The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection

by Lawrence, Caroline

  ‘Not sure,’ said the man cheerfully. ‘Prophet, philosopher, magician, healer. These days Asia is crawling with them; we get one coming through every month or so. But I never go to see them. If I went in with the others, I’d never earn a mite, would I?’ He gave them a gap-toothed grin and carried on pushing his cart up towards the theatre.

  Nubia took a tentative bite of her sesame-seed ring: it was still warm and it was delicious, but after she swallowed it sat like a pebble in her stomach. She put the rest in her belt-pouch for later.

  Lupus was clowning for them, pretending to wear his bread-ring as a bracelet.

  Jonathan glared at him. ‘Stop playing the fool,’ he wheezed. ‘If you aren’t going to eat that, give it to me.’

  Lupus glared at him and defiantly took a bite, but he didn’t chew carefully enough and had a coughing fit as it went down the wrong way.

  Jonathan gave him a violent smack between the shoulder blades. This action successfully dislodged the piece of bread, but the force of the blow was so great that it brought tears to Lupus’s eyes.

  ‘Jonathan,’ gasped Nubia. ‘You hit Lupus too hard.’

  ‘Yes, Jonathan,’ said Flavia. ‘What’s got into you these past days? You’ve always been a pessimist but you’ve never been mean before.’

  ‘Jonathan,’ said Nubia. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Jonathan silenced her with a glare and they followed Aristo up the hill in silence. The houses here were all whitewashed and some had colourful flower boxes on the upper floor balconies.

  A moment later, they emerged into an open space and Nubia’s eyes grew wide.

  A crowd of excited citizens seethed around the theatre entrance like bees on a honeycomb. Standing a little apart from the crowd was a group of emaciated figures in rags; they stared longingly at the theatre.

  ‘Careful,’ said Aristo, panting a little. ‘They’re lepers. If you touch them, you’ll catch their disease.’ He mopped his sweating forehead and neck with a handkerchief.

  The lepers stood in silence but many others in the crowd were crying and pleading to be let in.

  ‘Help me go in!’ Nubia heard a woman cry. ‘I need him to heal me!’

  ‘My daughter’s ill,’ sobbed a man, carrying a little girl in his arms. ‘Let us through. Please!’

  ‘He’s just a trickster!’ grumbled an old man at the edge of the crowd.

  ‘Sour grapes,’ cackled another. ‘You’re just saying that because they won’t let you in. I’ve heard he makes the deaf hear and the dumb talk.’

  Nubia glanced at Lupus to see if he had heard the man’s words. The magician in the theatre could make the dumb talk.

  Lupus stood staring towards the theatre, his arms slack and his bread-ring in one hand, forgotten. She saw the gleam of hope in his eyes and her heart melted for him.

  Lupus saw men and women tugging at people’s garments, pleading to be let through. The magician was in the theatre, apparently making the blind see, the deaf hear and the dumb talk. Lupus handed his half-eaten sesame-ring to Nubia and dropped onto his hands and knees. He tried to crawl through the forest of legs, but the crowd was too dense. He was jostled, shoved and kicked. When a fat man nearly brought his hobnailed boot down onto Lupus’s hand, he retreated and limped back to where his friends were waiting. He was no longer a scrawny beggar boy living wild in Ostia’s graveyard. Two years of eating proper meals and sleeping in a soft warm bed had added a foot to his height and given him bulk.

  Lupus shaded his eyes against the bright noonday sun and glanced around. There had to be another way to get in there. Or at least to see what was happening.

  The theatre was at the outskirts of town, on a hillside. On the western side of the theatre stood three tall poplar trees. Lupus tugged Aristo’s tunic, pointed to the nearest poplar and imitated climbing.

  ‘You want a leg up?’ asked Aristo.

  Lupus grunted yes.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ said Flavia. ‘I don’t think there’s any other way to see what’s happening in there.’

  ‘All right,’ said Aristo with a sigh. ‘But don’t fall out.’

  The five of them were climbing the hill towards the poplar trees when they heard a bellow like that of a wounded ox. Lupus and the others turned back to see a huge man forcing his way out of the theatre and through the seething mass. The man was so tall that his head and shoulders rose above the crowd as he pushed towards them.

  Suddenly Lupus grunted in disbelief as he recognised the giant. It was Ursus, the big mute bodyguard who had pursued him around the fallen Colossus of Rhodes the year before.

