The Ides of June

by Rosemary Rowe

  After the dimness of the cave, even the dusk seemed fairly bright at first and we walked quite quickly for a little while, though a brisk little evening breeze was springing up and when we had to light our taper it did not serve us well. Even our attempts to shield it with our hands did not protect it and it very soon blew out, leaving us to stumble blindly in the dark. Only the faintest of brief glimmers in the sky – sparks from the fire in the kitchen-block perhaps – glowed now and then above the trees to guide us back. If it had not been for an intermittent moon, occasionally peeping through the clouds, it might have been difficult to find our way at all.

  As it was, it took us a long time to reach the house – more than once we wandered off the path and lost our footing in the dark – and when at last we stumbled up the steps and through the door, it was to find one single taper burning on the spike, and an anxious Tenuis awaiting us.

  ‘Ah there you are, master and mistress!’ he cried, as we appeared. ‘You have been away so long, I began to fear that you were lost, or had encountered wolves. But I see that you are safe. I’ve made your bed for you – in the triclinium. I thought it would be warmer in there than the larger rooms. The other mistress has already gone to bed. I gave her a small taper because she does not like the dark, but she has been sleeping almost ever since you left.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  My wife inspected the sleeping arrangements that the slave had made for us, and nodded her approval. ‘Very well, Tenuis! You may go and rest, yourself. I assume you banked the fire?’

  ‘As well as I was able, mistress, with the few small logs we had. Though I was hoping …?’

  Gwellia glanced at me. ‘Unfortunately we found nothing that was suitable.’

  ‘We found a corpse, though!’ Minimus put in, excitedly. ‘Two of them, in fact. The master thinks they were the sons of the estate.’

  ‘The children of that bird-woman that spoke to you in town?’ Tenuis paused in the doorway and shot me a puzzled look. ‘I thought she said that they’d been dead for years.’

  ‘They died during the awful fire at the estate. But the bodies weren’t discovered. They were in an inner cave.’ Gwellia gave a little shudder at the memory. ‘The young men must have gone in there to shelter from the blaze, but found that they were trapped inside – and either starved to death or suffocated by breathing in the smoke. Perhaps that’s what helped preserve them, in the end, so they were bizarrely smoked like cheese or fish.’ She glanced at me. ‘Do you not think so, husband? You are looking unconvinced.’

  I shook a warning head. Tenuis was visibly pale, shaken and aghast. He had not seen the horrors in the cave, but his imagination was clearly painting pictures in his mind.

  ‘Certainly the bodies were macabre – and I’m sure they date back to the fire,’ I said, pacifically, sitting on the pile of bedding reeds to unlace my sandal-straps, while Minimus knelt at Gwellia’s feet and undid hers for her. ‘Though the circumstances might not be exactly as you think. But – enough of this for now. There is quite enough to give us nightmares, as it is! Tenuis, retire – and be ready to attend to Julia when she wakes. Minimus, help your mistress take her cloak and tunic off, then blow out the candle and go to sleep yourself. Thanks to my clever wife, we can kindle fire again tomorrow, if the kitchen fire goes out.’

  Gwellia permitted herself to be undressed, then sank down on the bed-reeds at my side and spread the tunics so they covered us, but I could feel that she was sleepless and rigid, even in the dark. After a long time, she dug me in the ribs.

  ‘Husband, there is something that you’re not telling me’ she pleaded, whispering. ‘I understand you did not want to terrify the slaves, but if you don’t share your doubts with me I shall not sleep, myself. What do you mean, “the circumstances may not be what I think”? You said yourself the bodies were preserved by chance.’

  I thumped the reeds to shape a better pillow for my head. ‘Indeed,’ I muttered, sleepily, ‘but they could hardly have been trapped inside the cave by accident. I’m surprised you did not see that for yourself, but I’ll explain it in the morning. Try to sleep for now.’

  I felt her whirl around beside me and sit upright in the dark. ‘I shan’t sleep for an instant if you don’t explain it now. Of course it was an accident – what else could it have been …?’ She tailed off. ‘Oh dear gods – you can’t think that someone came and walled them in alive? Not on purpose! That would be even worse than being trapped by some mischance.’

