A Coin for the Ferryman

by Rosemary Rowe

  He was evidently more afraid of the Lemures than I would have guessed. He looked quite pale and shaken as he turned to Stygius. ‘This is the news that you were speaking of? The information that I didn’t have to share?’

  The sudden question caught the land slave unaware. The tone had been intimidating, too – Lucius might have been talking to a dog – and Stygius was slow-thinking at the best of times. It took a little while before he faltered into speech. ‘Excellence, I meant no disrespect. The situation is an embarrassment for my master, that is all. And the mistress too, of course. We found a body dressed in peasant’s clothes, when we were clearing land. We brought it here for funeral. We don’t know who it is.’

  Once again, I found I was impressed by Stygius. He thought slowly, but he thought to some effect. He had managed to give an outline which was accurate enough, but minimised drama as far as possible.

  Lucius was looking much relieved. ‘A peasant? Well, that’s not too serious, I suppose.’ He turned to Julia. ‘What will you do with it? Put it on a funeral pyre at once? That would be wise, I think – dispose of it before the Lemuria begins. You can find out afterwards who the family was – if any information comes to light – and show them where you put the ashes, so they can tend the urn. Nobody could ask any more of you than to give the corpse a proper funeral – even the spirits should be satisfied.’

  Julia nodded. She looked quite relieved. She would have been glad, I think, to take her lead from Lucius in this and solve the problem by cremating it – though of course the matter was more complicated than Lucius could guess. ‘You are a comfort, cousin,’ she began. ‘No doubt you are right. Stygius, go and—’ But she got no further. Marcus and his entourage were entering the room.

  He had changed his toga for a coloured synthesis – that combination of tunic and draped material which had become his dress of choice at home. The drapes provided the dignity that a toga gives, without the inconvenience of managing those heavy, awkward folds. In fact Marcus had set a little fashion locally: these days every citizen who could afford it wore a synthesis at home, not only when they dined, but increasingly at other times as well. This one was pale orange. It gave him the appearance of a temple augurer, I thought, especially as he was attended by a pair of matching slaves.

  When he spoke, he sounded like an augur-reader too. ‘I have just seen what is outside, in the stable block. One of the servants showed me. You are aware of it, Julia, I suppose?’

  ‘A peasant,’ Lucius began. ‘We were just discussing the cremation pyre.’

  Marcus snorted. ‘Peasant? He’s no more a peasant than I am – though I understand that he was dressed as one. You found him, Stygius?’

  Stygius, who had come to Julia’s side, waiting for his instructions, slowly turned. ‘I did, master. On that land we were clearing for this young citizen.’ He gestured towards Junio.

  Lucius was looking quite astonished now. He turned to Marcus. ‘The piece of land you pointed out to me the other day? But what was the body doing over there? Surely it was a patch of forest where nobody would go?’

  Marcus shrugged. ‘Somebody saw we’d cut some standing timber down, concluded that we’d finished harvesting the wood, and decided it would make a good hiding place, perhaps – not realising that we were about to clear the area completely for a building plot.’ He spoke as though he had been actively involved in felling trees himself, instead of merely giving orders that it should be done.

  That would make a kind of sense, I thought, remembering the sledge of chopped wood near the stable block. Yet it was an explanation which had not occurred to me – for reasons which I hastened to express. ‘But even if there weren’t land slaves over at the site – and once you’d cut the timber there weren’t until today – we could see the area from the roundhouse all the time. During the hours of daylight, anyway.’

  Junio looked mournfully at me. ‘There was one day, Father, when that was not the case. You took the whole household into town, as I recall, and we did not return to the roundhouse until dark.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘Two days ago.’ The day of my painful visit to the barber, while Gwellia and the slaves went hurrying round the town, visiting the fuller to collect the laundered clothes, and making all the other last-minute preparations for today. ‘Then almost certainly that was when the deed was done.’

  Junio looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose it must have been. It wouldn’t be at night. Lighted torches would be too much of a risk – anyone might see them from the roundhouse, or even from the road – and one couldn’t do without them. Anyway, what with wolves and bears and darkness, the forest is always very dangerous after dark. So I think you’re right. It must have been that day.’

