She looked so eager at the prospect that it was hard to shake my head. ‘We must be on the road. But it’s possible that there is something you could do for us. Though I’ll have to discuss it with my family.’ I turned to Gwellia who had broken the scorched spelt-bread into two and was now spreading it with runny cheese for me, and said in Latin, ‘We could leave the baby here, and have it wet-nursed, do you think? Just for a day or two. It’s thriving so much better, I’m sure Kennis would agree.’
‘If we’re going to do that, why not leave him here, as well?’ She glanced at Marcellinus, who had put his pigeon down and was sitting on damp grass with the other boys, absorbed in trying to whirl a buzz-bone on a string. They had not a word in common – except for ‘pigeon’ now – but they seemed to understand each other well enough. He made the pig-bone whistle sing and they all laughed heartily. ‘He doesn’t speak their language, but he would be safer here – for all kinds of reasons.’
‘Kennis would not bear it,’ I said, biting my breakfast, which – surprisingly – tasted not unpleasant, apart from the charred crust.
Gwellia glanced at the so-called Kennis anxiously, but she was paying no attention to our conversation: she was sitting on a rough, three-legged stool beneath a tree, tired and dishevelled, but watching her young son indulgently.
‘I suspect she’d be persuaded,’ my wife said, thoughtfully. ‘She’d agree to any hardship to keep the boy from harm. And if we are in greater danger than we were – as seems to be the case – better to split the party. If anybody comes seeking us, it will be the cart they follow, and they won’t come looking here. She’d see the sense in that. Though she does not know the truth about her husband yet. When are you going to break the news to her?’
‘Time enough for that when we get official word,’ I answered. ‘I fear the authorities will find me soon enough, and then she’ll have to know. I’ll try to negotiate on her behalf – it should be clear that Marcus had intended that I should, even if the document was never signed.’ She was looking puzzled, so I explained about the formal appointment of myself as guardian, and how Varius and his brother had never witnessed it. ‘But I have that other letter under seal, of course, which gives me some authority.’
‘So you will be needed to act for Julia?’
I nodded. ‘Even if Marcus has been subject to an imperial interdict – in which case everything he had will be forfeit to the Emperor – she should at least be entitled to the Corinium estate. I’m not certain of the details of the law, but I’m sure that Marcus said that if a husband dies anything his widow brought as dowry reverts to her at once, and is no longer counted as part of his estate. If I can prove that he was dead before the interdict was served, the Corinium house would not be forfeited.’
But Gwellia was not listening. Her eyes widened, suddenly. ‘An imperial interdict? You think that someone killed him to oblige the Emperor?’
‘If Marcus was subject to an infamia decree, he would no longer have the protection of the law – anyone could kill him, with impunity, and even expect the Emperor Didius to be pleased and suitably grateful. And that seems probable. He’s had several of Pertinax’s friends disposed of elsewhere, I believe.’
‘But in that case, why the need for secrecy? The murderer would surely want to make it known, in the hope of winning a reward.’
I made a helpless gesture. ‘That did occur to me. So it’s more likely, don’t you think (supposing that there was such an imperial decree), that Marcus took his own life, rather than be banished to some barren rocky isle, and have his family reduced to penury? The indict would not then apply to them at all – presuming that they were not named in it themselves.’
‘But if the Emperor issued an edict of banishment it would be served by the authorities and put in force at once. More so, if infamia was declared. How would your patron know in time to kill himself?’
‘Suppose that someone warned him that a decree was on its way? He had his friends among the councillors, and it would be like my patron to have seen the threat, and sacrificed himself for Julia’s sake. It would account for why the curia want to talk to me. And it would explain the secrecy as well – Marcus was much-respected among the Glevum populace. The authorities might fear there would be riots if the people knew that he’d been driven to an honourable suicide – though they could not safely protest against the Emperor’s edict, of itself.’
