‘I shall need my axe or something to get into this,’ I said, trying to keep emotion from my voice. No need to advertise my sudden wealth. Although Sosso and his men had proved themselves willing to help for a price, they were still beggars, vagabonds and thieves, and Molendinarius had looted my roundhouse, after all. I turned the loaf so that the coin was out of sight. ‘Or perhaps that stone you use for grinding herbs.’
The woman nodded and I moved towards the hut. Sosso and Cornovacus were there, deep in conversation by the fire. They were squatting on the floor – which was devoid of bedding, I observed. The two of them looked up as I came in.
‘I’ve got the money – or the means of getting it,’ I said quickly, before Sosso could ask. ‘And a lot of useful information too.’
Sosso got slowly to his feet.
‘If you are going to work on my behalf,’ I went on briskly, ‘I’ve got some notion now of where to start. I need somebody to go into the town and see if they can find the inn where Procurator Mellitus stayed – and if possible discover where he is now. Also, and most important, if you can get into the garrison, I’d like to know what documents were found, and exactly what they are supposed to say. And Balbus should be watched, as well – and any other dignitary who was there that night, even the high priest of Jup . . .’
‘Later, citizen.’ Sosso’s unlovely grin looked calculating in the shadows of the fire. ‘First the money. Then we’ll talk again.’
‘All in good time. I need this dwelling to myself awhile,’ I said. I did not want him to guess about the loaf, so I added quickly, ‘My patron’s wife has given me some clothes to change into, and suggested whom we could approach for help.’ It was true, too, if I understood her right. She mentioned the high priest of Jupiter – my own words a moment earlier had reminded me – and judging by what Cilla had told me on the morning after Praxus’s death, the high priest might be prepared to lend a sympathetic ear.
Sosso, though, was shaking his head. ‘Not safe! You can’t go into the town.’
‘I have been thinking about that,’ I said. ‘I can’t stay here, it’s true, but if you smuggled me back inside the city walls – perhaps making use of the cart again – I could go to my workshop and hide there. If the guard are sure that I’m outside the town – and that seems to be the case, since they’ve been searching here – they’ll hardly waste time looking for me there.’
Cornovacus had been getting to his feet. ‘Think yourself clever, do you, citizen? Well, let me tell you something you don’t know. I called at your wretched workshop yesterday, when I was in the town. There’s been a guard seen twice outside your door, may Mars strike him dead! We’ve left a lookout on the street, so when the place is safe he’ll send us word. You can’t be keener to get back than we are to get rid of you. But obviously you can’t go yet – unless you want to risk your scrawny neck?’ He paused. I shook my head. ‘In that case, you remember Tullio?’
How could I forget? I was still aching from my uncomfortable ride and the ignominious impromptu bathe. ‘You want me to travel in that little boat again?’ I couldn’t keep the panic from my voice.
Cornovacus laughed scornfully. Sosso said, ‘Simpler than that. He’s got a wife and children. And a hut. He’ll hide you, for a price.’
‘It will be risky. His wife may not agree.’ I was imagining what Gwellia would say if I suggested endangering us all by hiding a stranger who was wanted by the guard.
‘She will, if she’s paid enough,’ Cornovacus said, with finality. ‘It’s hard to feed and clothe five children on what Tullio makes from catching eels. He’s always desperate.’
Sosso nodded. ‘So, where’s the money?’
I was reluctant to reveal the secret of the loaf. I jangled the coins which were tied into my hem. ‘I’ve got some here. And there’ll be more. But first, as I said, I need a moment to myself – to think and put these clothes on, among other things.’
I did not suppose they would agree to this, but Sosso simply rolled his eyes at Cornovacus, and said, ‘Don’t be all night. It’s late.’
He went, gesturing to his companion to follow him. Cornovacus didn’t go at once. ‘We shall be right outside the door,’ he said, glaring at me suspiciously. ‘And don’t go helping yourself to the confounded soup till we’ve been paid, or by all the gods . . .’ Sosso came back and jerked a thumb at him, and he went out, still grumbling.
