The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  ‘It’s where the caravans stay.’

  ‘Caravans on their way to where?’

  ‘Through the interior, mostly,’ said the harbourmaster.

  ‘And would some of them go to Volubilis?’ asked Jonathan.

  ‘They might. You’d have to ask.’

  ‘How do we get to this caravanserai?’ asked Flavia.

  The harbourmaster stood and beckoned them over to the arched window of his office. To the right loomed the massive lighthouse with its rising plume of black smoke. Before them lay the blue harbour, with the town beyond, orange in the light of the setting sun.

  The harbourmaster pointed. ‘See that turret in the town wall? That’s the Carthage Gate. And see those palm trees beyond, silhouetted against the horizon?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If you go out through the Carthage Gate and walk for half a mile, you’ll reach those date palms. That’s where the caravanserai is. But you’d better hurry. They close the gates at sunset.’

  Nubia smelled the caravanserai before she saw it. The scent of charcoal fires, spices and camel dung came wafting through the date palms on a warm evening breeze. It was such a familiar smell that it almost made her cry.

  ‘Oh,’ said Flavia. ‘I’m famished. I hope we can buy food there.’

  ‘No need to buy food,’ said Nubia. ‘Behold.’ She gestured at the ground. ‘Dates everywhere.’

  ‘Can you just eat them right off the ground?’ asked Flavia. ‘Don’t you have to cure them, like olives?’

  ‘No.’ Nubia picked up a handful of golden-brown dates. ‘Try some.’ She shared them with Flavia and Jonathan, then popped one into her own mouth. It was perfect: not too sweet and with a faint tang.

  ‘They’re delicious,’ agreed Flavia, and spat out the thin stone. ‘But I want some real food. Something savoury, like cold roast chicken. Or bread and salt. Oh, look!’ she cried suddenly. ‘Chestnuts! We can roast these.’ She started to gather some of the round brown objects scattered on the path.

  Nubia giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘No, Flavia,’ she said. ‘Those are not chestnuts. Those are camel droppings.’

  Jonathan snorted and Flavia squealed. ‘Ewww! Camel dung! I touched camel dung!’

  ‘Behold!’ said Nubia, as the road emerged from the grove of date palms. ‘Caravanserai.’

  The setting sun threw the long shadow of the building towards them. The caravanserai was two storeys tall and had a blank white wall pierced by a single arch. As they came closer Nubia could see the plaster was grey rather than white, and peeling. Passing through the arched entrance, they entered a straw-scattered earthen courtyard surrounded by stalls, each one filled with camels, donkeys, even horses. On an upper level above the stalls were rooms, with a wooden balcony running right the way round.

  Nubia inhaled deeply and smiled; the smell of animals, hay and dung always made her irrationally happy.

  In the centre of the courtyard, groups of men sat on grass mats or blankets. Some had already lit fires and were cooking their evening meal.

  ‘Oh, that one smells good,’ said Flavia. As she inhaled, her stomach growled enthusiastically.

  Nubia touched Flavia’s arm and pointed.

  A dark-skinned old man was shuffling towards them across the courtyard. He wore a brown and white striped caftan with long sleeves. On his head was a grubby white skullcap.

  ‘Where his animals?’ he said when he reached them. He spoke in heavily accented Greek.

  ‘Whose animals?’ asked Flavia in the same language.

  ‘His. His.’ The man jabbed his forefinger at her.

  ‘Oh. You mean our animals . . . We don’t have any. No animals.’

  ‘No animals, no stay. Go now. You go.’

  The man reminded Nubia of the old men of her clan and she said in her own language. ‘Please, Grandfather, may we not spend the night? We don’t need a room. We can stay in a stall.’

  The old man’s eyes widened. ‘You speak my language!’ he cried. ‘What clan are you from?’

  Nubia clapped softly and let her knees bend. ‘I am Shepenwepet of the Leopard Clan. My father was Nastasen.’

  ‘My name is also Nastasen!’ He revealed pink toothless gums in a wide grin. ‘But I am of the Hyena Clan.’

  ‘Please, Nastasen of the Hyena Clan. May we stay here tonight?’

  He beamed at her and nodded. ‘I have a little room up there. For special guests.’ He turned and pointed to the southeast corner of the balcony. ‘The one with the green door. As you have no animals, I will only charge you one sestertius each. That includes stew for dinner and bread and dates for breakfast.’

  ‘Thank you, Grandfather.’ Nubia clapped and bowed again.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ cried Flavia. ‘Can we stay here?’

