A Prisoner of Privilege, page 16
‘I presume so, master. It occurred to me. I tried to describe him, and she seized on it – though, of course, these street boys all look much the same. “Skinny as a whistle, with protruding ears? That’s the one,” she said. “Of course, it is not a wonder that he hangs about – that Properus was always very kind to him. I’ve seen him slip him money more than once. Foolish, because it just encourages the lad. And he needn’t look for gratitude, the boy has shifty eyes. Wouldn’t surprise me if he could climb a wall, like one of those mousing cats the Romans like to keep – and, if you ask me, he was sizing up the chance. Why else would he notice that the shutters were in place? He’s so small that he’d have to lean back purposely to see so high! It’s not like us, we’re looking down on them”.’ He reverted to his own voice, with comical effect. ‘A simple thing, but it had not occurred to me.’
It had not occurred to me either. ‘I doubt the woman’s right. That urchin could not have stolen very much – he’s nowhere to hide booty in those rags of his, and if he suddenly had lots of cash to spend somebody would notice and march him to the watch. More likely she is jealous, on her son’s account. She doesn’t mention Properus giving alms to him!’ I grinned. ‘Though Scito no doubt paid him for his work today?’
‘I rather think the promise was to pay when the answer was received – which is why they were watching out for his return. Though she made it clear that she was hoping for a tip from me.’
‘You gave her one, I hope?’
He shook his head. ‘I had nothing left until I came back here, and Marcus gave me the money for the chair. So I told her that you were a duumvir and – if she had any sense – she should be content for now with knowing that you would not prosecute her son for begging in the street. I hope I acted wisely, master? I did say if the information proved of use to you, you might return and give her something on another day. I did not want her spreading discontent. And if anything has befallen Properus, you might be glad of her cooperation later on?’
I was beginning to think highly of this slave’s intelligence. I should miss him when Laurentius had gone home – despite the dark looks that Minimus was giving us. ‘You have done very well. And you are right, I am concerned for Properus – and anybody else who was close to Josephus. That is why I have another task for you. I promised Florea that I would send those slaves tonight. I know that you’ve selected them, but – more than that – I’d like you to go with them yourself and keep a watch on Florea at the pyre.’
‘And our Roman visitor?’ I had forgotten that Fauvus had not heard the news.
‘He does not want the slaves that Marcus chose for him – pretends that he’s been warned that some of you are dangerous, though I can’t imagine that’s the truth. I suspect he simply wishes to insult his Excellence – he has already done so, in several ways, in fact. He now intends to spend this evening at the garrison. He seems to have made an ally of the new commandant. So he won’t be here until the morning, at the earliest. So when those slaves go to keep vigil for Florea tonight, you go with them and take him the key – tell the fort that you’re the one who’ll help him settle in. He may send for you tomorrow. Though only the gods know what I’m to do with all the rest of you. If all else fails, they could attend on Josephus, I suppose, until Marcus can arrange to have you sold again.’
Fauvus did his little bow again, but I saw the look of disappointment cross his face – and was equally aware that Minimus was grinning with relief. He tried to suppress it as I turned to him.
‘And Minimus, I have a task for you. It is getting late. Go to the workshop and tell Junio to come, and bring the mule. We’ll have to use the panniers to take our wet clothes home, and hope to bring the money back another time.’
The little redhead nodded and rushed off eagerly.
‘And now,’ I said to Fauvus, ‘bring all the slaves in here. I’d better tell them what they can expect. It’s possible that his Excellence may take on some of you – yourself and the doorkeeper among them, I expect. Though, I confess, I shall miss your services. You have not served me long, but you have served me very well.’
To my surprise, he coloured instantly. ‘And I shall never have a better master,’ he declared. ‘I had hoped I could escort you home – but naturally, master, I am at your command.’
‘Then fetch the slaves to me!’ Embarrassment had made me sound severe.