I knelt down stiffly on the earthen floor. The loaf of bread was far too hard to break with my hands and I was obliged to hack it first, using the iron knife nearby. As I did so, more coins were revealed. I prised them out, and then began to grind the residue.
They were not all denarii, as I’d thought at first. There were a few of those, but there were a score of sestertii, as well, and a large number of copper coins – both quadrantes and asses. They were all stuck together in a lump – as if somebody had scooped up all the cash they had, and simply dropped the handful in the mix. As I riffled through the dust the pestle made, I discovered several more, but the most exciting find was in the crust. A single gold aureus. It made me gasp. I have rarely held an aureus in my hand. That coin alone repaid my debt to Sosso six times over, and left me cash to spare.
I was gazing at it in amazement and delight when I became aware of stealthy movement at the door. I glanced up and realised that Cornovacus had been watching me, He leapt back as I raised my head, obviously anxious to be unobserved, but I could see his shadow on the wall. I slid the aureus into my sandal – the one that laced up properly! – and untied the four quadrantes which I’d tied into the hem of my makeshift robe. I kept one of them concealed in my hand, until a moment later the silhouette was back, showing that Cornovacus had returned.
Pretending not to notice him, I slid out of my makeshift robe and put the pale blue slave’s tunic on instead. Then, looking fearfully about, as if afraid that I was being watched, I made great play of tying up the quadrans coin, this time into the corner of my former cloak, which I then doubled up and wrapped around me with the hidden money on the inner side.
I saw the shadow stiffen on the wall and knew that Cornovacus had been watching me. I also knew that he was an accomplished thief. If he had spied me with the aureus, I thought, it would be interesting to see what happened to that hidden coin.
I had already taken the precaution of tearing a wide belt-strip from one long ragged edge of my former garment, and now I twisted one end of that to form a pouch, scooped the remaining coins into it, tied it round my waist and went outside. Cornovacus was leaning casually against the hut.
He greeted my appearance with a grudging nod. ‘There you are! Dressed up in your finery, I see. Taken your confounded time about it, haven’t you?’
I made no reply to this. The tunic was – as Julia had said – an ancient one, stained with red wine and tattered around the hem, and I had a damp, smelly apology for a cloak. I was, at best, attired like a slave, and I still had one sandal with a broken strap. Yet I felt extraordinarily comfortable, almost like a proper man again, except that I sadly needed a barber and a wash – if not oil and strigil at a Roman bath, at least a scoop of Gwellia’s soap to remove the dirt, and clean water to rinse with afterwards. However, this dwelling offered no such luxuries. ‘Where’s Sosso?’ I said.
‘Gone on ahead to meet up with Tullio. Lercius went to fetch him earlier. I am to take you to them – when you’ve paid.’ His voice was carefully neutral but his eyes flickered greedily towards my belt. I realised that I must be on my guard. That purse made me a potential target once again.
‘My agreement was with Sosso,’ I said, with more casual assurance than I felt. ‘I’ll give the four denarii to him. And I’ve got instructions for him, if he wants to earn some more.’
I thought for a moment there would be an argument – one which I would assuredly have lost – but eventually Cornovacus gave a grunt. ‘Very well. I’ll lead the way. Come on. And you’d better have that money, citizen, or I’ll personally tear you limb fr
om limb.’ He made the very word ‘citizen’ sound like an insult.
I stood my ground. ‘You promised me some soup.’
‘Only if you pay for it,’ he said.
‘I’ll pay the woman separately. I have the money now.’ I patted the coins that were round my waist. ‘As I think you know.’
He turned a sullen red at this, but all he said was, ‘Very well!’ He raised his voice. ‘Woman! Bring the citizen some soup. And don’t be all the accursed day about it, if you value that scrawny neck of yours.’
The woman disappeared inside and came back with a chipped bowl from somewhere, full of steaming soup. There seemed to be no spoon available, so I sipped it directly from the lip, aware of the dreadful odour which still lingered on my hands. The broth was from my chicken, and tasted wonderful. I prised open the knot around the coins and held out a sestertius to her. She looked at Cornovacus doubtfully, then without a smile or word of thanks she snatched it from me, hid it in her dress and scuttled off into the hut.
