliny, ‘but she insisted she would be fine by herself!’

  ‘What happened next?’ asked Aristo. Nubia saw him glance towards Miriam’s bedroom; the sobbing had ceased.

  Gaius turned to Lupus. ‘According to this young man, they arrived at Dives’s former estate at about the first hour after noon.’

  Lupus nodded.

  ‘The place was in turmoil,’ continued Gaius. ‘Hephzibah had been found crouched over a dead body. She denied the murder and Nonius was about to beat a confession out of her when Mordecai intervened. Is that correct so far, Lupus?’

  Lupus grunted yes. He pretended to strike his right temple with his fist, crossed his eyes and slumped back in his chair.

  ‘As Lupus just told us,’ said Gaius, ‘the victim had been killed by a single blow to his head. His name was Mercator, and he was one of Dives’s freedmen. Mordecai looked for the murder weapon. But all they found was a ceramic jug.’

  Lupus pointed to one of the two jugs on the table, the one containing water.

  ‘It looked like that?’ said Aristo.

  Lupus nodded emphatically, then pointed inside and shook his head.

  ‘Because it still had water in the bottom,’ said Gaius, ‘Lupus and the others do not believe it was the murder weapon. They also believe the crime was committed elsewhere, and Mercator’s body dragged to Hephzibah’s cubicle afterwards, in an attempt to implicate her.’

  Lupus nodded, and then beckoned Gaius on.

  ‘Mordecai asked Lupus to look for evidence that the crime had been committed elsewhere.’

  ‘And did you find any such evidence, Lupus?’ asked Pliny, his dark eyes bright.

  Lupus nodded and held up his wax tablet. On it he had written:

  SPOTS OF BLOOD IN STOREROOM NEAR SLAVE QUARTERS. LOTS OF BLUNT INSTRUMENTS THERE, TOO.

  ‘So Mercator probably wasn’t killed in Hephzibah’s cell after all,’ said Pliny, ‘but in the storeroom nearby. It seems there is some clever mind behind this.’

  ‘Aristo! Lupus!’ cried Flavia an hour later. ‘Where have you been? We needed you! And we can’t find Nubia! Jonathan and I took the dogs out into the graveyard, but we couldn’t find her anywhere and now it’s dark outside!’

  ‘The rain must have washed away her scent,’ said Jonathan, wheezing with anxiety. ‘Nipur and I tried to track her footprints but then it got too dark—’

  ‘We’ve just come from her,’ said Aristo, taking off his cloak and hanging it on a wooden peg of the vestibule, ‘and she’s perfectly safe. I found her at Avita’s tomb this afternoon, and I took her to stay with Miriam and your Uncle Gaius.’

  ‘Oh, praise Juno!’ sobbed Flavia. ‘Thank you, Aristo. Thank you for finding Nubia.’

  He nodded grimly. ‘Lupus and I have just had dinner there,’ he said. ‘We heard all about the second murder.’

  Lupus looked up from patting the dogs and nodded.

  ‘Oh, Aristo!’ cried Flavia. ‘I saw two dead bodies today. It was horrible.’

  ‘I know. Death is a horrible thing.’ He looked around the atrium. ‘Where is Hephzibah? Nubia and I were watching from the woods when you passed by in the carruca. We saw the vigiles had her in custody. Miriam hoped she would be under Mordecai’s protection.’

  Flavia shook her head. ‘They put her in a horrible little cell behind the basilica.’

  ‘We can’t get the vadimonium until tomorrow,’ explained Jonathan. ‘Father has gone to take her blankets.’

  Flavia shivered and pulled her palla tighter round her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be cold tonight. Oh, but I’m so glad Nubia is all right.’ She bent and took Nipur’s head in her hands. ‘Nubia’s safe! Your mistress is in good hands.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Aristo. She’s in very good hands, so don’t worry. ‘Come. Let’s go into the tablinum. I want you to tell me again exactly what happened this afternoon.’

  Last will and testament of Jonathan ben Mordecai.

  I doubt that anybody will ever find this or read it. And even if they do, I’ve probably done it wrong and so it will be invalid. But I don’t suppose it will matter because I’ll be dead.

  Here is a list of my possessions and the people who should get them.

  any money I might have

  my mother and father

  my dog Tigris

  Nubia

  my hunting things (bow, arrows, etc.)

  Lupus

  my clothes and shoes

  ditto

  my small collection of scrolls

  Flavia Gemina

  my herb pouch

  Polla Pulchra

  Everything else should be given to the poor or thrown away

  (I have written this because I keep dreaming about a funeral procession and I think it’s mine.)