  I nodded. ‘And we can guess that the man who hid the body there must be a stranger in these parts.’

  Lucius had been listening with a disdainful face, as if such grisly matters were beneath contempt, but he pounced like an arena lion on these words. ‘What makes you say that, citizen?’ he asked. It was the first time since he had arrived in the atrium that he had addressed a word to me, despite our collusion in the courtroom earlier. Obviously the offering in my purse had not impressed him overmuch. Now, however, his blue eyes were fixed piercingly on me, though his expression still suggested that my opinions – like myself – were unlikely to be of any great account.

  ‘Anybody hereabouts would know the site was being cleared, and that the body was likely to be found. If he’d visited the villa, he would certainly have heard.’ I summoned up a smile. ‘News travels like lightning in any household full of slaves.’

  Lucius managed to convey, without a word, that he was unimpressed. I was tempted to point out that I had firsthand experience, but I sensed that Lucius would be even less impressed if he realised that I’d once been a slave myself. I noticed that he was studiously ignoring Junio, who had been fictitiously his servant for an hour.

  ‘Indeed,’ I went on, ‘look what happened in the villa here today. His Excellence had scarcely got back to the house before one of the servants had told him all about the corpse. When I arrived it was clearly common knowledge among the slaves – I believe they were laying bets about how soon we’d solve the crime – yet I don’t imagine that Julia had mentioned it to many of the staff.’

  ‘I was careful to say as little to them as possible.’ Julia was looking horrified.

  Marcus glanced around, as if observing for the first time that the room was full of slaves. I have warned him before about his tendency to forget that they are there, silent listeners to everything that’s said and not mere items of household furniture. ‘But they have ears, I suppose.’ He waved a hand at them. ‘Be off, the lot of you. You can wait outside the door. Except you, Niveus. You can bring me another cup and a chair – and one for my cousin Lucius as well. And Stygius, you can go back and guard the corpse.’

  There was a startled moment as the servants filed away.

  When she was sure that only we five citizens remained Julia looked ruefully at me. ‘You mean that the whole villa will know of it by now?’

  ‘More than the villa, by this time, I should think. Unless you have instructed your slaves to be discreet, I imagine they will be abuzz with it and chattering to any tradesman who might call.’

  She was looking stricken. ‘We had some olive oil delivered just before you came. And I sent a slave to Glevum to hire dancers for tonight.’

  ‘Then almost certainly the news has reached the town,’ I said. I could see that she was shaken, and I went on soothingly, ‘But anyway, as I understand it, you have sent your land slaves out to make enquiries in the area about a missing girl. You can hardly expect the matter to be secret very long – and you want the family to claim the corpse if possible.’

  ‘Girl?’ That was Lucius again. ‘I thought it was a youth?’

  ‘The land slaves supposed it was a girl at first,’ Marcus said shortly. ‘Because of the peasant dress, I suppose. However, it appears that in fact it is a male
. Libertus can tell you – he discovered that.’

  ‘Really?’ Lucius turned to me suspiciously. ‘How did you come to be involved?’

  Marcus laughed. ‘I assume that Julia asked him. I would have done the same myself. I always call on him, if there’s a mystery to solve. He has a mosaic-maker’s brain and sees the patterns that other men might miss.’

  Lucius looked more disapproving than ever. ‘Of course! I’d forgotten that you were a tradesman, citizen.’

  ‘An artist,’ Julia said, and would have earned my gratitude and love on the spot if she had not already had them both. ‘And very clever too. He has helped to solve a number of unpleasant crimes, and has even uncovered several plots against the state. He once received a personal reward from Pertinax himself.’ She saw the expression of surprise, and pressed the point. ‘That’s right – the Pertinax who was the Governor of Britannia once – the same Prefect of Rome that you’re so proud to know.’