He leapt to obey me and no more was said. I made my announcement, to general dismay, but slaves must do as their masters tell them to, and they accepted they would shortly be resold. By the time that Junio and Minimus arrived, I was cloaked and ready, with the wet clothes – and both my togas – neatly and separately bundled for the mule.
NINETEEN
I did not take the litter, I was glad to walk, talking to Junio as we trudged home together along the ancient muddy track. Minimus trotted happily ahead, with Arlina – safely out of earshot, which was just as well.
‘The tanner’s wife from next door came in twice this afternoon – the first time to tell me that Laurentius was a spy, and the second to tell me that he wanted to see you!’ Junio looked wryly at me. ‘I thought that spies were supposed to act in secrecy.’
‘Not this one, it appears! He could not make it clearer if he had slogans written on the forum walls. And if she has heard it, it will be all around the town – she is the biggest gossip this side of Londinium!’
‘But it was clear that she was genuinely worried, too.’
‘I imagine there is a lot of anxiety about,’ I said. ‘Everyone will have something that he wants to hide – if it is only having celebrated the fall of one or other of the recent Emperors, or having spoken too freely in a tavern recently. I confess that I’m concerned myself. If Marcus falls, he’ll take me with him, that is obvious. That’s why I’d like to stop by if I can, and have a look at the place where Semprius was found. I fear that if Laurentius has his way I may not get another chance – though don’t tell your mother so. Time enough for her to worry if the worst occurs.’
Junio gave me an anxious glance, but only said, ‘Of course. And naturally we’ll stop and search the place. Though it’s unlikely you’ll find anything at this late stage. We can’t even be sure exactly when Semprius was killed.’
‘Properus saw him the morning that Josephus died. He told me so himself.’
‘So it must be after that. But it’s been raining ever since.’
‘But you never know. There might be something which was overlooked – the army won’t have lingered to look around, especially if they thought that Druid rebels were involved. They’d be concerned with collecting the corpse as fast as possible and making sure that it was not a rebel trap, designed to ambush them!’
Junio gasped, ‘You’re certain that it’s not?’ I raised my eyebrows at him, and he gave a sheepish grin. ‘In that case, shall I stay and help?’
I shook my head. ‘You’d better catch Minimus and tell him where I’ve gone. I don’t want to upset him any more. He seemed very jealous of my new slaves, earlier – especially of Fauvus, who after a single day has managed to make himself seem indispensible – that I was anxious to give him an important job to do.’
My son grinned back at me. ‘That’s why you decided not to ride the mule? I had rather wondered, since we haven’t got the money bags, and the panniers aren’t heavy with just your clothes in them.’
‘And that—’ I broke off and we both leapt back sharply to let a horseman past – a hooded fellow in a short slave’s cloak, going far too fast for such a narrow lane. As he passed us he did not slow at all – quite the contrary, he seemed to urge his horse. It forced us off the track at either side, and the rider did not even glance at me, but turned to scowl at Junio as he thundered by.
My son raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Rude! I wonder who that was? Looked like a courier slave from the message pouch that was slung across his chest.’
‘That wasn’t merely rude, it was outright dangerous. If I knew whose slave it was, I’d tell his master so. It would earn the man a flogging but – for once – I think it is deserved. He almost ran us down! Though he doubtless prides himself on horsemanship. I wonder where he’s going, at such a speed?’
Junio shrugged. ‘A messenger for Marcus, possibly? There’s not much this way but your patron’s villa, after all.’
‘Then it’s a wasted journey! Marcus was intending to spend the night in town. Though it’s possible it is a message for his wife! In which case, let’s pray it doesn’t bring unpleasant news. Laurentius will make trouble for the family if he can – despite the fact that he’s a relative.’
‘You think that was his servant? It could be that you’re right. Certainly I didn’t recognize the face. And he must have had directions, he seemed sure where he was going. Let’s just hope he hasn’t startled Arlina, or we’ll have her bolting off into the woods, dislodging panniers, and it will take an age to find her and reassemble things. I’d better go and see what’s happening. Meantime, here’s the pond, if you still want to go. Or are you too concerned about that messenger?’