  She couldn’t see me, but I shook my head. ‘It did not happen while they were alive, perhaps. The bodies didn’t look as though they’d struggled to get out, so I presume they were already dead. But I’m absolutely certain that someone walled them in.’

  There was a moment’s silence while my wife digested this. ‘Because of the stones and rubble piled up outside to hide the opening? But I thought we had concluded that Eliana did that, fairly recently.’

  ‘I’m talking about the time when they were first hidden there. I don’t believe that wine-rack moved itself,’ I said. ‘And it had clearly been in front of the entrance to the inner cave, until the fallen rock demolished it. Maybe it always stood there to disguise the opening – probably it did, and the young men came and moved it to get in. But absolutely certainly they did not move it back.’

  Gwellia said nothing, as she thought this through. Then she murmured, ‘I suppose you’re right. So you suggest that someone came when they were dead, and closed the cave to hide them for some reason of his own?’

  ‘Such as trying to disguise the fact that he had murdered them?’ I said. ‘I think that’s very probable.’

  ‘Murder?’ Gwellia’s gasp of horror made me instantly regret that I’d succumbed to the temptation of expressing it that way. ‘I thought they simply had gone into the cave – perhaps looking for that family treasure that we’ve heard about, to save it from the fire – and been overwhelmed by smoke. Is that not probable? As sons of the estate they would have known the hiding place was there.’ She had quite forgotten to speak quietly, and I heard the slave-boy stir. Now that he was listening there was no point in whispering – or in trying any longer to protect them from the truth. Imagination would be worse than facts.

  ‘Dead men don’t chop off their own hands,’ I said. ‘Nor move them afterwards. And the right arms of both corpses had been hacked off at the wrists – though there is no sign of the parts that were removed. Did you not notice when we were in the cave?’

  I felt Gwellia shudder. ‘I was trying not to look!’

  A rustling at the bottom of the bed told me that Minimus had joined his sleeping pile to ours – obviously too terrified to sleep alone. ‘But why chop the hands off?’ His voice was wavering. ‘That’s just inviting ghosts. Now the spirits will have to walk the earth to look for them.’

  I sat upright in bed. ‘This is ridiculous. If we are going to talk about these things, we will do it in the light. I was going to wait till morning, but I see that we shall have to do it now, or none of us will have a moment’s rest. Minimus, there should be a piece of taper in the room where Julia is – if the Fates are smiling, it will be still alight. Go and fetch it, quickly, and bring it back in here.’

  There was a bumping as the boy went stumbling about, then a creak as he succeeded in opening our door – an act rewarded by a faint glow from across the atrium suggesting that there was indeed a candle still burning in the room beyond. Minimus bent over and fumbled underneath his bedding-reeds. ‘I’ve got the taper-end that I put out,’ he said, triumphantly. ‘I’ll light it at the flame and bring that back to you.’ And his dim shape disappeared in the direction of the glow.

  In the semi-darkness, Gwellia caught my hand. ‘And is there an answer to his question? Why cut off the hands? Simple cruelty? Some kind of evil sacrifice? Revenge? Or is this the curse that people tried to warn us of?’

  ‘I think the killer had a use for them,’ I said. ‘I think he cut them off and plunged them in the fire, so that the rin
gs could be identified. Remember I told you what Hebestus said about the sons – only a few fragments of charred bone were ever found? But how could anyone be certain whose bones they had been?’

  ‘Seal-rings!’ Gwellia breathed. ‘Of course! Eliana would have recognized them as her sons’! But presumably the rings would come off easily enough. In that case why not simply just produce the seals?’

  ‘That would not suffice to prove the boys were dead, or – more importantly – imply how they had died. There had to be some circumstantial bone as well – something to suggest that they’d perished in the fire. Those corpses were missing only one hand each – I noticed that at once. There had to be a reason, but it wasn’t till I thought of seal-rings that the answer came to me. And that confirmed my theory about whose the bodies were …’ I broke off as Minimus came back into the room, carrying the re-lighted taper-end.