  ‘I see. Then I salute the citizen.’ Lucius’s expression did not change a whit. ‘Obviously, Marcus, he is the proper person to advise on how you should deal with this unwelcome corpse. Myself, I should have counselled that you put it on the pyre – as I was saying to your charming lady here – before the Festival of the Dead begins. But obviously you don’t need my advice. I leave it to Libertus, who’s accustomed to such things.’ His condescending little smile did nothing to mask the harsh, sarcastic tone.

  My patron, however, did not rise to the bait. He pretended to accept what Lucius had said as a genuine compliment to my aptitude. ‘Then, since there is to be a banquet later on, perhaps you would care to pay that visit to my new bath-house first? I instructed the slaves to light the furnaces last night, and the steam bath and the hot room should be warm by now. I will have a robe and oil and a strigil sent across to you, and Niveus can come and scrape you down and rub you dry – unless you would prefer to use your own attendant for the task?’

  Clever. Marcus had acquired this country residence only a year or two ago and he had been making improvements ever since – including a new sleeping wing for himself and Julia – and this new bath-house was his latest toy: proper little hot and cold rooms and a plunge pool at the end, for which I’d been invited to design the floor. An invitation to enjoy the private facilities in this way could only be interpreted as a compliment – a piece of conspicuous hospitality extended only to the most honoured guests – and since Lucius had obviously been angling for the chance to sample it, he found himself entirely outflanked. He could do nothing dignified except capitulate, muttering his less than heartfelt thanks, and accept the offer with as good a grace as he could muster in the circumstances.

  ‘Ah, here is Niveus now,’ my patron said, as the page came struggling in, with a tray in one hand and a pair of folding chairs in the other. ‘Stay and take a cup of Falernian with us, and then he can escort you to the bath-house straight away.’

  Lucius was too much of a Roman to decline a glass of wine, and he permitted Niveus to pour a measure out. He sipped it thoughtfully – I am no connoisseur of wine, but even I could tell that it was excellent – and pointedly talked of other things, murmuring to Marcus about the coming trip to Rome.

  ‘There are so many splendid new constructions since you saw it last, you’ll hardly recognise the place. Triumphal arches, fountains, temples – everything. There are whole new suburbs springing up these days . . .’ I thought he was choosing the subject to exclude me from the talk, until I realised that Julia was feeling left out too.

  At last, he pushed his cup aside, and rose to take his leave. ‘Time for the promised bath, I think.’ He clapped his hands, and his bull-headed bodyguard instantly appeared, with an alacrity which suggested that he’d been listening at the door. Niveus was sent trotting off with them, first to lead the way and then to fetch the cleansing olive oil and the strigil with which to scrape it off again.

  ‘Odious man!’ Julia remarked, as soon as they had gone. She sank back on to her seat. ‘Are all your cousins so self-consciously superior?’

  Marcus leaned over and helped himself to figs, and – in the absence of the servants – poured himself some wine. ‘Lucius is the only cousin I have left,’ he said. ‘All the relations on my father’s side are dead. My mother had one brother, and he’s the only son. I did not see a great deal of him when I was young, or of his parents either.’ He rolled the wine pensively around his cup, as if he were reading fortunes in it. ‘It was not, I think, a very happy match – a matter of consolidating family estates – and once the heir was born my uncle put his wife aside, though he kept her in some style until she died, I understand. He never actually divorced her, in case she wed again. Wanted to keep her fortune, I suppose. She used to come and see us now and then.’

  Julia shuddered. ‘What a dreadful life for her.’

  ‘Not at all. She rather liked it, it seemed to me, though of course I haven’t seen her since I was very young. She had more freedom than most Roman wives – went to the baths and the circuses, and visited her friends, and spent a fortune on her clothes and jewels. I remember she always smelled of spice, and wore a lot of kohl on her eyes. As a child you notice things like that. I was sorry when I heard she’d died. I looked forward to her visits. She used to laugh a lot. My mother thought she was disgraceful – I remember that, as well.’ He popped a sugared fig into his mouth.

  Julia gave a sigh. It said, ‘Your mother disapproves of everything,’ as clearly as if she’d said the words aloud.