  Nubia looked up from undoing her coin-purse and smiled. ‘Yes. He is of my people. He says we may stay.’

  ‘Oh, praise Juno!’ breathed Flavia.

  Nubia placed three sesterces in the old man’s calloused palm. He nodded his thanks and gave her three clay beads, each the size of an olive. ‘Give these balls to the cook.’ He pointed at a man standing over a cauldron, serving a queue of men. ‘He will give you stew. Wine is extra.’

  ‘Thank you, Grandfather,’ said Nubia.

  ‘Nubia!’ hissed Flavia. ‘Ask him if any of these people are going to Volubilis.’

  ‘Tell me, Nastasen of the Hyena Clan,’ said Nubia. ‘Are any caravans going to a place called Volubilis?’

  The old man showed his gums again, and nodded. ‘Yes, indeed.’ He pointed towards a man in an indigo blue turban. ‘Macargus over there has a caravan of thirty camels. They are leaving for Volubilis tomorrow.’

  ‘I hope this one speaks Latin,’ said Flavia to Jonathan and Nubia, as they approached the man in the dark blue turban. He was sitting with two other men around a small charcoal fire.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Flavia in Latin. ‘Are you Macargus?’

  The man turned a cheerful face towards her. ‘Yes. I am being Macargus,’ he replied, in fair Latin.

  ‘Are you going to Volubilis tomorrow?’

  He nodded and grinned, revealing a front tooth that overlapped the others. ‘Once again, you are correct!’

  ‘We would like to go to Volubilis, too,’ said Flavia politely. ‘May we come with you?’

  ‘Yes. Please, sit! We shall discuss this.’ Beneath his indigo turban and above his short, dark beard he had dark eyes in a copper-coloured face.

  Flavia and her friends sat cross-legged on the striped blanket beside him. They nodded politely at the other two, a man in black from turban to toe, and a greeneyed youth in a white turban and brown caftan.

  ‘Have sage tea,’ said Macargus, and nodded to his younger companion. Green-eyes poured out three small glasses of sage tea.

  ‘How much would it cost us to travel with you?’ asked Flavia, accepting a glass.

  ‘No, no, no.’ Macargus waved his hand in front of his face as if he were brushing away a fly. ‘We speaking business in a moment. First, we must drinking tea and eating tasty morsel.’ He offered her a bowl of something that looked like dates.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Flavia with a sigh, and accepted one of the tasty morsels. It was both salty and sweet. Crunchy, too. Macargus offered the bowl to Jonathan and Nubia, who both accepted.

  Flavia sipped her tea while Macargus nodded at them and smiled. Jonathan was the last to finish. Finally he put down his empty glass.

  ‘For you,’ said Macargus, ‘The cost of caravan to Volubilis is being five hundred sesterces each.’

  Flavia choked on a tasty morsel and Jonathan had to pat her back.

  ‘This price,’ said Macargus cheerfully, ‘is including use of a camel and all your meals, plus your guide and protection.’ He gave a little bow. ‘That is being me. I am very good guide. Making this journey many times.’

  Flavia glanced at Nubia and Jonathan. ‘We can pay you when we get to Volubilis,’ she said
. ‘But we don’t have any money now.’

  ‘Oh, I am most sorry,’ said Macargus. ‘But I am only accepting payment in advance. Here.’ He held out the bowl. ‘Have another tasty morsel.’

  ‘We can pay you ten sesterces each now,’ said Flavia, ‘and one thousand when we get to Volubilis. Each,’ she added, as the man smiled and shook his head.

  ‘Our money is in our bags,’ explained Jonathan. ‘But they’re all on board the merchant ship Aphrodite along with our friend Lupus. We’re meeting him in Volubilis and we hope our bags will be waiting when we get there. If we get there.’

  ‘We can pay you then,’ said Flavia. ‘Three thousand sesterces.’

  ‘I am most sorry,’ said Macargus, ‘truly most sorry. But I do not believe you are having this money.’

  ‘You don’t—? Can’t you tell we’re highborn?’

  He smiled apologetically. ‘Most sorry.’ He pointed at Nubia. ‘But she is looking like a slave, he is looking like a Jew, and you are looking like a beggar. You are not appearing to have even one as between you.’

  ‘Anyone can see we have three asses,’ muttered Jonathan under his breath.

  Green-eyes chuckled.