My wife was shaking her head unhappily. ‘It won’t be easy to persuade the courts of Julia’s claim, if you have the Emperor as an enemy.’ She sighed. ‘It’s worse than I supposed. I simply thought that Marcus been been killed by whoever wrote that note – like Varius and his brother.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘And it’s still a possible explanation, I suppose. He did receive that threatening letter, after all. The idea of an edict is speculation, nothing more – though it does seem likely, given all the facts. But either way, it’s clear that Glevum is a dangerous place just now, especially for my patron’s family. That’s why I propose to carry on as planned, and hide Julia and the children as I promised Marcus that I would.’
‘At Eliana’s vacant property, I assume? You haven’t changed the plan?’ She handed me a pitcher of cold water as she spoke.
I nodded doubtfully, and – since no cup was offered – tipped back my head and poured some down my throat. ‘That is still my intention,’ I agreed, wiping the droplets from my beard. ‘Though, if they’re seeking me to answer to the curia, it may not be safe for long. But it will give us a few days, at least. I had been proposing to send Marcus word from there, through Junio, perhaps – but now I am not certain what to do. If no one comes to find us, perhaps we’ll stay awhile – at least until there’s certainty from Rome.’
‘You still think that Didius will fall?’
I glanced around, but no one seemed concerned at this protracted conversation in a foreign tongue. Caeder’s mother even smiled at me, and I returned the grin, nodding appreciatively at the water jug. Then I turned to Gwellia again. ‘I’m certain that he will, if what Marcus told me turns out to be true. So when – and if – a new emperor is proclaimed, we may be able to appeal to him on Julia’s behalf. Especially if Septimius Severus succeeds – he was a one-time friend of Pertinax, and is likely to be sympathetic to my patron’s widow’s cause …’ I broke off as Marcellinus came proudly up to us, to demonstrate his new-found skill of whistling the bone. I hoped he hadn’t heard me mention widowhood.
At his approach his mother brought her stool across and came to join us too. Gwellia raised an expectant brow at me. ‘Libertus has something he wants to say to you. About the children, as I understand.’
Kennis looked enquiringly and I was forced to speak. ‘The boy seems very happy,’ I muttered awkwardly. ‘The company of other children, possibly?’ It sounded pointed, but she did not take offence.
She nodded. ‘He’s never had a playmate other than a slave. And I think he’s had more fun with that old piece of bone than most of the elaborate toys his father’s bought for him.’ She sounded almost rueful, and I seized my chance.
‘Then there is a proposition I would like to make to you. It will not be easy, but I think it would be best.’ I offered the suggestion which we’d outlined earlier. ‘I know it would be hard to leave the children here, but it might be better for us all. The fee would help this struggling family as well. I’m certain they would take good care of him, and the infant’s health could well depend on it. And it would not be for long. Once we are safely settled we can think again.’
She bit her lip and drooped her head into her hands ‘I think their father would be horrified,’ she said. ‘But there may be a certain sense in what you say. For the infant in particular.’
I was so anxious to convince her that I hardly heard. ‘After all, it’s not unusual,’ I urged. ‘Lots of rich parents farm their children out – at least until they’re weaned. And look at Marcellinus. Have you seen him happier? Do you think he would be better on the road w
ith us, subject to discomfort and the risk of who-knows-what? To say nothing of betraying who we are, by some childish chatter, and bringing danger down on all of us. Even his father would have understood.’
If I’d used the wrong tense, she did not notice it. ‘Then I will trust your judgement, my old friend – I know my husband does. He has placed me in your hands.’ She glanced at Caeder’s mother who was watching us, still cradling the gurgling infant in her arms. ‘You think the woman will consent?’
‘I think she’ll be relieved,’ my wife put in. ‘I own I am, myself. I was anxious for the baby. Libertus, speak to her.’
I shook my head. I know how things are managed in a Celtic house. I went and spoke to Esa, who was busy with his hare. He pretended to be doubtful, but I could read his eyes and I knew he was delighted at the prospect of the silver coins which I produced out of my purse. ‘Four at once, and in advance, to cover all expense – and the same again when we return, if we find both the children clean and fed, in good health and – most of all – content.’