‘I’ll call on the lady Julia later on, perhaps,’ I said. ‘I’d like to hear her views about Laurentius, anyway. But since we’re here I’ll go and look around. I promised Semprius’s spirit I would find his murderer, and – as I say – this may be the only opportunity.’
Junio nodded. ‘Then I’ll find Minimus and then come back for you.’ He set off down the track.
I turned towards the pool. From here the banks were always screened from view – even at this leafless time of year – by a curtain of thick branches and scrubby undergrowth. (In summer, one might pass the pond entirely and not realize it was there.) But today the whole hollow was covered in a shroud of winter mist, which had not lifted from low-lying areas all day. However, I had been this way before and soon found the little trampled path down to the water’s edge. It was treacherous and slippery after all the rain and I picked my way down it very cautiously – though I could not resist looking out for hoof prints in the mud.
It was ridiculous of course. There had been mention of horse tracks, but there was nothing visible now except a confusion of human footprints and a groove – now half-obscured – which might have been where something had been pulled. Almost certainly the corpse, I told myself – the army death patrol was not renowned for its delicate treatment of dead slaves.
But something about it, instinct told me, was not right. Why was it half-obscured? I stopped, feeling a prickle of cold fear run down my back, and looked again. My impression was correct. The groove was crisscrossed by another, far more recent, set of tracks, that seemed to have been made by a pair of badly hobnailed soles.
Not the army then! Soldiers kept their hobnails in excellent repair. And not the gooseboy who had found the body first – he was unlikely to return in any case, for fear of ghosts, and besides it was unlikely he had proper shoes at all, much less expensive hobnailed ones. Poorer people generally wear the so-called ‘rawhide boots’, literally a piece of raw hide tied around each foot and left to tan and adapt itself in wear. But there were no signs of such bag-like shoeprints here, nor any of the tracks made by the distinctive webbed feet of his flock. So who else had been this way? Semprius’s murderer again perhaps? I caught my breath – tasting the musty tang of fog – and paused. Was it foolish to go on? I’d presumed that this was a private murder – but there might indeed be rebels lingering nearby.
There could hardly be much to learn after all these hours in any case, I thought, especially after the army death patrol had done their worst. Soldiers are not noted for the lightness of their tread. Their cart was wide and heavy, it could not have come down here – but they would have sent a two-man squad, at minimum, to come and fetch the corpse (probably more, to guard their flanks, in case of ambush). Obviously they’d found the body and dragged it after them, paying no attention to where they put their feet – so any useful evidence was probably destroyed.
I sighed and was about to tiptoe back towards the lane – taking pains to make as little sound as possible – when I was halted by the sound of a sudden movement close nearby. Human noises – almost like a splash, the crack of branches, followed by a curse. I froze. Was this the owner of the sandals? Some farmer coming to fetch water for his animals, perhaps? I shook my head.
Once the story of the corpse was out, country people would avoid this place as much as possible, for fear of bringing trouble to their herds – especially when there had been recent rain to fill the water butts. A rebel tribesman, then? Or – it unexpectedly occurred to me – was it perhaps the missing medicus? I was prepared to think that he was behind this whole affair. He must be hiding somewhere – could this be the place?
Well, there was only one way to find out. Cautiously – extremely cautiously – I crept on down the path until I reached a corner where I was half-concealed but could still crane forward and steal a wary look.
I edged my head out from my hiding place and almost cried aloud.
There was a cloaked and hooded figure further down the bank, bending over a group of scrubby bushes in the mist. It was so grey and formless it looked almost like a wraith. I am not a great believer in the ghosts of murdered men coming back to haunt the place where they were killed, but it was enough to make me gasp. In fact I was alarmed enough to take a backward step. Idiot! As I did so I heard a twig snap underneath my feet.
At once the figure straightened up and whirled to look at me. Clearly human – and probably a man, although the hood still hid the face. A moment later I was convinced of that, and of the fact that my attempts to hide had failed. The cloaked man dropped the bundle he was carrying, snatched up a stout staff that he had laid nearby, and lunged towards me with a snarl. And with what was clearly murderous intent!