  Flavia tried to control her temper. ‘But I am freeborn!’ she said. ‘See my bulla?’ But even as she spoke, her heart sank. The amulet proving she was freeborn had been stolen from the baths, along with her other possessions. Then she felt a surge of hope as her fingers touched the ivory rectangle on its cord. In his letter, Titus had instructed them to never take them off. ‘Jonathan! Nubia!’ she cried. ‘We forgot all about our imperial passes! Look!’ she said excitedly to Macargus. ‘We have imperial passes. These mean you should take us for free.’

  He smiled and nodded. ‘Most sorry, but I do not understand. First you are offering me three thousand sesterces to take you. Now you are saying you won’t pay anything?’

  ‘No. Yes. I mean: the Emperor will pay you back.’

  Macargus looked at Green-eyes who shrugged and said in good Latin. ‘I’ve never heard of anything like that.’

  Macargus leaned forward and squinted at the ivory tags. ‘They are being small flat pieces of elephant tooth with scratchings on them.’ He tapped her pass with his fingernail.

  ‘It’s not scratchings. It’s writing. Can any of you read?’

  They shook their heads.

  ‘Well, it says the Emperor will reimburse you.’

  ‘Reimburse? What is reimburse?’

  ‘Pay you back. Cover our costs.’

  ‘Excuse my confusion,’ said Macargus. ‘Do I understand you are saying Vespasian is coming to Volubilis and giving me three thousand sesterces?’

  ‘Titus,’ said Flavia in a small voice. ‘The Emperor is Titus.’

  ‘Ha ha ha,’ chuckled Macargus. ‘Now I know you are joking. Leader of the great Roman Empire is Vespasian.’

  ‘Don’t cry, Flavia,’ said Jonathan. ‘You’ll think of something.’

  It was a purple evening, and the three of them were sitting cross-legged in the dusty courtyard of the caravanserai. Each of them had a wooden bowl of stew, which they had to eat with their fingers.

  ‘Our imperial passes are useless,’ sobbed Flavia. ‘Nobody’s seen Uncle Gaius, we’ve lost Lupus and we’re stranded in Africa with no money!’

  Nubia stroked Flavia’s back. ‘At least we are having a place to sleep tonight,’ she said, ‘with hot stew for dinner.’

  Jonathan nodded. ‘And also these tasty morsels,’ he said. ‘It was nice of Macargus to give us some. Here, Flavia: take one.’

  Flavia blew her nose and took a tasty morsel. Jonathan took one, too.

  ‘I wonder what they are,’ he said, chewing thoughtfully. ‘They taste slightly fishy. Like shrimp.’

  ‘Locusts,’ said Nubia. ‘These are being roast locusts.’

  ‘Locusts?’ said Jonathan, gagging. ‘You mean locusts, as in insects? Like grasshoppers?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nubia. ‘But bigger than grasshoppers. They are eaten in my country. Also stew of baby camel. Like this.’ She pointed at the stew in her bowl.

  ‘Bleccch!’ cried Flavia, spitting her mouthful onto the dust. ‘I’m eating bugs! And poor little baby camel!’

  ‘Hark!’ said Nubia, putting down her bowl. ‘I hear music. Do you hear it?’

  ‘Oh, who cares!’ cried Flavia, and she threw her bowl of stew in the dust. Immediately a mangy white dog slunk forward and began to devour it with furtive gulps.

  ‘It is pantomime troupe of yesterday,’ said Nubia. ‘I recognise voice of aulos and harp.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Jonathan. ‘Look. They’re up there on the balcony.’

  In the courtyard of the caravanserai the hubbub died away and all eyes turned to the musicians standing on the upper level. Jonathan saw two of the musicians from the previous day’s pantomime, one on the double reed, the other on harp. Then a smattering of applause broke out as a masked boy in a green tunic did four somersaults onto the torchlit balcony, then leapt up onto the rail. Here he clowned and danced on the narrow railing, while the merchants and camel drivers laughed and gasped and applauded below. The musicians played a jaunty tune.

  Down in the courtyard, the dark-haired singer was coming round with a tambourine that made a jingly sound each time someone dropped in a coin. She was a plain girl with a large nose and dark frizzy hair pulled back in a bun. She reminded Jonathan of someone, but he couldn’t think whom.

  Meanwhile, up on the balcony there was a flourish of music. With a final flip off the rail and back onto the balcony, the boy in the sea green tunic removed his mask and bowed.

  ‘Master of the Universe,’ gasped Jonathan, squinting into the gloom. ‘I think that’s Lupus!’

  Lupus was just as surprised to see them as they were to see him. At their shouts he scrambled over the balcony rail, dangled for a moment, then dropped ten feet to the ground and ran to throw his arms around Flavia’s waist.

