The Price of Freedom

by Rosemary Rowe

  ‘As you command, sir!’ Trinculus, who had taken his helmet off (presumably in deference to the dead) now jammed it over his dormouse ears again, raised a stiff arm in salute, then scuttled off as if the ghost of the dead coachman might haunt him for ever if he wasted any time – as perhaps he feared it would.

  I turned to lead the others back into the house, but Loftus seemed reluctant to accompany me. He did not actually refuse, of course, but he was clearly unwilling, even when I gestured him to come – which puzzled me, until I guessed the cause. ‘You wish to keep a watch upon your friend?’

  The steward gave me a grateful glance and dropped to his knees beside the corpse. ‘Citizen, permission to close the eyes for him at least?’

  ‘And call his name three times, no doubt, while you are there, to make quite sure the ghost has flown?’ the tesserarius suggested mockingly – as though there were any possibility that life might linger in that anguished corpse.

  Loftus ignored the taunt, and addressed himself exclusively to me, ‘And I may remove the cord around the neck?’

  The principalis looked outraged and drew in a deep breath, clearly intending to protest, but I said, ‘Granted,’ before he framed the words. ‘But steward,’ I went on, ‘once you have done that, join us in the house. The funeral women will do the rest of what is needed here – wash the corpse and prepare it for the pyre. And we’ll leave them to provide the mourners, too – since you will want to join the lamentations for your owner, I presume?’ I turned to the still-bristling army officer. ‘Now, if you’d like to come this way.’

  The soldier puffed his chest out like a fattened hen. ‘You intend to leave that slave here quite unsupervised? I presume there is a rear entrance to this place – what is to prevent him making an escape? And what is this about attending his master’s funeral? He should be in custody. I released him, temporarily, at your express request …’

  ‘Into my custody, I think. And I take full responsibility. Although, now he’s answered all the questions that I put to him, he will not be returning to the cells.’

  The little officer looked ready to explode. ‘He is to be freed? On whose authority?’

  ‘That of the warrant that I showed you earlier,’ I said. ‘Which requests that you assist me in all respects and allows me to take decisions, I believe.’

  ‘Then I dispute your decision in the strongest terms! I’ll tell your patron so. I cannot accept your claim that someone murdered Flauccus and he did not kill himself – but even if true, it does not alter the steward’s case at all. The law says clearly that a slave who is so much as present in the building where his master’s killed, is guilty of criminal negligence for which the penalty is death.’

  ‘But Loftus was not present in the house, and there is proof of that: he was at the slave market,’ I said. ‘You imprisoned him simply to question him about his master’s suicide and secret gambling. Reasonable enough, and I would have done the same. But it is clear now that there was neither suicide or gambling, so Loftus is not forfeit property but remains a part of Flauccus’s estate. So – as he had no hand in what occurred and has told us everything he knew – I shall send him to my master, aboard the gig when it returns to Glevum, with a letter explaining that he was arrested by mistake.’

  He saw the implication that the error had been his. ‘Mistake!’ It was an expostulation. ‘The steward was party to everything his master did – by his own confession, freely made!’

  ‘But he did not collude in plans for any crime – because there was no such plan. As I hope to prove to you. I take it you did not stop to view the corpse as you came by?’ I led the way into the atrium as I spoke and the tesserarius was more or less obliged to follow me, muttering that he’d already accorded the tax collector more than due respect and was not attracted to viewing him again.

  So he was not happy when I partially unwrapped the corpse once more, and he stood impassive, clearly unimpressed, while I explained my reasoning – pointing out the shortness of the corpse, the angle of the lower mark around the neck and the remnants of dried blood beneath the fingernails. When I had concluded, he made no response at all. Even an attempt at flattery – ‘I am asking you to observe these things, because I need an independent man of rank to witness them’ – scarcely produced more than a reluctant grunt.

  But when I ushered him into the inner office, and showed him the open cupboard which had been revealed and the shelves packed with more riches than a booty-cart, his manner thawed at once.