  Ursus’s mouth was open in a horrifying grin and his eyes were fixed in a maniacal stare. He was bellowing at the top of his lungs and now that he was free of the screaming crowd, he was running straight towards them.

  Nubia felt Aristo grasp her shoulder. ‘Quickly!’ he cried. ‘Behind this altar!’

  He pulled her back with one hand and Flavia with the other and they crouched behind the altar with Jonathan and Lupus.

  Nubia could hear the giant’s roar getting closer and closer. She leaned back against Aristo’s shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling a strange mixture of euphoria and fear: euphoria from being so close to Aristo and fear of the yelling man.

  The bellowing giant was almost upon them. Nubia could feel Aristo’s heart pounding against her back. The smell of blood and charred flesh from the remains of the lamb on the altar made her feel dizzy and she thought she might swoon in his arms again.

  But now the giant had passed by, and already the sound of his cry was getting fainter as he disappeared around a corner.

  ‘What was that?’ wheezed Jonathan, standing up and shading his eyes to gaze in the direction the giant had gone.

  ‘Who was that?’ said Flavia.

  Nubia gratefully clung to Aristo’s arm as he helped her rise to her feet; she still felt dizzy.

  Lupus dipped his finger in a trickle of blood dripping down the side of the altar and wrote on the white marble: URSUS. BODYGUARD OF MAGNUS.

  ‘The one who tried to kill you in Rhodes?’ asked Jonathan.

  Lupus nodded and wiped his finger on his tunic. Then he pointed urgently in the direction the giant had gone and beckoned them on.

  ‘What?’ cried Aristo. ‘You want us to follow him?’

  Lupus nodded vigorously and Flavia cried, ‘Yes! Ursus worked for Magnus, and Magnus worked for Biggest Buyer. If we follow him, he might lead us to the kidnapped children. And maybe to Popo.’

  Aristo hesitated.

  ‘The gods have answered our prayers,’ said Flavia. ‘They led us right to him.’

  Nubia caught Aristo’s hand and gazed up into his beautiful face. ‘This is our chance,’ she pleaded. ‘Our chance to help the children.’

  ‘All right then,’ he said, giving her hand a squeeze in return. ‘Come on.’

  *

  The oven-hot streets of Halicarnassus were still deserted, and it was easy to track Ursus through the western part of the city to the Myndus Gate. Unveiled women were still leaning out of upstairs windows and children stared open-mouthed in the direction he had gone. As they passed through the shaded arch of the town gate, Flavia caught sight of a man in a straw sunhat sitting in the shade of an olive tree, between two tombs. His two-wheeled mule cart stood nearby.

  ‘Have you just seen a giant running by?’ she asked, speaking Latin in her excitement.

  The man looked up from carving a piece of cheese and stared at her blankly.

  ‘Have you just seen a giant running past?’ asked Aristo in Greek.

  The man nodded and stood up and pointed west. He wore a sleeveless tunic and his skin was very brown; he was obviously a farmer. ‘Just a few moments ago,’ he said, also in Greek. ‘He was heading down the Myndus road.’

  ‘Is that your chariot?’ asked Flavia in Greek. She couldn’t remember the Greek word for cart.

  ‘Yes,’ he grinned. ‘And that’s my brave steed. We’ve just been t
o the market to unload some heroic watermelons.’

  ‘I’ll pay you two drachmas if you take us in your cart and help us catch him,’ said Aristo.

  ‘I’ll do it for four,’ said the farmer.

  ‘Done,’ said Aristo. He gave the man a silver tetradrachm. Flavia knew it was one of his last coins, and as they all climbed up into the cart, she offered a silent prayer to Castor and Pollux for more funds.

  The farmer flicked his mule into a trot. It was only a two-wheeled vegetable cart and the four friends and their tutor had to stand crowded together and clutching at the wooden sides.

  As they left Halicarnassus behind them, Flavia looked around. The sun blazed in a pure blue sky and the air shimmered with heat. The cart rode almost silently on the dusty verge of the road, and she could hear the throb of cicadas that filled the silvery-green olive trees beyond the tombs lining the road out of town. Apart from the strong scent of thyme, and the Greek inscriptions on the tombs, they might have been on one of the roads outside Rome. She felt a pang of homesickness. Would she ever get back home to her beloved Ostia?

