Vesperion looked enquiringly at me, but I shook a doubtful head – Minimus would not be carrying a scroll. The patrician, however, was on his feet again. ‘That will be my attendant, I expect. Bring in that tray, slave, and put it there.’ He gestured to the desk. ‘Then go and summon him to me at once.’
The pimply slave-boy hastened to comply, and – after a brief hesitation – Vesperion followed him.
‘So our private conversation will have to wait,’ I said, rising respectfully to my feet again, as courtesy required.
The patrician gave me a disdainful look. ‘On the contrary. Cacus has been with me since he was a boy. He is entirely in my confidence and I’d be glad of his advice.’
My face must have revealed the astonishment I felt. I could think of no one more unlikely to discuss things with an underling.
‘Cacus is no ordinary servant, as you’ll see. I bought him from his parents when he was just a boy fishing in poverty in one of the smaller islands in our sea. I saw potential in him even then and he has proved me right a hundred times. He’s very gifted – for a slave. Much like yourself, I suppose.’ I was about to protest that I had ceased to be a slave ten years or more ago, but he waved a jewelled hand to silence me. ‘I take him everywhere. He often assists me in conducting my affairs. In fact, he has been dealing with some urgent family business on my behalf today. I’ll have him in, and I want you to tell him what you have been telling me. Ah, here he is!’
I turned to look, and saw what he had meant. This was indeed no ordinary slave.
The man who filled the doorway was an impressive sight. He was half the age that I am, but almost twice as tall – and broad to match, though there was not an uncia of fat on any part of him. His skin was the colour of burnished bronze and the muscles and sinews in his legs stood out like knotted rope. He wore a striking ochre-coloured slave-tunic and cloak, and a pair of high-laced sandals dyed to match. It was a uniform designed to emphasise his master’s wealth and rank, but actually the short garments merely served to accentuate his size and draw attention to the colour of his skin.
‘Come!’ his master ordered, and the apparition came into the room, though he was so tall he had to duck his head to get in through the door. He strode across to us, his arms and shoulders rippling as he moved. There was none of the usual clumsiness that accompanies great size: if this was a giant, it was a most athletic one. As he came forward into the light of the candle I got a clear look at his face.
It was like one of the beaten masks the cavalry sometimes wear – handsome, hardened and expressionless, and the same gold-brown as all the rest of him. I could see why his master took him everywhere. This was no mere slave, this was a bodyguard. And his presence answered a question I had not thought to ask myself, why a patrician of such noble rank was travelling without an armed and mounted escort at his side. This man would have seen off any hungry wolf or bear, and the sight of the cudgel stuffed carelessly into his belt as if it were a trifling thing and not a heavy club, would have dissuaded bandits very fast indeed. But today he was acting as messenger as well. In one gigantic hand he held the promised scroll.
Pimply-Face was right – that was an imperial seal-box, by the look of it.
The giant did not even glance at me. He threw himself upon his knees before his owner, bowed his head and held the scroll out, saying urgently, ‘Your pardon, citizen—’
‘Thank you, Cacus,’ his master interrupted impatiently. ‘You can give that to me. I’ll put it where it’s safe.’ He lifted his toga folds and put it carefully into a long, deep leather pouch that was dangling from a belt around his waist – obviously designed for carrying the document. He carefully concealed it beneath his drapes before he spoke again. ‘Rise, man, rise. I have a task for you!’
Cacus – it occurred to me that he’d been appropriately named after the monstrous son of Vulcan – scrambled to his feet. He towered over us. ‘Master, I fear that I could not finish what you asked. Your brother—’
‘Never mind that now. This is the citizen, Libertus,’ his master interrupted with that chilly smile of his, gesturing to me with one pudgy hand. His fingers were covered in ostentatious jewellery, one ring at least on each – I noted two fine seal-rings and a mourning ring in jet – and underneath the cloak I saw that he wore a stack of thick gold bracelets on each upper arm. I mentally applauded his sagacity – it’s a safer way of carrying your wealth than as gold pieces in a luggage cart, since any market will exchange a given weight of precious metal for its worth in coins. And there was clearly lots of weight. He must have been carrying a small fortune on his arms.
Cacus inclined his head a moment in a bow, then looked at me with that impassive, mask-like face. More than looked, in fact. He examined me so fixedly – studying my features as though he were trying to learn a task by heart – that he could almost have gone away and painted a likeness of me from memory alone. ‘This is the citizen that you were speaking of?’ he said. The Latin had a faintly foreign ring to it.
The purple-striper nodded. ‘There’ll be need for you to call in at his workshop now. By great good fortune, I encountered him myself. But I’d like you to listen to what he has to say.’
‘You planned to call on me?’ I was so astonished that I interrupted him. ‘It wasn’t you who came into my workshop earlier today wanting mosaics for a country house?’ It seemed so likely when I thought of it, that I wondered why this had not occurred to me before. ‘If so …’
But the patrician shook his head. ‘I have no need of pavements, citizen. I have no home in Glevum nowadays. Revisiting the place, I’m rather glad I don’t. The town is nothing but a trading post and a retirement colonia for the soldiery, and a remote and backward one at that. I have spent a fruitless morning in the town attempting to find a senior member of the curia. But it seems that none of them is willing to be found.’ He gave me that peculiar bleak and twisted smile again. ‘I take it that not all of them have followed your patron’s example and gone away to Rome?’