  ‘Citizen Libertus! I confess that I have doubted you, till now. But I see you are deserving of all the praise your patron heaps on you.’ The clipped efficiency had gone and he was fawning ‘like an emissary to the Emperor’ as the saying goes. ‘You have found the missing treasure.’

  I shook my head. ‘On the contrary, worthiness. You misunderstand. This is not the money from the tax accounts. This is the private fortune of Acacius Flauccus – which the murderers clearly did not know about. But proof enough that he was robbed and killed, I think. No one hangs himself for debt with all this hidden in the house.’

  The soldier frowned. ‘But can it be used to make up the deficit? Or will the curia in Glevum have to do that, still? Suppose, for instance that Flauccus made a will?’ He shot me a malicious little glance. ‘If his estate is not forfeit, as everybody thought, it would be valid now. In that case your patron may not be so happy after all. I know he was hoping you could retrieve the tax.’

  I smiled. ‘Indeed, there is a will – already lodged in Glevum, I believe, and witnessed by members of the curia itself. But fortunately, it seems that Flauccus has bequeathed his wealth to the colonia,’ I said, aware of a certain malicious pleasure of my own at seeing the triumph fading from his eyes. Behind him, I saw Loftus come into the room as I added airily, ‘I am sure it will be more than adequate to pay the sum involved. Besides, this isn’t all the money Flauccus left behind, I think?’

  The tesserarius looked bewildered and even Loftus frowned.

  ‘There is the little question of the money from the slaves,’ I urged. ‘Loftus brought it here and you confiscated it, together with his careful record of the sales. No doubt the neighbour-witness can corroborate that fact. He should be informed, in any case, about the truth of things.’

  ‘Ah …!’ The tesserarius flushed and looked suddenly more anxious than young Trinculus had done. There was a little pause before he added, silkily. ‘I fear I used that money to defray the funeral costs. I assumed, of course, that it was forfeit to the state. Was that not in order, citizen?’

  ‘Perfectly in order,’ I assured him with a smile. ‘Though there must have been enough for several funerals. But no doubt you kept a record, as the steward did, so it will be easy to calculate how much of it remains.’

  The tesserarius had turned ashen now, and I realised that – as I’d guessed – he had not expected to be called on to account for this and was going to find it difficult to produce the residue.

  ‘Of course,’ I went on relentlessly, ‘one would not expect you to recollect precisely the proceeds of the sale of someone else’s slaves – but perhaps the steward can enlighten us? Then he can take that money with him too, back to Glevum for when the will is read. Loftus, can you recall the sum involved? Though if not, we can find it from your record by and by.’

  The steward stepped forward with such eagerness that it was clear that he remembered the exact amount, but before he had the chance to tell us anything, the soldier murmured, ‘Citizen … a word!’ And Loftus – like the well-trained slave he was – ceded precedence at once.

  ‘Estimable citizen,’ the tesserarius took me by the arm and led me over to the window-space, dropping his voice so Loftus could not hear. ‘The records will be found, of course they will. Though it may take a day or two. I am not altogether sure what I have done with them.’ He spoke as if they might be anywhere in town, instead of almost certainly in his office at the guardhouse by the bridge. ‘And until I find them I cannot
be sure how much I should repay, that is, how much is owed to the estate, after the expenses of the funeral.’

  He was so obsequious and his tone so unctuous now that I began to feel that I preferred his self-important mode. I detached my arm discreetly from his grasp and told him sweetly that I understood, and that instead of sending the money back in the care of Victor and Loftus, as I’d planned, I would return this way myself and take it back with me, after I’d attended the famous wedding feast. After all, I would have to return the ox-cart, wouldn’t I?

  But the ox-cart, it appeared, was no longer good enough. A military gig could be provided, suddenly – if I took his advice and went back the way I came, to take the military road from Aquae Sulis to the port. And, if I preferred not to venture to the inn – ‘which was in the wrong direction anyway, and on reflection might not be entirely suitable’ – he could offer me his private hospitality tonight.