  Suddenly Lupus grunted and pointed.

  ‘Yes!’ cried Flavia, shading her eyes with her hand. ‘There he is! I can see him running up ahead!’

  ‘Great Juno’s beard,’ muttered Jonathan. ‘He’s been running for half an hour without stopping. Is he mad?’

  ‘I thought he was going to attack us back there by the theatre,’ said Flavia. ‘Didn’t you, Lupus?’

  Without taking his eyes from the distant figure trembling in the heat haze on the road ahead, Lupus nodded.

  ‘I’m sure Ursus saw us,’ said Jonathan. ‘He was looking right at us.’

  Lupus nodded again.

  ‘So why did he run past us?’ mused Flavia.

  Lupus shrugged.

  ‘Maybe he wasn’t after us,’ said Flavia. ‘Maybe he was chasing someone else.’

  ‘Maybe he wasn’t after anyone,’ said Jonathan. ‘He looked berserk.’

  ‘He looked terrified,’ said Flavia.

  Nubia was frowning thoughtfully. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not terrified. Happy.’

  The three of them turned to stare at Nubia.

  ‘Happy?’ said Flavia in disbelief. ‘You thought he looked happy?’

  ‘Crazy happy?’ ventured Nubia.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ snorted Flavia, and she tapped Aristo’s shoulder. ‘Ask the driver to slow down a little. We don’t want Ursus to see us following him.’

  Aristo nodded and repeated Flavia’s request in Greek. The farmer pulled slightly on the reins and the mule slowed.

  ‘Behold!’ said Nubia presently. ‘The giant goes off from the road.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Flavia. ‘He’s cutting across the field. Look. There’s a villa over there. See the red tiles of the roof just peeking above the olive trees on the hillside?’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Aristo. ‘That double row of cypress trees further ahead marks a road leading up to an estate. That must be where he’s going.’

  Lupus tugged the back of Aristo’s tunic. He pointed after Ursus, who had disappeared into an olive grove. Then Lupus pointed at himself.

  ‘You want to follow him on foot?’

  Lupus nodded and as the cart slowed he leapt off and started across the scrubby field after Ursus.

  ‘Lupus!’ called Aristo. ‘We’ll meet you at the turning! At the place where the tree-lined drive begins! In an hour!’

  Without turning around, Lupus gave them a thumbs-up.

  ‘Be careful!’ cried Aristo, and shook his head. ‘I don’t like it,’ he muttered, as the farmer flicked his mule into motion again. ‘I don’t like him going after that giant by himself.’

  ‘Lupus will be all right,’ said Flavia, then added under her breath. ‘Please Juno, may Lupus be all right.’ She looked at Aristo. ‘What’s our plan?’

  But before Aristo could answer, Nubia pointed.

  ‘Behold!’ she said. ‘I see a carruca waiting in shadow of trees!’

  ‘Strange,’ muttered Jonathan. ‘They look like soldiers.’

  Flavia squinted and shaded her eyes. ‘The sun’s so bright,’ she murmured.

  ‘Here,’ said the farmer in Greek. ‘Have my hat.’ He removed his straw sunhat and put it on Flavia’s head.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Flavia. ‘That does help.’

  They were closer now and she could see a carruca standing in the shadows of the cypress trees. Half a dozen soldiers were coming down off it, directed by a short man with a patrician toga and thinning hair. Even from a distance he looked familiar. Then the man in the toga turned; and she instantly recognised his pale eyes.

  ‘Great Juno’s peacock!’ she gasped. ‘It’s Ostia’s magistrate, Marcus Artorius Bato.’

  ‘Flavia Gemina and company!’ Bato raised his eyebrows. ‘Why am I not surprised to find you here, alive and well despite all reports to the contrary?’

  The farmer had let them off at the turning of the tree-lined avenue, and now they stood before Bato and his men.

  ‘We’re here to find a criminal mastermind,’ said Flavia, ‘and to rescue some kidnapped children.’ She spoke as coldly as possible. Half a year ago Bato had slandered them all in court. He had called Flavia a big-nosed busybody.

  ‘And what?’ said Bato drily. ‘You were going to charge in with your little army here?’ He glanced at her hat. ‘Disguised as a farmer? I’ve got an imperial mandate. What have you got?’ Bato mopped his high forehead with a handkerchief. He looked hot and irritated.

  Flavia opened her mouth and then closed it again.