It was intended as a challenge, but I answered peaceably. ‘As it happens, citizen, I can help you there. There’s been an extraordinary meeting of the curia today,’ I said. ‘They were summoned to the garrison. The commander wanted their advice on making that proclamation that was just announced outside.’
The sudden change in his demeanour startled me. Within an instant he was furious again. The florid face grew redder than before and the small eyes glittered angrily. ‘How do you come to know that, pavement-maker? You visited the garrison? You must have done. Of course, you were with those soldiers when the trumpet call was made! They accompanied you here. I saw you with them when Vesperion so rudely left me and hurried off to talk to you instead – though of course I did not realise at that point who you were! What were you doing at the garrison?’ He was so incensed that he was in danger of turning more purple than his stripes. I saw him look at Cacus, who shook a warning head.
‘Master, he must have met the soldiers on the way. At the garrison everyone was being turned away – I told you that.’
So he’d been refused entry to the garrison himself! No wonder Fancy-Cloak had been so furious, I thought. I had been afforded more preference than his representative. I shook my head. I had no wish to offend a powerful man like this. ‘I was turned away as well,’ I said, with truth, if not with total honesty. ‘But I would have supposed that the imperial seal … Ah, I see!’
The exclamation escaped me before I could control my tongue. A piece of the mosaic had just tumbled into place.
EIGHTEEN
I had not managed to keep the triumph from my voice, or the smile of satisfaction from my lips. That was not wise of me.
‘Something is causing you amusement, citizen?’ The patrician’s voice was dangerous.
‘Only that I think I’ve come to understand.’ I was only too eager to explain. ‘Apart from the property that you were mentioning, you have some other legal interest to register, I suppose. I presume your scroll rel
ates to something of the kind?’
He looked astonished, then bewildered, but to my delight he nodded.
So I had been right. Why had I not thought of it before? Obviously the treasured scroll was an official document emanating from the now-dead Emperor. That was not required for mere sale of property, even of the formal variety, so the document which bore the seal must relate to something else. Probably a travel permit or an imperial judgement on some disputed will.
Perhaps I could even guess which will it was, given what was happening in the forum at that very moment! And it was obvious why the citizen was so urgently seeking to register his scroll with a senior magistrate, or some other member of the local curia. ‘That’s why you were looking for my patron, yesterday?’ I said.
‘You are as perceptive as they say you are, citizen!’ he said. Was I imagining it, or was there a tone of genuine astonishment? ‘It was indeed in connection with the scroll that I was attempting to call at the villa yesterday.’
And was probably why he had called in here today, I realised – in the hope of finding the town councillor who had bought the warehouse recently. In which case, his lofty remark to Vesperion had not merely been a snub, he genuinely could not deal with an underling. Only a member of the curia would suffice. But the old steward had been right in one respect at least: there was never any interest at all in buying wine. The poor old fellow was going to be disappointed of his sale.
Fancy-Cloak was clearly a person with violent shifts of mood. He exchanged a look with Cacus then turned and met my eyes. His own had lost their angry glitter and now seemed half-amused. ‘Your powers of reasoning are impressive, citizen – though I should not be surprised. I’d already heard of you. You have a lively reputation in the town, both as your patron’s trusted confidant and as a puzzle-solver of considerable skill. In fact, the relative with whom I lodged last night told me that you were the cleverest man for miles. I see that you deserve that accolade.’
Perhaps it was the unexpected flattery that prompted me to venture my second wild surmise. ‘If your imperial letter of authority concerns the will of Gaius Publius, by any chance, they are reading it on the steps of the basilica as we speak.’
‘Are they indeed?’ The news had taken him aback. ‘I was not aware of that. Thank you, citizen. So if I wish to make a challenge, I should present myself at once?’ He turned to Cacus. ‘You see what this implies? I think we can forget our other errands in the town – for the moment anyway – and get over there as soon as possible.’ He gave me another of his chilly smiles. ‘You cannot guess how much your words have simplified our business in Glevum, citizen.’ He even extended a ringed hand for me to kiss.
This sudden civility emboldened me again. ‘There will be many claimants, as I understand – all of them expecting something out of the estate. I believe it is a lengthy will with lots of small bequests, but Gaius seems to have made conflicting promises about the bulk of his estate. People were predicting legal battles in the courts – though your imperial decree will give you undisputed claim, of course. But there are likely to be wrangles, even with your scroll.’
‘So?’ He withdrew the hand, impatiently.
‘Since you are too late to register your claim before the reading starts, you won’t be able to do so till the end. So before you go, with your permission, there’s something I might ask …?’
‘About what, citizen?’ The voice was sharp again.
‘Only that I wondered why you’d meant to call on me.’
‘Ah!’ He looked at Cacus and raised a questioning eyebrow at his slave. I thought for a moment he meant that his bodyguard should answer me – but, to my surprise, it was simply a signal to bring the refreshments from the desk. There was, of course, only a single goblet on the tray – intended for my use – but the patrician picked it up, as if of right, and held it out for his manservant to fill, then sat down on the stool again and motioned me to take the other one.