  Marcus looked at her. ‘You mustn’t worry, Julia. It will be all right. My mother is patrician, whatever else she is, and she would never be less than totally polite to any visitor. And you will charm her, as you do everyone. Things are a little different in Rome, that’s all. Here in the provinces, people take their cue from us. If you and I decide to set a trend, half of the populace will follow suit. In Rome it’s more . . . traditional, perhaps. Fashion does follow the Emperor, of course, but since the Emperor is . . . well . . .’

  He did not finish, but we all knew what he meant. Commodus’s extravagance and outlandish ways were the subject of rumour throughout the Empire. Doubtless Marcus’s mother thought him disgraceful too, though of course it would be suicide to voice the thought in Rome. Even here in Britannia it was dangerous: Commodus was as famous for his spies as for his opulent lifestyle – he was almost assassinated by a palace plot quite early in his reign, and now he is said to have paid eyes and ears in practically every corner of the Empire.

  Julia looked at Marcus with liquid eyes. ‘Do we really have to go, husband? It is bad enough knowing that your mother disapproves of me – and don’t pretend she doesn’t, because she makes it clear in every letter that she thinks I schemed to trap her darling son, and I know I’m ignorant of proper Roman ways, and all the ancient customs she thinks so highly of. But now there is this dreadful omen hanging over us as well! Would it not be possible to defer the trip, at least? Think of Marcellinus, if you won’t change your mind for me. What would you do if anything should happen to your son?’

  It was surprising to hear her talking freely in this way in front of me, though it was clear that she had done it on purpose in the hope of my support. Julia is a lively woman of high intelligence, and her husband has been known to seek her views even on financial matters and affairs of state. But to question his judgement – and in public too – was quite another thing. Marcus was affronted, and he made that evident by the way he tapped his fingers on his thigh and set his lips in an unsmiling line.

  ‘Then we shall have to hope that Libertus solves the problem very soon, and disposes of the “omen”, as you call it, well before we leave. Because – understand this, Julia – we are going to Rome. Not only has Prefect Pertinax invited us to go, sending a personal message that it would be insulting to decline, but Lucius also brings news, as you know, that my father is unwell and my mother wants me there as soon as possible.’ He drained his goblet in a single gulp and got abruptly to his feet. ‘I a
m sorry if it displeases you, but I intend that we shall go. Now, if you will excuse me, I will follow Lucius to the bath.’ He turned to Junio and me, with rather a fixed smile. ‘If you citizens would like to join us, that could be arranged. Junio, in particular, might enjoy the treat?’

  I had been about to decline on behalf of both of us, but one glance at Junio’s shining eyes was enough to change my mind. As my slave he had often attended me when I went to the bath-house in the town, but his duties had been confined to helping me to change and watching my belongings in the stone-locker room. I don’t think he’d ever been in the baths himself, though there was sometimes a period set aside on occasional special feast days when even slaves could go.

  ‘My son would like it very much, I think,’ I said. ‘Though I must personally decline this time. My wife will be expecting me at home by now, I’m sure, wanting to make preparations for tonight. I expect she will be needing help, as well.’ It was even possible that she would want a big jug of water brought into the house so she could strip off all her clothes and wash. A banquet at my patron’s was a big event for her. And our young slave Kurso was here with me, of course – no doubt kicking his heels in the servants’ waiting-room. ‘But I will look in again on your mysterious corpse before I go, since the lady Julia is relying on my help in this matter.’

  Marcus nodded and held out his hand, so that I could deferentially press the seal ring to my lips. Then he turned and left. I saw them as they walked across the court, Marcus surrounded by his attendants, with Junio walking gleefully behind.

  I turned to Julia. ‘I’ll go back to the stables. Can you have Kurso sent out there to me? The land slaves who were sent out to make enquiries should be returning very soon.’

  She nodded. ‘They may be back already – they wouldn’t come in here. I told them to report to Stygius. You can ask him while you’re there. And if the cart is back from Glevum with the dancers for tonight, I will have the driver take you and Kurso home. Junio can walk over when he has finished in the baths – or even stay here, if he would prefer. I imagine he will be wearing the same toga later on?’