The Grain Merchant, page 25
Ebrimuth stared blankly, then glanced at a chair and sank his frame down across from Argolicus, arranging his sword and long knife to be comfortable. Then he ran his hands through his mane of golden hair.
“I was going to show her the estate. We planned to go there, so she could decide where her things would go. That was this afternoon.” He looked up at his friend. “But I came early, and she’s not there.”
Nikolaos returned with two wine goblets, handing one to Ebrimuth and setting the other in front of Argolicus on the table.
Ebrimuth took a long drink. He gazed around the study. “You and your books.”
Argolicus ignored his remark. “There are many reasons she might not be there if you were coming this afternoon. She may have been settling some last arrangements for the house or out buying something special to wear. Women are complex.”
“Ah, yes. You were married. Was Julia capricious?” He took another sip of wine.
“No, but she did things that made no sense to me.”
“So, you don’t think she went off to see Gregorius?”
Argolicus swallowed the laugh. “No, I’m certain it’s something very mundane. I know she is eager to be with you. She told me so yesterday when she brought me this document.” He lifted the list of Quintinus’ loans.
Ebrimuth took a sip of wine and sat back in the chair. “I was worried.”
“I understand. Proba is sensible. She takes care of details. She’s not just closing up the house, she is closing her father’s estate. I suggested she find someone to...”
He looked at Ebrimuth who was finally relaxed.
“Put down your wine. Let’s go together to her house.”
Ebrimuth, startled, put the almost empty goblet on the table.
“What?”
“I made a mistake,” Argolicus said. “If anything is wrong, it’s my fault.”
“What mistake?”
“I’ll tell you on the way to her house.”
Argolicus, Ebrimuth, Nikolaos, Eboric, and Kunimund stood at the door to Proba’s house. Ebrimuth paced back and forth as they waited for the door to open.
“Let me talk,” Argolicus said, fearing his friend would frighten Proba’s slave.
When the door opened, a short but sturdy man peered out. Recognizing Argolicus and Ebrimuth he smiled. “The mistress is out.”
“Yes, where did she go?” Argolicus asked.
The man hesitated. “She doesn’t tell me where she is going.”
Ebrimuth stamped his foot.
Argolicus gave him a sideways look, then spoke to the doorman. “Is there someone here who would know? It’s important.”
The man looked confused, then said. “I’ll ask.”
“If anything has happened to her...” Ebrimuth punched the wall.
“We’ll find out. One step at a time,” Argolicus said, trying to keep worry out of his voice.
After what seemed like a long time, the doorman opened the door and pushed out a young girl. “Go ahead,” he said. “Tell them what you told me.”
“The mistress is closing the house and meeting various people, and she wanted to do one thing this morning. She took a long time getting dressed and asked me to help with her hair and then she...”
“Where was she going?” Argolicus cut in.
“To the magistrate, that’s why she wanted to look especially good because she wanted to ask him a favor, and she was nervous, and she wanted the blue tunic and I couldn’t find it...”
“Which magistrate?” Argolicus asked.
“The one with the long name, the magistrate. She was so nervous and...”
“Vespasianus?” Argolicus asked.
“Yes, yes, that’s his name, how did you know? I finally found the blue tunic...”
“Thank you,” Argolicus said, turning on his heels.
Argolicus led them to Vespasianus’ house. Ebrimuth banged on the door. Nothing happened.
Ebrimuth glowered and banged on the door again.
At last the door opened and the large, lumbering doorman looked at them all, taking in Ebrimuth and the bodyguards and their swords and knives. “The master is engaged,” he said. “Come back another time.”
Before Ebrimuth could speak, Argolicus said, “The mistress Proba? Quintina Proba?”
The man’s eyes widened then closed to slits. “What about her?”
That was all Argolicus needed to hear. He knew she was inside.
“We will enter,” he said, walking past the doorman, through the vestibule and into the atrium. The four men followed as the doorman blustered, “You can’t.”
The atrium was empty and silent. No slaves scurrying about. No one. Nothing. The doorman lumbered behind them.
Argolicus turned. “Go back to the door. I’ll find your master.”
The man was solid, and dumb. He followed the command.
Argolicus listened. At first, he heard nothing, then he heard Proba’s voice from the back of the house.
“No.”
Ebrimuth must have heard her too because he was striding toward the peristylum. Argolicus caught up with him, and they entered side by side.
Vespasianus stood in the center, the morning sun shining down on his dark hair and embroidery. He was gripping Proba’s arm. “You owe it to your father,” he said.
Proba tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. Then she saw Argolicus and Ebrimuth. Her dark eyes turned from anger to relief.
Argolicus put out his arm to keep Ebrimuth from Vespasianus. Ebrimuth stared at his friend. Argolicus shook his head. “Roman way,” he said.
Vespasianus turned still holding Proba’s arm. “Argolicus, this is not a good time. I was asking Quintinus Cocceia Proba to marry me. This is a private moment.”
“What was her answer?” Argolicus asked.
“She hadn’t given a final answer. We were just...”