  Even a small flame gives off surprising light, and as the illumination drove the shadows back, my spirits lifted too. (I am not generally given to fear of the unknown, but tonight even I had been half-ready for unwanted visitations from the Afterworld.) Gwellia and Minimus simply looked relieved.

  ‘Your master has a theory,’ Gwellia began – and outlined to Minimus what I’d said about the hands. I did not interrupt her – though some of her account did not exactly tally with the conclusions that I’d drawn. I knew that, in explaining to the slave, she was calming her own anxieties, so I let her talk – it gave me the opportunity to clarify my thoughts.

  My wife had clearly been thinking hard herself. She finished her recital and then she turned to me. ‘But you still think that they were murdered, husband? They didn’t simply die – even if someone did remove the hands? We know there was a fire. Perhaps they did not burn to death as everybody first thought, but could they not have suffocated as I had supposed? Or was there evidence of some other cause of death I did not see?’

  ‘I think that someone stabbed them underneath the ribs, and virtually disembowelled them,’ I replied. ‘Did you not notice …’

  She closed her eyes against the memory. ‘I thought they had exploded, or something horrible … Part of whatever process preserved them in the cave.’

  ‘I was inclined to think so, too, at first. Perhaps it even helped the bodies to remain – since the stomach contents were no longer there to rot – but the lower clothing was in tatters, as though it had been slashed, and stiff and stained with something dark that looked like blood to me. But there were no such stains around the wrists, which suggests that the removal of the hands was a kind of afterthought – done when the victims had been dead some time. A closer inspection would no doubt tell us more.’

  ‘But shouldn’t they be lying in a pool of blood, if that was how they died? And there was no sign of that! Of course this would have happened many years ago, but the floor of the cave was simply scattered stones – no discoloured patches on the rocks.’

  ‘Exactly. I’m inclined to think the victims were murdered somewhere else – the outer cave perhaps, since there are dark stains by the stone amphora-rack which I supposed were wine – and dragged there afterwards. Though since the killer’s dead, I suppose we’ll never know.’

  ‘Dead? Why do you think that he is dead?’ my wife exclaimed. ‘I thought the lazy steward must have murdered them, but isn’t he alive?’

  ‘The only person we know about who’s dead, is Eliana’s husband. Or do you think their father killed them?’ Minimus was shocked enough to speak without requesting our permission first.

  I did not rebuke him. ‘On the contrary. I think that Varius did,’ I said, and had the satisfaction of seeing my companions look surprised. ‘And I’m just as certain that Eliana came to that conclusion too. She told me he was visiting the villa “just about the time that awful fire took place” – she even told me that he helped to fight the fire. In fact, I think, she realized that he was probably to blame for starting it. But she also said, “my sons were still alive” – those were her very words. Looking back, I see that she connected him with that event. So he cost her everything – her sons, her husband’s health and finally the farm.’

  ‘But she still accepted his hospitalit …’ Gwellia trailed off. Her eyes grew very wide. ‘She was the one who poisoned him? That’s why she agreed to come to Glevum, so she could get revenge? Is that what you believe?’

  ‘If I’m right about the moment when she worked out the truth, I think she had already consented to the move. But when she found the bodies, she did not change her mind. Quite the contrary, she abandoned her half-hearted search for treasure in the grounds – Hebestus had been fearing that he’d have to dig, but we’ve seen no sign that such a thing took place. Coming to Glevum gave her a proper purpose, now – the opportunity to avenge her family.’

  ‘I wonder she did not seek redress through the courts. A mother may appeal for vengeance for a murdered son, in person if she has no one to speak for her – it’s almost the only reason a woman may bring a case at all.’