  ‘You’ve got an imperial mandate?’ said Aristo.

  Bato sighed, nodded and pulled a slender parchment scroll from his belt. ‘This allows me to question all the slaves, and to take away any we suspect might be freeborn. If we find even one who has been illegally imprisoned, or the least evidence of suppressio, then we can arrest the owner of this villa.’

  ‘Euge!’ breathed Nubia, clapping her hands. ‘We can set free the captured children.’

  ‘Not so fast,’ said Flavia, holding up a hand to stop Nubia and narrowing her eyes at Bato. ‘You can’t arrest someone unless a private citizen is willing to take them to court. I learned that last year.’

  Bato sighed deeply. ‘Your father and I intend to take him to court,’ he said, ‘and we hope to return the captured children to their families.’

  ‘Pater?’ Flavia’s anger at Bato instantly evaporated. ‘You’re here with pater?’

  Bato nodded. ‘He helped fund this expedition.’

  ‘Where is he?’ Flavia looked eagerly around.

  ‘He went to Rhodes to investigate the report of a baby who might be his little nephew.’

  ‘Pater went to Rhodes? When?’

  ‘Two days ago.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ cried Flavia. ‘We thought he was in Halicarnassus. That’s why we came here.’ She felt the tears well up. Her hopes of seeing him had been so high, but now she wondered if she would ever see him again.

  ‘Do you think Popo is in Rhodes?’ asked Jonathan.

  Bato shook his head. ‘It was just a rumour of a report. It’s more likely that your little nephew is with the other kidnapped children in that villa.’ He nodded down the tree-lined lane towards the villa. ‘It belongs to a man called Lucius Mindius Faustus. We think Mindius is behind the kidnappings of the past few years.’

  ‘Mindius?’ said Flavia. ‘Don’t you mean Magnus?’

  ‘Magnus was working for Mindius,’ said Bato. ‘Mindius is the mastermind behind most of the illegal slave trade in the Roman Empire.’

  ‘He’s Biggest Buyer?’ breathed Flavia.

  ‘We’re almost certain of it. We were going to raid him next week, but when I heard a popular travelling prophet was going to be in town today, I decided to do it today.’

  ‘Can we do something to help?’ asked Jonathan.

  Bato shook his head. ‘Our plan worked. Look. The gates are lying wide o
pen. All his guards must have gone to the theatre.’

  ‘Like Ursus!’ cried Flavia. ‘He was at the theatre.’

  Bato gave her a sharp look. ‘Ursus?’ he said. ‘The big mute giant?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jonathan. ‘We saw him running this way a short time ago, bellowing like a bull.’

  Bato’s face grew pale. ‘Did he see you?’

  The friends glanced at each other.

  ‘Yes,’ said Flavia in a small voice.

  ‘We’ve been planning this raid for days,’ said Bato from between clenched teeth. ‘Mindius and Ursus know your faces and they know mine. I’ve been careful not to let either of them see me.’ He glared at Flavia. ‘It took a lot of time and money to obtain this warrant. If Ursus saw you and suspected a raid, if the abducted children have been taken somewhere else, and if we lose our chance to rescue them, then it will be your fault.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Flavia weakly.

  ‘Oh, yes, Flavia Gemina. Oh, yes.’

  The large, cool atrium of the opulent villa was deserted. It was so quiet that Nubia could hear a fountain splashing somewhere deeper inside and the cicadas creaking in the olive groves outside. There was a faint smell of incense and the strong smell of lavender.

  Bato led his clinking soldiers quickly around the shallow impluvium and into an inner garden. As Nubia and the others hurried after him, she offered up a silent prayer: Please let the children be here!

  The garden’s centrepiece was a splashing fountain surrounded by beds of fragrant herbs planted in diamonds and circle patterns. A columned and shaded walkway surrounded the garden, with a dozen rooms giving onto it.

  As Bato and his men began to search these rooms, Nubia thought she saw a small movement behind a lavender bush near the fountain. She stepped into the blazing light and heat of the garden, then crouched down and addressed the shrub.

  ‘Come out,’ she whispered in Greek. ‘We will not hurt you.’

  The lavender bush did not reply.

  ‘We will not hurt you.’ This time she said it in Latin, and the bush stirred slightly.

  ‘The soldiers will not hurt you either,’ Nubia continued in Latin. ‘They just want to take you home.’