“No,” Proba said. “I said no.” She glared at Vespasianus, her dark eyes flashing. “Let go of me.”
“You’re just like your father, you won’t listen to reason.” Vespasianus thrust back her arm. “I told him...” He stopped.
Proba ran to Ebrimuth. He cradled her in his arms.
“I have questions,” Argolicus said.
“I answered your questions. Just go away. Take your barbarian friends and leave.”
“In a minute,” Argolicus said. “What did you tell Quintinus?”
There was a long silence. The only sound was Proba crying.
Ebrimuth moved to take her back to the atrium.
“Stay, we all need to hear what Vespasianus has to say.”
“All of you,” Vespasianus said. “You all conspired against me. Her father,” he pointed at Proba, “wouldn’t listen to reason. I asked to marry his daughter and he said no.”
“I didn’t... He never told me,” Proba said, astonished.
“That’s what I mean,” Vespasianus said. “It was a conspiracy to bring my downfall. Your father was unreasonable. If I married you, I thought he would cancel the loan. But he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t care about other people, only money.”
Argolicus tried to make sense of the twisted logic.
“You wanted to marry her, so he would cancel the loan?”
“Yes, he would bring me to ruin. I’m a magistrate. I have a position to uphold. It was a simple solution. And if that’s not bad enough, that fool Donicus said he would tell everyone.”
“Tell everyone what?”
“How I knew about the grain in the warehouses. He told me he’d made a deal with Quintinus. And when he told me before the council meeting, I knew that the town was in trouble. Everyone was out to destroy my position in the town. Quintinus with money, Donicus with my reputation.”
“You knew about the extra grain? And you let the people suffer needlessly?” Argolicus couldn’t believe the man’s self-centered focus.
Proba had stopped crying. She stared at Vespasianus. “My father would never...”
“Your father was an obstinate money grabber,” Vespasianus said, anger rising in his voice. “It would have been so simple to make it all go away. But, no. He had to have his way.”
Argolicus looked at the man trying to bluff his way through an irrational explanation. The sunlight gleamed on the bright, gold beads threaded into the tunic’s embroidery. Gold beads. He knew who killed Quintinus.
“You found a way to stop him,” Argolicus said. “You killed him.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Vespasianus’ livid face grimaced. “He was in the way. Just like that fool Donicus...”
Proba flew out of Ebrimuth’s arms striking Vespasianus over and over, a powerhouse of anger repeating, “My father. My father!”
Vespasianus tried to push her away, but her tiny body eluded his blows as she struck him.
Ebrimuth rushed in to pull away Proba. In a confusion of movement, Vespasianus pulled Ebrimuth’s long fighting knife from the scabbard hanging from his belt. Ebrimuth tugged at Proba. But Vespasianus wrenched her away.
He stood holding Proba pressed against him trying to position the long knife against her throat.
Ebrimuth pulled at Proba as Vespasianus fumbled the knife with one hand.
Argolicus recognized a man who did not know weapons. He heard Nikolaos’ voice in his head from their many practice sessions, A knife is a death threat. He had seconds to act before Vespasianus could position the knife.
He rushed in, body perpendicular to Vespasianus. The full force of his body slammed against the man’s shoulder. At the same time, he slid his right hand up between Vespasianus’ body and his forearm with the knife. He pressed the inside of the magistrate’s forearm as his left hand pushed against the outside of his wrist angling his hand down. As he pushed Vespasianus' hand to angle inward, he pushed out against his forearm at the wrist. The hand bent in a tight inward angle.
Finally, Vespasianus couldn’t resist the awkward pressure bending his hand. His fingers loosened and the knife clattered to the mosaic floor as Ebrimuth pulled Proba away from Vespasianus’ arm.
Eboric and Kunimund grabbed Vespasianus, holding his arms.
“How did you know?” Vespasianus hissed, vainly struggling against the bodyguards.
“Your beads. Your gold beads. One fell by Quintinus at the creek,” Argolicus said.
Proba looked up from Ebrimuth’s arms. “Gold beads?”
Eboric and Kunimund turned Vespasianus over to the cohorts. Ebrimuth calmed Proba by taking her home. Argolicus returned to his home in town to relax and enjoy his new life. But, first, he planned a party.
38
Days later the late afternoon sun shone down on the peristylum where Argolicus was hosting his first social event in his new home. In his mind, it wasn’t a public event, just family and friends.
Argolicus, his mother, and his friends were finally celebrating Ebrimuth and Proba’s engagement. Tables next to the chairs and benches were filled with fresh figs, plums, herbed cheese, bread, and fish cakes. Every table held a beaker of wine.
Argolicus glanced toward the entertainment room. The frescoes glowed with new colors. The craftsman Pennus had recommended had been careful and diligent. He had started with the entertainment room where everyone would eat.
“A bead,” Amalina said, smiling. “You have a talent for noticing.”
“That’s what I thought,” Proba said as she snuggled against Ebrimuth’s shoulder. “There we were with that awful man trying to bully me, and Argolicus noticed a bead.”
Argolicus said, “It comes from Father. I’ve been reading his journals. Sometimes there are details that don’t make much sense when you read them, but they were important enough for him to write them down.”