Bizarre, I thought, that I should pay so dearly for a watery soup made of my own stolen chickens. But the woman had been good to me, and now that I had coin, I did not begrudge her a part of it. I sipped the remainder of the soup while Cornovacus watched impatiently. I did not hurry, though the light was fading fast. This was the best meal I’d had since the banquet.
I have thought since that it might have been the soup that saved my life, because as I finished it, Sosso came loping lopsidedly up the path again, followed by Lercius and Tullio.
‘Guards! On the lane!’ he grunted as he panted up. ‘We’ll wait here till they are gone.’ He cocked an enquiring eyebrow at Cornovacus. ‘Got the money?’
The tall thief shook his head, but before he could say a word I intervened. ‘My arrangement was with you,’ I said. ‘It’s here. Four denarii, I think we said?’
‘Five,’ Sosso said at once. ‘One more for Molendinarius. For your accommodation and the cart.’
Lercius was skipping up to us, his face alive with that malicious glee. ‘Trouble?’ he said, as one might seek a treat. ‘Let me . . .’
‘No trouble,’ I said hastily, and untied the coins again. As Sosso watched I selected five denarii, and held them out to him.
Cornovacus was looking at the coins in my hand. ‘Give us some smaller coins, for Pluto’s sake,’ he said. ‘If I turn up in Glevum with a denarius the shopkeepers will think I’ve stolen it, and send for the market police instead of serving me.’
I could understand that. In the normal way, the chances were that he would have stolen it. But I counted twenty sestertii from my purse and put the silver back. Cornovacus nodded as though pleased with this and even patted my back approvingly.
Sosso flashed his blackened tooth-stumps at me, and took the coins. ‘Easier to share this out, as well,’ he said. He seemed genuinely delighted by the sum, although it suddenly struck me how trivial it was, divided among all the members of his group.
‘More where that came from, if you’ll work for me – being my “eyes and ears” as Grossus says.’ I was aware of feeling in control again. ‘Money is power,’ Marcus always said, though I had never felt the force of it till now.
Cornovacus looked sharply at the dwarf. ‘Grossus will want his share of that, of course? You’ll have to go on paying that slimy toad each day. Otherwise we lose the soup and fuel – then Dis knows where we’ll be when there’s a frost. This “citizen”’ – he looked scornfully at me – ‘won’t be paying us for long, even if you agree to work for him. They’ll send his wretched patron off to Rome – or else they won’t. Either way, that is the end of it.’
I didn’t care for his assessment of affairs, but Sosso jerked his head in what might have been a nod, if he’d possessed a neck. ‘Grossus? Paid him already. Parva’s gone. She had money from the guards. Up at the villa earlier.’ He turned to me. ‘Now – you want watchers? Where and who?’
I spelt it out for him: I wanted information about everyone. Anyone I could think of who was at the feast. Balbus, Bullface, Mellitus, all the guests – even Gaius and the high priest of Jupiter. I closed my eyes, attempting to recall the people at the scene, and who was sitting where. Loquex was spouting his appalling verse, and . . .
‘Loquex!’ I suddenly exclaimed. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? He had left the dining room only a few moments before Praxus died. If nothing else, he must have seen who was in the corridor and court. And, come to think of it, I had not seen him afterwards. It would definitely be interesting to talk to him.
‘Loquex?’ Sosso looked puzzled. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘An ageing poet in the colonia. Ekes out a living writing dreadful verse and going around performing it at feasts. Has an apartment on the top floor of a building near the baths, I think. If you can find him, bring him here to me.’
Tullio, who had come up behind us, startled me. ‘Not here, citizen. You’re coming home with me. We’ll have to avoid the main tracks on the way, and keep a sharp eye out for the guard. Sosso says they are already in the lane.’
‘They were going down to your roundhouse by the look of it,’ Lercius put in, as though this was the most cheerful news for weeks. ‘Good thing that messenger has gone.’
I whirled on him. ‘What messenger?’ I looked round to Sosso for support, but he and the others had already gone.