  So the place he had arranged for me was clearly primitive. However, I did not relish the idea of spending the evening in his company, or of sleeping in a draughty tower on a military cot (though possibly the army had requisitioned more comfortable accommodation in the town). So I thanked him gravely but indicated that I preferred the hospitalis.

  ‘I understand it’s on the ancient track. I want to make a few enquiries, to make sure that Flauccus’s coach was not seen to go that way. In the meantime, perhaps you would be good enough to ask your men again? And interview several of the townspeople, as well – though after the funeral will be good enough for that.’ I outlined the questions that I wanted him to ask, both about the carriage and the corn tax too.

  The tesserarius was flattered, as I’d hoped. ‘You can safely leave that questioning to me. I know all the major landowners and businesses round here – I can guess who paid their taxes, and who resented it. Though …’ He glanced at Loftus.

  ‘I think you’ll find the information that you need, sir, in my master’s record scrolls. I believe you took most of them away as evidence,’ the steward said. ‘Together with his toga and his documents.’

  ‘I have the documents. I will investigate. But …’ he broke off. ‘But now, I think, I hear noises at the door. Female voices – the funeral women, perhaps?’

  In fact it was Trinculus who came into the room. ‘I have brought the herb-women, as you commanded, sir. Where would you like them to prepare and wash the body of the slave? Out in the stable, perhaps? It’s obviously not fitting for them to do it in the house, with the master still lying in the atrium.’ He nodded in the direction of the door. ‘Speaking of the tax collector, sir, the undertaker has come to talk to you in person – to find out what you want to do about that funeral. The pyre is ready and it could be done today, especially since you wanted no procession or musicians to attend.’

  I looked at the principalis in surprise. ‘No music and no mourners?’ Even the average slave would hope for that.

  The tesserarius was turning pink again. ‘In the interests of discretion, citizen. I think I told you that I feared unrest, if the people of Uudum discovered what had happened here …’ He tailed off, in dismay, as Trinculus gestured to the door, where the sounds of an excited crowd could be distinctly heard. ‘Though it seems that news has reached the gossips now.’

  ‘You told me to be quick, sir, not discreet.’ The young soldier’s dormouse ears had turned distinctly pink. ‘Somebody asked me what the hurry was, and I answered them. I did not think it was a secret any more.’

  The tesserarius scowled. ‘That was foolish, soldier. No wonder that the news has spread all over town. After all the trouble that we took, to have the funeral women come in through the back.’

  ‘But then you thought that Flauccus had committed suicide and gambled all the tax,’ I said smoothly. ‘And that’s why no musicians were planned. But now you have discovered otherwise. I’m sure that something of the sort could be arranged, even at short notice. I should like to tell my patron that an officer of the state was laid to rest with proper dignity – he’ll expect a full account, since of course I intend to attend the rites myself. But the funeral houses always have lamenters and pipers they can hire – and there will be time enough, presuming they’re not intending to light the pyre till dusk.’ (It is still usual, in Britannia, to hold important funerals after darkness falls, though Marcus tells me that the custom has died out in Rome.) ‘And you have sufficient funds,’ I added wickedly.

  The tesserarius nodded, rather wearily. He turned to Trinculus. ‘Have the undertaker in and we will see what we can do. And tell the soldier at the door to disperse the crowd, at once.’

  I grinned, not displeased with what I had contrived.

  So everything that happened afterwards was my own fault, perhaps.

  SEVENTEEN

  It began with me spending a wholly wretched night. The funeral, for one thing, lasted several hours. Far from it being a private and restrained affair as the tesserarius had hoped, rumour of the death had now spread like a flood tide through the town. So, though the usual invitation was not publicly proclaimed, most of the inhabitants of Uudum seemed to have joined the procession to the pyre – though drawn more by curiosity than respect, I guessed, since the night was cold and damp.