Proba crinkled her brow. “His vanity was his downfall. His pretense of luxury in the face of ruin. I hate him.” Her eyes flashed. “He tried to bully Father, and then me.”
Ebrimuth looked down at her and covered her hand with his. He turned toward Argolicus. “You never know about details, but one concerns me. What will happen to Vespasianus? You found that he killed twice. Is it up to Proba to decide? What does your Roman law say?” His large hand gently squeezed Proba’s tiny one.
“According to the king’s edicts, murder is a public matter,” Argolicus said. “Under the old Roman law it was private. Proba can sue in court. And, also under the edicts, the punishment is death.”
“If it were private,” Ebrimuth said, “I would gladly oblige.”
“No, my friend. That’s not how it works. She must sue in court. But the case of Vespasianus is more complicated than that. He also owes on the debt to Quintinus.”
“So my mother could collect?” Proba asked. “She could on anything remaining that he owns.”
Proba closed her eyes for a moment. “My mother would want the debt paid, but I doubt she would go to court. She would want it to all happen without her involvement.”
“It is up to you, then,” Argolicus said.
Proba looked up at Ebrimuth and then at Argolicus. “It’s not over, then.”
“No, it’s not,” Argolicus said. “And there’s more, and that’s his public acts.”
“What public acts?” Proba said, her brow furrowing.
“From what I can surmise, Vespasianus knew about Donicus hoarding the grain. I think they were working together to charge an outrageous price to the council to restore equilibrium. But everything came to a head before they could act on the plan. The money would have helped Vespasianus restore his financial stability.”
“He brought it on himself?” Amalina asked, tossing her long braid as she shook her head.
“Yes, when he tried to manipulate Proba, he brought everything to a head. He threatened her life.”
“One time when words were not enough,” Ebrimuth said, a twinkle in his eye. “We owe Nikolaos for his years of training. Otherwise, you might have been as bumbling as Vespasianus.”
Everyone turned to look at Nikolaos who was tending his plants. He turned around, shrugged, and said, “A tutor must instill the martial arts as well as mathematics and Greek.”
Amalina hadn’t forgotten Argolicus’ words. “So he owes the council for the hidden grain, and his attempt to swindle?”
“Exactly, plus as a public debtor, he cannot appeal any decision against his act. In his case, since he was acting as magistrate, he cannot hear his own case. He will need to stand before the governor, and abide by his decree.”
“All of this is making my head swim,” Ebrimuth said, shifting in his seat. He wrapped his arm around Proba. “Whatever she needs to do, I will stand behind her.”
Crispus, the housemaster, waddled in from the kitchen. “Dinner is ready.”
Argolicus stood. “Enough of this interpretation of the law. Let’s celebrate Proba and Ebrimuth.” He rose and placed his arm across the shoulder of his once almost bride-to-be. “Marcus Aurelius said, The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.”
Proba looked up at Ebrimuth and then Argolicus. She reached up to put her hand on Argolicus’ hand resting on her shoulder.
“Here we are.”
-The End-
Glossary
atrium - The formal reception room at the front of a Roman home. Members of the family received guests here. The roof had an opening in the middle so the room was exposed to weather. Most also had a pool of water in the middle which captured rain (impluvium).
comes civitatus - An arm of the king, far away from the throne. Under Theoderic, these men enforced the laws of The People which were different from Roman laws.
Council - The local civic legislative body, composed of all the members of the curia. The Council was led by elected officials, magistrates.
cubiculum - A small room in a domus or villa. The function differed according to what was inside the room.
curator civitas - Principal in charge of the markets, finance, and administration.
curia - The entire body of membership of the local Principals.
domus - A house in town. The homes of local Principals were large.
impluvium - The pool in the center of the atrium.
magistrate - Elected official of the Council. Theoretically every member of the curia voted, but often official votes were limited to the Principals.
mosaic - A picture or pattern produced by arranging together small colored pieces of hard material, such as stone, tile, or glass.
Naming - during the Late Roman period Roman naming was shifting. Male names often kept the filiation or middle name of a noted family member rather than the immediate father. Female names shortened to the cognomen, first name, (e.g. Proba) and the filial name, the father’s name or, sometimes, the mother’s name. Christian names of saints also became common instead of traditional Roman names.
peristylum - A large room at the back of a Roman home. The opening in the roof was larger than that of the atrium. The area was decorated with plants and flowers, often a fountain, and was a family gathering place.
praefectus urbi - Guardian of the city, enforcing laws to keep the peace.
Principal - A kind of oligarchy inner circle or “executive committee” of the council. Elected by the curia.
siesta - Afternoon rest.
tessera - Small piece of clay, stone, or glass. Assembled together by color to form mosaic images and patterns.
The People - The term King Theoderic and his people used to refer to themselves. Ostrogoth was a term invented hundreds of years later by scholars.
triclinium - The dining room. Furnished with tables set in the shape of a U. Diners reclined on benches, often padded, to eat. A diner would lean on an elbow to reach food with the opposite hand.
Author Note
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