He pondered for a moment, then put down his skinning knife and wiped his bloodied hands on the damp grass. ‘I’ll have to talk it over with my wife!’ He went across to her.
I heard them murmuring. I could see that she was nodding eagerly, though he shook his head at her. He came back slowly, ‘Well, traveller, we would have a contract – it appears – if we had any notion of how long this will last. When do you expect to be this way again? And what kind of surety can you offer us that you will not simply leave the babes and disappear?’
‘You have my word as a Celtic nobleman,’ I said. ‘Which happens to be that of a Roman citizen, as well. And look at the children’s mother, if you have any doubt. Do you suppose that she would just abandon them? Her one concern is for their health and happiness.’
He took up the knife again, and set to work. ‘Then make a proper oath!’
‘I make a solemn promise before the ancient gods, that I’ll be back again, at the latest, within a half a moon. It may be – if we are satisfied with what we find – that we’ll renew the contract then. Either that, or we will pay you what we owe and take the children back.’
He nodded grudgingly. ‘Agreed.’ He spat on his palm and I did the same, then we clasped our dampened hands, in token of a contract. ‘Though this arrangement may not be for long, you say?’ There was disappointment in his tone – despite his reservations of a moment earlier.
‘That depends on what awaits us when we get where we are going.’
He looked at me suspiciously. ‘And where is that, exactly, citizen?’
‘I wish I knew,’ I told him truthfully. ‘Somewhere on the road to Aquae Sulis – I believe. I’m hoping that I’ll recognize the house – or failing that, that I’ll find someone who can tell me where it is. It used to be a profitable farm and orchard, once, but then there was a fire and it has grown ruined since. The story must be well-known in the neighbourhood. The owner was crippled in the blaze and died quite recently.’
‘And what is your interest in the place? Do you inherit it?’ He stopped to stare at me.
I shook my head. ‘Unfortunately not. The presumptive legatee is dead. It is not clear who’ll have it now. Possibly the widow, or perhaps the Emperor. Or the courts may have to sell the whole estate, to settle debts. My patron is – or rather, was – an important magistrate, with a professional interest in the case.’
‘So the search for the treasure never came to anything?’ He eased the knife into the space above the head and pulled the skin off in a single piece.
‘Treasure?’ It was my turn now to stare. And then I realized the implications of what the trapper had just said. ‘You know the place?’ I could hardly believe it. ‘I don’t think Caeder did?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t suppose he would. I only heard the rumour after he was sold – when I’d passed him to the trader and was on my way back here. I fell into conversation with a man I met, who’d also sold a slave to the same dealer at the same address. Apparently that was the very last of the staff of that estate. His owner had instructed him the day before, to sell on all the servants and shut up the place – only this old manservant was going to stay with her.’
‘You can’t mean Hebestus!’ I was thunderstruck. ‘A tall, thin, bald fellow in an ochre uniform?’
‘Was that his name? I don’t remember it. But he did tell me this. She had conceived a sudden notion that there might be something hidden in the fields – something that her husband tried to say before he died – and she was going to make this fellow go out with a spade and see if she was right. I did not envy him. He was of advancing years and never a land-slave by the look of him. Besides he was quite sure that there was nothing there – the steward would have had it years ago, he said.’
He put the skin down on the tree-stump he’d been using as a bench, and picked the hare up by its two hind legs. ‘This is the real treasure of the fields,’ he said, triumphantly. ‘There will be stew and plenty for us all tonight.’
Perhaps Eliana’s steward had found some hidden gold, I thought – that would explain how he had bought freedom for himself. But then I changed my mind. If the steward had found money, he would not have stayed at all – unless the sum concerned was very small. And clearly Eliana had not discovered it – she would never have come to Varius if she had money in her purse. Perhaps I’d look myself! I turned to Esa. ‘Can you tell me how to get to the estate? Did he describe the place? On the road to Aquae Sulis, I believe?’