TWENTY
It was too late for me to duck away, and in any case my aging legs had turned to stone. I raised a pair of helpless hands to shield my face and let out a loud despairing cry, ‘Junio! Minimus! Help me! Junio!’
Pointless, of course, my son was out of earshot down the path! But my shout did save me – in an unexpected fashion. The man stopped charging at me, dropped the staff, leaned his head backwards in a bewildered way, then walked towards me, pushing back his hood.
‘Councillor Libertus!’ I recognized the voice before I registered the face. It was Properus – his handsome face now lighting in a delighted smile. ‘Citizen!’ He hurried over, seized me by the elbows and pumped both my arms in cordial Roman style. ‘For a moment there, you frightened me. It’s lucky that I recognized the name of Junio. I feared you were a rebel and about to pounce on me! I was about to hit you with my walking staff!’ He let go of my arms and clapped both hands across his heart, as if to still its thumping beat. His voice was breathless, too. ‘I might have killed you. Thank all the gods I realized who it was, in time! But this is a surprise. What are you doing here?’
For a moment I was so relieved that I could only gawp. It was Properus, indeed, but not the dapper, confident Properus I had seen before. Though he was smiling, his face looked strained, his blue eyes tired, and his clothing was dishevelled too. The cloak had flown open in his forward rush, revealing a short, stained and crumpled tunic underneath – most unlike his normal neat attire. He seemed more relieved than I was, if that were possible.
I could hardly have been more surprised myself. ‘Properus,’ I countered. ‘I am glad to find you here. We were fearing for your safety.’
‘Mine?’ He sounded mystified.
‘I called on you today to collect my money bags. Your slave invited us to wait, but you did not appear, and in the end he was clearly worried too. He set out to look for you. But I might ask you the same question. What are you doing here?’
He gave me that flickering look again, and shook his head. ‘The same thing as you are, councillor, no doubt. Wondering if this is the place where Semprius was killed. I was coming back to Glevum on the military road, but I met the army on a route march exercise. I would have had to stand aside for ages and wait to let them pass, so I asked a passer-by and he directed me down here, but warned me that a body had been found – lest I was superstitious, I suppose. But when he told me it seemed to be a slave – I thought of Semprius, of course. I felt that I must come, if only to purify the place.’
‘You had the wherewithal?’
He gestured to the bundle. ‘Fortunately I was carrying the herbs and salt that I’d intended to take to Josephus’s flat. I wasn’t sure, in fact, that the corpse had been removed – my informant didn’t know that, I presume – and, if it was Semprius, I was prepared to take it back for burial. But I see that it has gone. Have I to thank you for arranging that?’
I shook my head. ‘The army death cart took it earlier today. A gooseboy found him and alerted them. And it was Semprius all right – I went to see the corpse. He’s been stripped and robbed – and badly damaged too. They seem to think that rebels were to blame.’
Properus looked thoughtful. ‘He had my master’s seal-ring too, I think – he had it earlier – though no doubt the robbers will have taken that.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what the guild will say, when they find out it’s gone. It will probably delay my licence even more. But I sound very selfish, with poor Semprius dead. I was fond of the old man – and he of me, I think.’ He turned to me, his handsome face grown grave. ‘Was it really Druid raiders, do you think? I understand that’s what the army says, but I cannot imagine why rebels would want to kill a harmless aged slave.’ He made a rueful face. ‘Or for that matter, why anyone should send false messages to me.’
I stared at him. ‘And did they?’
He nodded. ‘Indeed so, councillor – taking me out of town for half a day to meet a member of our guild who was not there. That’s why I wasn’t at my apartment when you called.’ He ran an embarrassed hand across his face. ‘I was to meet him on the Aqua Sulis road, at the first civilian inn, and he would endorse my application to the guild – but though I waited hours he did not arrive, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the messenger was false. You’re famously skilled at solving mysteries. What is your opinion, citizen?’