  Then, the place prepared was in a field some distance outside the walls and of course everyone attending had to say a word or two in praise of the deceased – so by the time the final eulogies were said, the ashes cooled by pouring on of wine, the ritual piece of bone was buried in the ground and the pig was sacrificed – it was very late indeed. And there was no escape – as Marcus’s representative I was in the place of honour at the front, standing by the tesserarius throughout.

  Even when it was over I could not get away at once. The undertaker came across to find me, purposely ushering Loftus back into my care and asking if I was satisfied with the pipes and mourners he’d managed to provide. In fact, I was heartily wishing by this time that I’d never shamed the tesserarius into arranging them, because although they’d howled and tootled most impressively, they had done so often and at enormous length.

  However, I forced a smile and murmured that things had all gone splendidly, but I was now anxious to go and find my bed, whereupon – instead of bowing himself politely off – the fellow seized my arm. ‘Citizen, if you wish I could arrange the cleansing of the house when the nine days are up – make sure that all the proper rituals are observed.’ He glanced at the tesserarius, who – with one eye on me – agreed to the arrangement instantly, but left me to fix the price.

  This was followed by still more delay as the tesserarius made one last impassioned plea for me to accept his offer of hospitality. ‘Forgive me, citizen. I have been preoccupied. One of my new recruits deserted recently, and of course the garrison will hold me to account for that. And the tax collector died when he was under my protection, officially. I am already in disfavour with my superiors. Allow me at least to offer you a bed.’

  Perhaps that should have warned me what might lie in store, but I had left Victor to await me in the town (where he was overseeing an official inventory of the treasure we’d discovered in the house, and incidentally guarding my personal luggage too) so I declined the offer, shook off the officer and walked back with the remnants of the crowd.

  I had insisted that Loftus should remain with me – someone had lent him a clean tunic and a cloak against the rain – so together we plodded to the gate where Victor, together with Trinculus and the horse, was waiting with torches to escort me to the inn. ‘The treasure’s all listed and packed into the gig, and your things as well. It’s under guard tonight, I’m to collect it in the morning, though I wouldn’t leave the horse – she’s highly-strung and now she’s used to me, I fear she’ll be restive if I’m not somewhere near. Now, if you’re ready, citizen? I’ve already made enquiries as to where to find the inn. It’s quite a step, I hear. You might be wise to take your toga off and leave it in the guard post overnight. The duty soldiers will take care of it for you – I
have your warrant here, and that will vouch for you.’

  It was a good suggestion and I was glad to follow it. I’d redraped my toga before the funeral, but it was a sorry sight – sodden round the hems and stained from travelling – and would be nothing but an encumbrance if we were walking ‘quite a step’.

  We had to walk, of course. If the road was too difficult for lightweight gigs by day, it was almost impossible to ride a horse by night – and in the rain – without risk of damaging a valuable animal. So I was glad when we saw glimmering lights ahead and our torch-brands showed a bunch of tattered holly nailed above the door, a sign that accommodation was available within. Victor assured me that this was the place, though Loftus seemed uneasy from the start.

  ‘If this is the house I think it is, it’s certainly an inn, but I am surprised that the tesserarius selected it for you. It’s … the kind of establishment that lets its rooms out by the hour.’

  ‘You’ve visited before?’

  It was a jest but it did not raise a smile. Loftus was serious. ‘I came out last year to interview the landlord of the place, a scoundrel who had been evading the register for tax. But they must have seen me coming, or had word of me. When I arrived there was no one but an ancient crone in evidence, crouching over the remnants of a fire, claiming that she’d found the place abandoned a day or two before and moved into it for shelter.’

  ‘Which you did not believe?’ I said.

  ‘A ploy to account for the ashes being warm, if I am any judge, while the owner and his staff took cover in the woods beyond the stream. In his absence there was nothing I could do, as no doubt he was aware, but it didn’t strike me as a wholesome place to stay. Though if the army have arranged it, it will no doubt be all right,’ he said, adding with pretended cheerfulness, ‘anything would be an improvement on where I spent last night.’