Lercius shrugged. ‘Didn’t I tell you? He turned up at the roundhouse earlier when I was back there looking for a pot. Said he was heading to the villa of Marcus Septimus, but he had a message for the owner of the roundhouse on the way. From someone in Corinium. A slave.’
‘My slave?’ I could hardly frame the words. ‘From Junio?’
Lercius grinned. ‘That’s right.’
‘What was the message?’ I said, struggling with an impulse to seize him by the neck and shake the information out of him.
‘Just that your wife and slaves were safe. Oh, and that somebody else was in Corinium. He did say the name, somebody beginning with an M, I can’t remember now.’
‘Not Marcus?’ I said, hopeful suddenly.
He shook his head.
‘Mellitus?’ I suggested. His home was in Corinium after all.
Lercius brightened. ‘Mellitus. That’s right.’
‘So Mellitus has gone back to Corinium? Already? You’re sure that’s what he said?’
‘I think so. I wasn’t listening very carefully.’ Lercius looked at me sheepishly. ‘When I turned round the messenger was gone. It was so dark and shadowy. I didn’t see him go. I was thinking about the body in the pit, you see. Molendinarius let me bury it.’
Thinking about the body in the pit! I could imagine Lercius only too clearly, gloating over poor little Golbo’s corpse and listening with only half an ear. Well, if Mellitus was home that was interesting news, but it was one less trail that Sosso could pursue. I could send to Corinium perhaps, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The night was cold and it would soon be dark.
For a moment some association flickered in my brain. Something that somebody had said. I couldn’t place it.
‘Well, if any message comes again, make sure you let me know.’ I sighed. I was suddenly aware of how weary I’d become. ‘I’ll go with Tullio, before it gets too dark to see. If Sosso discovers anything, he’ll know where to find me. Tell him I’ll pay him as agreed – and don’t forget to pass the message on this time!’
He nodded. I turned to Tullio. ‘Lead on!’
XXII
It was getting really dark by now, though there was a misty moon, and we slunk along the margins of the lane, taking to the trees again whenever there was movement on the path. We kept well out of sight and saw no guards (although we heard them once or twice), just a tired donkey-cart or two and a drunken traveller reeling to an inn. We took care that none of them saw us.
We reached the bottom of the hill but then, instead of following the road towards the town, Tullio turned on to a less frequented route, a small rutte
d track that had once led to some forgotten farm. Then even that trail petered out and we seemed to walk for miles along neglected paths, now barely discernible and full of sharp stones and unexpected holes, while creatures rustled past us in the dark. The coin in my sandal rubbed my heel, and soon I was limping as badly as ever. And still we walked.
Suddenly Tullio stopped and placed a finger to his lips. ‘Listen!’ he said. I listened. Far away a lone wolf howled, but apart from that the night seemed empty, cold and still. I shivered. And then I did hear. Water, lapping at the banks.
He turned to me, and I could tell by his voice that he was smiling. ‘The river. Can you hear it? We’re nearly there.’
The last half-mile was marshy, difficult and slow, but at last we turned a corner and there, undoubtedly, was a house – a little roundhouse not dissimilar to mine, except that this one was so low and small it scarcely stood above the level of the reeds. Already I could smell the smoke that rose up from the fire, and see the occasional spark against the dark. Tullio gave a piercing whistle to warn of his approach, and then led the way, picking his way across the reedy marsh, into a fenced enclosure made of plaited osiers, and so into the house.
It was even smaller and lower than it looked, built of osiers itself, and thatched with reeds. I had to bend half double to get in through the door, but inside it was welcoming and warm. A skinny woman started up from a bed of skins and rushes at our approach, disturbing a small child in a woven basket at her side who set up a disgruntled wail. In the firelight four other pairs of sleepy eyes regarded us from another pile of reeds against the further wall.
‘Husband!’ the woman said, clutching her garment to her, and regarding me with ill-disguised alarm.
‘This is the man I told you of last night – the passenger I took downriver in the dark,’ Tullio said, bluntly but with some rough affection in his voice. ‘I promised Sosso we would take him in – he’ll pay us for his keep.’
The Ghosts of Glevum Page 19