‘We travelled back together – we were both on foot. Like me, he did not have the coin to pay anyone a fare, though of course he was not going as far as this. He stopped to make an offering at his owner’s tomb, a handsome family vault on the road outside the town – apparently his mistress was concerned that she’d no longer be able to perform the rituals. I waited while he poured some oil into the sacrificial urn – it did not take him long and frankly, I was glad of company. We hadn’t much to steal, but when you are foot-traffic and you’re travelling for hours, there’s always the possibility of someone robbing you, even if you’re walking on a major road. When we reached the farm estate, he took his leave of me and I came on alone. But he did point out the house, which you could just see through the trees. I can’t describe exactly where it was – but I could show you the turning where he joined the lane into the farm.’
NINETEEN
I was so astonished at this unexpected news, that I called out to Gwellia in delight. ‘The Fates have spun a lucky thread for us. Esa can guide us to the property. He knows where to find it.’
I had spoken in Celtic, and the man’s wife heard me too. ‘You’ll take him on the ox-cart?’ she said, delightedly. ‘He can go on to Aquae Sulis and buy supplies for us – that would be wonderful. Things like flour are so much cheaper in the town. And perhaps he could bring back a pair of live hens, too? We used to have some until quite recently, but we were forced to eat them when times got very bad – and ever since we’ve sorely missed the eggs.’
‘And how would you have me bring them back again?’ Esa was clearly unimpressed with this idea. ‘Bad enough to manage what we bought with Caeder’s sale – cooking pots and turnips – but live poultry and a sack of flour? On my back for twenty miles, like some beast of burden, I suppose? Or give half the money to some farmer on the road, for the privilege of riding in his cart?’
‘It might be worth the outlay, given such a chance,’ she said, stoutly. ‘When will you next get free transport halfway to the town? And you’ll have to make your annual visit sometime, anyway. Make a day of it, and get everything we need.’
‘And where do you suggest I spend the night? The slave-trader gave me floor-space, last time, but only because I had a boy to sell. There’s a room at the temple, where travellers can go, but that’s reserved for pilgrims to the shrine and one would be expected to provide an offering. I always could sleep beside a hedge, of course, I’ve done so many times, but you don’t want your
provisions spoiling in the dew – or worse still, in the rain.’ He shook his head. ‘Better for me to simply guide our visitors and then come straight back here, while you bargain at the crossroads as you always do. I’ll go to Aquae Sulis when we’ve been paid the rest for fostering the children for a half a moon. Then, perhaps, we can afford these little luxuries.’
His wife was disappointed and she shook her head. Kennis saw the gesture, and came hurrying across. ‘They won’t agree to have the children?’ she enquired. I had forgotten that she would not have understood a word.
‘Not at all,’ I reassured her. ‘That is now agreed.’ I explained the source of the discussion and she made a face at me.
‘Couldn’t Esa use the mule to take his purchases? Minimus could go with him and bring it back to us.’ She glanced towards our hosts. ‘I suppose it’s always possible that something unfortunate will happen to the beast – or even to the slave – but it seems a tiny price to pay to have a guide. Otherwise we will be forced to ask someone locally, possibly revealing who we are. Besides—’ she gave me her most charming smile – ‘it’s not only Esa’s family who will benefit if Esa gets to town. Marcellinus will flourish better on rye flour and fresh eggs.’
Put like that, I could hardly disagree, though I was reluctant to part with Arlina, even for the necessary day or two. I had been planning to use her to ride into town myself, mostly to make enquiries about Eliana’s husband and her farm, but also partly out of curiosity. I had never been to Aquae Sulis in my life, though I knew its reputation, naturally. It is famous as a place of religious pilgrimage, with a temple and bath complex at the heart of it – and an associated market settlement has become a busy town, straggling towards the fortified river-crossing further north.
The Ides of June Page 17