  ‘But Eliana did have somebody to speak for her,’ I said. ‘Varius himself had potestas. So there was no hope of justice from the magistrates. And what other recourse did she have? Even her wish to sue her steward was refused – probably because he was secretly in Varius’s employ. He may have been the one who actually set the fields alight – someone was clearly paying him small sums for several years, though freedom was probably the promised recompense. But he could not get that until his former owner died and Varius was formally declared the residuary heir. It would be interesting to find that steward and hear what he has to say, now that Varius is no longer here to threaten him.’

  Gwellia shook her head. ‘And that’s not very likely. He will have disappeared. And the same thing’s true of every point you’ve made. You may be right in much of what you say, but how could it be proved? We have no evidence beyond the bodies in the cave – and the fact that someone left the herbs and closed the entrance up. You don’t even know for certain that Eliana was responsible for that.’

  ‘I think she would confirm it, if we asked!’ I said. ‘Now that Varius is dead, she has nothing more to lose. She might even welcome the fact that his treachery was known.’

  ‘Though she has become a murderer herself? And not merely Varius, but Claudius too – and many of the household slaves as well! Would she not fear exile of the harshest kind, at least?’

  ‘Even an unskilled advocate would plead she was provoked, and acted to avenge her family. The court might be persuaded to be merciful. Besides, Varius himself was guilty of a capital offence. Arson and the murder of two Roman citizens! I don’t applaud her actions – she has killed a lot of people who did her no harm at all – but I can understand her motives. And as for punishment, I do not think she’d care. She’s given up the will to live. She’d done what she intended and “outlived her usefulness”, so she has given up food and may have starved herself to death by now. But I should have liked to speak to her and see if my conclusions were correct. It’s only a pity Marcus is no longer here to help, or I’d—’

  I was interrupted by a figure at the door. ‘What is happening here?’ Julia was standing with her candle in her hand, and little Tenuis attending her, behind. I had been so intent on speaking that I’d not seen them come. ‘I thought that the agreement was that we should go to bed early and eke the tapers out. But obviously that’s no longer true. First a slave came to my room and wakened me. Then I heard voices here and saw the light – and when I followed them I heard my husband’s name. Is there some problem? Has something happened that I don’t know about?’

  There was a silence. Gwellia looked at me. ‘We made a discovery in the wine-cave,’ I explained. ‘A fairly grisly one – but it does suggest that Varius’s death was a revenge, within the family. In the normal way, I would have sent to Marcus, to tell him my suspicions and asking him to question the surviving members of the house. But—’

  ‘So Varius was not a victim of those threats!’ Julia interrupt
ed. ‘Or do you think the killer sent the other letters too, to disguise his real intention and divert suspicion from himself?’

  The letters! After the discovery of the bodies in the cave, I’d almost forgotten the question of the threats. But if I was right about the death of Varius, it raised a whole new aspect of the affair.

  ‘I don’t believe that Varius got one after all,’ I said. ‘But I do have the beginning of an idea about those notes. I want to think it through before I tell you more, to make sure there’s nothing that I’ve overlooked, but I think that I can promise you that there’s no danger here. This estate will fall into the public purse, I think, and I’m carrying an authority to occupy the house – sealed by a magistrate – so we can stay until Didius’ decrees are nullified, and it’s safe to return to Glevum – or perhaps Corinium.’

  ‘You think that Marcus has been subject to an imperial interdict? You don’t mean he’s been banished?’

  I did not, in fact, of course. I was convinced that Marcus had evaded it. But I was saved from the necessity of saying so by the sudden expiration of the taper that she held.

  ‘Dear gods!’ she said. ‘The candle has gone out. How will I find my way back to my room again?’

  ‘Minimus will guide you,’ I said, thankfully. ‘Though that taper will not last much longer, either. It has almost gone. Go back to rest, and we will do the same. And don’t concern yourself unnecessarily. There are problems in Glevum, I will not deny, but I don’t believe that Marcus is in any immediate danger now.’

  Julia needed no more encouragement than that, and in the sudden dark my wife reached for my hand.

  ‘I’m very glad you told me what you thought. I feel less troubled now. And you managed an awkward moment very cleverly. Though sometime we’ll have to tell Julia the truth.’