I sat, reluctantly, cursing my tendency to talk too much. I had not intended to create a long delay. Evidently the patrician was in no hurry any more – presumably the prospect of a legal brawl in the forum did not appeal to him – but I still had unfinished business in the town. However, this leisurely interlude was entirely of my own creation and I did not dare offend a man of rank.
He raised the metal drinking cup and smiled at me – an almost friendly smile. It seemed the news I’d given him about the will had softened him. When he spoke his tone was more relaxed. ‘It’s true I planned to call in at your workshop later on. Having not found Marcus I was hoping to find you. And here you are in person – before I even look – and already you have given me invaluable advice.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘It seems the Fates are smiling on us both.’
That was ironic, given the terrible happenings today, but I did not tell him that. I simply said, politely, ‘But I still don’t understand, patrician, why you should come to me at all. I’m not a magistrate – in fact I have no legal authority of any kind – so I could not help with registering your claim.’
He made a face as though the wine was poor – which probably it was. The sample was not intended for a person of his rank. ‘Surely, citizen, with your skill at solving problems you can work out what I was going to ask of you?’
Challenged like that, of course I saw at once. A mere ruling on a will – even one that carried the imperial seal – was not likely to surprise either the provincial governor or the chief decurion of Corinium. ‘You had some news for Marcus – apart from seeking to register your scroll – and you hoped to entrust me with conveying it?’ I said, and earned a swift approving nod. ‘I should be honoured to do so, naturally. But if my patron is already on his way back here, as now seems possible, it may be more convenient to wait and deliver it yourself.’ He gave me a peculiar look, and I added quickly, ‘Assuming that you are still in the vicinity by then. Are you intending to be in Glevum long?’
‘I have already been here longer than I meant. I hoped that my business would be finished yesterday.’ He gave me another of his chilly smiles. ‘I originally intended to be away from here by dawn with a view to reaching Isca by tonight. Clearly that is no longer possible. But once I’ve settled what is owed to me I shall leave at once. And, I fear, I shall not be this way again. So tell your master when you see him that I spoke to you – and that I’m sorry I failed to call in at his town house in Corinium yesterday.’
I frowned. ‘That is all the message? I thought that there was news.’
‘Since you have told me about the reading of the will, the other information is no longer relevant. If the estate is settled and I get what I am owed – and I have every confidence – I shall be content to regard my business here as done.’ He drained the cup and held it out for Cacus to take, and when the slave had replaced it on the tray, got sharply to his feet. ‘Your patron knows me well. He had a lot of dealings with me once and my fortunes in these last few years I owe to him alone. I could not come to Glevum without attempting to repay a little of the debt.’ He held out his ringed hand for me to kiss again, which I did by simply scrambling to my feet and bending over it. ‘Tell him Commemoratus tried to call on him. You won’t forget the name?’ He smiled at the jest: the name means ‘well-remembered’ or ‘recalled to mind’ and he was teasing me.
‘I won’t forget,’ I said, with dignity, though it would have been more polite of him to offer his full title, as I had myself.
‘Good. I’m sure he’ll understand. You can tell him that I came to call on him, but you met me at the gate and I hadn’t been able to gain admittance to the house. I wouldn’t like your patron to suppose I hadn’t tried.’ He did not wait for an acknowledgement, but pulled his embroidered cloak more closely round himself and raised a parting hand. ‘So, farewell citizen and thank you for your help. Come, Cacus. I think our business is concluded here.’
‘At your command, as always, master. Do you wish me to obtain a carrying-litter for you, or are you content to walk?’<
br />
‘It isn’t far to the basilica,’ I said. ‘Just go to the corner and follow the main street.’
‘Even so we should make haste before it is too late,’ the golden-skinned slave said in his lilting Latin. He was so tall that he’d been looking idly through the window space – though it was built deliberately high up on the wall to keep out intruders and casual prying eyes – but now he came across the room and opened the door for his master to go through, and bowed his handsome head towards me in farewell.
There was no sign of Vesperion or the spotty slave outside, though I’d expected them to be hovering right beside the door – if not actually trying to overhear the talk within.
The same thought had obviously occurred to Commemoratus, who paused to call imperiously to me. ‘Please make our apologies to the steward, citizen,’ he said, loudly enough for half the dock to hear. ‘I don’t know where he is. He can’t be far away – it would be discourteous not to escort me from the premises – but I’m not disposed to wait till he arrives. Thank him for the sample of his wine on my behalf, but tell him I decided that I didn’t want to purchase any more.’ I’m sure I heard him chuckle as Cacus closed the door and they moved down the warehouse towards the outer door.
That put me in a slight dilemma, naturally. Now I was more or less obliged to wait and pass the message on, but Vesperion was nowhere to be seen and I was in a hurry on my own account. Then it occurred to me that I could write it down – the steward was as literate as I was myself and there was chalk-stone on the desk. I was in the act of sitting down to scratch a note when the door flew open and the spotty slave came in.
The Fateful Day Page 16