  Written – but not sealed or witnessed – the day before the Nones of December in the consulship of Titus Caesar Vespasian Augustus and Domitian Caesar.

  Miriam had made a bed of blankets for Nubia in a corner of Gaius’s small tablinum. It was soft and warm, but without Nipur’s comforting bulk at her feet she found it hard to sleep. Somewhere in the woods outside the lodge an owl hooted his mournful cry and later she heard the squeal of its prey. A mouse. Or perhaps a shrew. She remembered the tiny corpse she had buried earlier that day, and how completely lifeless it had been. What was the spark that made creatures live? Was it the breath of God, as Jonathan’s family believed? Or something else?

  The owl cried again further away and she was finally drifting off to sleep when Ferox’s deep warning bark brought her wide awake and set her heart racing. Then she heard it: a soft, urgent knock on the front door. They had come for her in the dead of night, when there was no escape!

  From Miriam and Gaius’s bedroom came a thump and a curse, and the sound of Gaius shushing Ferox and then the knock came again, softly. Three raps, a pause, then three raps again.

  Nubia heard Miriam’s voice, urgent and insisting, then the skitter of Ferox’s toenails on the pebbled walkway and his excited panting. A moment later came Miriam’s whisper, close-at-hand.

  ‘Nubia! I don’t think it’s the vigiles, but stay absolutely still and silent. Be ready to run to your hiding place.’

  Nubia nodded, even though she knew Miriam couldn’t see her in the darkness. Her heart was pounding like a rabbit’s.

  From between the legs of the desk Nubia caught a glimpse of Miriam’s heavily pregnant form, dimly lit by the small oil lamp in her hand.

  The sound of the bar being slid across, a few urgent whispers, then Miriam called: ‘I have to go out, Gaius. Will you drive me?’

  ‘Great Jupiter’s eyebrows, woman!’ came his muffled voice from the bedroom. Then, louder as he came into the courtyard: ‘It’s not one of your wretched women again, is it?’

  ‘It’s Lydia, up at the estate of Barbillus.’

  ‘Can’t she send for your father?’

  ‘Too far. The baby is coming now. Gaius, please. She needs me. She knows me. I’ve been attending her.’

  ‘But it’s almost your time, too. You shouldn’t be going out in the middle of the night to deliver babies.’

  ‘Gaius. She’s frightened. She needs me.’

  ‘All right,’ his voice was low. ‘I’ll drive you.’

  ‘Thank you,
my love.’

  ‘Come on, Ferox! Here, boy! Now, where are those useless slaves?’

  ‘No, don’t wake them. They’re fast asleep.’

  ‘Wretched creatures,’ he grumbled. Nubia heard the front door open wide. A moment later a cold draft caressed her cheek and brought in the scent of the vineyard. She heard Ferox panting happily: he and his master were going on a night adventure! The excited panting receded and after a short pause, Nubia heard Miriam’s voice from the tablinum doorway.

  ‘Nubia, Gaius and I are going out. A woman at a nearby estate is about to give birth. Shall I wake Dromo or Senex and have them keep watch?’

  ‘No,’ whispered Nubia. ‘I am not afraid.’

  But afterwards, she wished she had at least asked for Ferox. For when they left the house silent and dark, and the owl began to hoot again, Nubia found herself trembling violently. And she did not fall asleep until Gaius and Miriam returned at dawn.

  ‘Oh!’ groaned Flavia the next morning. ‘Why doesn’t Caudex open the front door? Someone’s been banging on it for ages.’

  She covered her head with a pillow but the knocking continued.

  A moment later she pulled off the pillow, rolled over and opened her eyes. Scuto and Nipur were nowhere to be seen, Nubia’s bed was empty and had not been slept in.

  Suddenly it all came flooding back.

  Nubia was hiding at her uncle’s house, Hephzibah was in a prison cell and her father was in Sicily.

  Or was he? Today was the Nones and he’d said he might be back by then. Once again came the urgent pounding on the front door.

  ‘Pater!’ Flavia scrambled out of bed, pulled off the blue blanket, wrapped it around her like a palla and hurried downstairs.

  But it was not her father at the door; it was Pliny.

  ‘Good news and bad, Flavia Gemina,’ he said, taking a single step into the vestibule. ‘The good news is that they’re going to try Hephzibah’s case in our own basilica, right here in Ostia. The bad news is that the date is set for the day after tomorrow; seven days before the Ides.’