  ‘Lupus!’ cried Flavia, not sure whether to be angry or relieved. But when she saw the tears gleaming in his eyes she knew he hadn’t run away deliberately. Lupus gave Nubia and Jonathan a fierce hug, too. Now he was writing on his wax-tablet with a shaking hand.

  WENT TO SHIP, he wrote, BUT YOU WEREN’T THERE. I CAME OFF TO LOOK FOR YOU. THEN IT SAILED WITHOUT ME! I THOUGHT YOU MUST HAVE GONE ON BOARD.

  ‘Oh, poor Lupus!’ cried Nubia. ‘You think we are forgetting you.’

  He nodded and angrily brushed tears away with his fist.

  ‘And we thought you were on board!’ said Flavia.

  ‘What did you do next?’ Jonathan asked Lupus. ‘How did you end up here?’

  I FOUND NARCISSUS AND ASKED IF I COULD TRAVEL WITH HIM TO VOLUBILIS. HE SAID YES BUT THAT I WOULD HAVE TO EARN MY WAY.

  ‘They are going to Volubilis, with caravan of Macargus?’ cried Nubia.

  Lupus nodded and wrote: I THOUGHT I COULD FIND YOU WHEN I GOT THERE.

  ‘Lupus,’ said Flavia. ‘All our money is on board the Aphrodite. We’ve only got a few sesterces left between us. Do you have any money?’

  Lupus hung his head and wrote:

  I SAW MY BAG ON BOARD SHIP NEXT TO YOURS.

  ‘Master of the Universe,’ said Jonathan. ‘Maybe that ship didn’t accidentally sail without us. Between us, we had nearly eight thousand sesterces in our luggage. They probably left on purpose so they could steal our things.’

  ‘Or maybe someone knew about our secret mission for Titus,’ hissed Flavia. ‘And tried to sabotage us!’

  ‘Whatever the reason,’ said Jonathan, ‘the four of us are stuck here with no money. We can’t even get home again.’

  ‘Wait!’ cried Flavia. ‘Maybe Narcissus will take all of us! Nubia plays the flute beautifully and Jonathan can play the barbiton. And I can bang a tambourine. If he took on Lupus then he might take us, too.’

  Jonathan turned to Lupus. ‘I don’t suppose Narcissus will let us join his troupe, too?’

  Lupus shrugged, then wi
ggled his hand as if to say: maybe, maybe not.

  TWO OF HIS OTHER MUSICIANS STAYED BEHIND he wrote. ONE HELPED BACKSTAGE. I AM THE NEW DRUMMER AND BACKSTAGE HELPER.

  ‘I could do that,’ said Jonathan. ‘I could help backstage.’

  ‘Let’s ask him,’ said Flavia. ‘We’ve got to get to Volubilis. Even if our money isn’t there when we arrive, the magistrate will recognise our imperial passes and honour them.’

  Flavia sent up a quick prayer to Diana as she and her friends approached Narcissus. The dancer and his troupe were reclining on striped blankets around a charcoal fire. It was dark now, and a million stars were twinkling overhead.

  Narcissus was shorter than he appeared on stage, with shoulder length blond hair and a muscular body. Flavia guessed he was about thirty years old. He did not even look up as they approached. ‘Sorry,’ he said, spitting a date stone over his shoulder. ‘No locks of hair and no pieces of clothing. And absolutely no autographs.’

  ‘We’re not fans,’ said Flavia. ‘We’re musicians.’

  ‘Musicians?’ He turned and looked up at her with kohl-rimmed blue eyes. He had a straight nose and full lips, and in the soft light of the fire he was almost beautiful. It was no wonder he was called Narcissus, after the mythical youth so beautiful that everyone who saw him fell in love with him.

  Flavia realised her jaw was hanging open. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath. She must not allow herself to be affected by his good looks. After all, she had consecrated herself to Diana and renounced romance.

  ‘We’re musicians,’ she repeated. ‘I play tambourine, Jonathan plays barbiton and Nubia plays flute. We need to get to Volubilis but we have no money and we wondered if we could join your troupe? We’re friends of Lupus here,’ she added.

  ‘If you’re musicians, then where are your instruments?’

  ‘Several hundred miles away by now,’ muttered Jonathan under his breath.

  ‘We don’t actually have them with us,’ said Flavia. ‘We think we were robbed. We were going to sail on the merchant ship Aphrodite to Volubilis, but then it sailed without us.’

  Narcissus snorted suavely. ‘Volubilis is inland. You can’t sail there.’