Murder in the Forum

by Rosemary Rowe

  ‘There is more?’ I was surprised. What I already knew seemed alarming enough.

  Marcus picked up a goblet from the serving tray which had been provided, and held it out absently to be filled. ‘Do you know what happened to Prefect Perennis?’

  ‘Not entirely. Surrendered to the crowd for justice, as I heard it,’ I said carefully, darting Marcus a warning look. There were slaves present – one was even now filling his goblet – and Zetso was waiting in the servants’ hall. No doubt he was, among other things, a spy, and Felix would have equipped him with adequate bribes. In the circumstances one could hardly be too careful. These were not even Marcus’s own slaves.

  Marcus ignored my signals. ‘Thrown to the crowd,’ he said. ‘You know why?’

  I did, of course, but I shook my head. ‘It was some time ago.’ I knew how to be cautious, if Marcus did not. I do not enjoy his privileges.

  ‘Accused of misappropriating funds from the public purse,’ Marcus said, swallowing his wine at a gulp and gesturing for more.

  ‘Perhaps that was true,’ I ventured. ‘The Emperor in his wisdom . . .’ Commodus is a fool and a lecher, but I wasn’t about to question his judgement with the servants listening.

  Marcus snorted. ‘Of course it was true. It had been true for years. Commodus knew it, but he didn’t care. He virtually allowed Prefect Perennis to run the Empire – it gave him more time for debauching women, dressing up as a gladiator, flirting with his coachman and generally making a public spectacle of himself.’

  ‘Excellence!’ I pleaded. This kind of talk could easily get one executed for merely listening to it. ‘The servants.’

  He looked surprised. Marcus, like many Romans, is so accustomed to slaves that he thinks of them as animated tools, no more capable of seeing and hearing than chairs or tables. I, on the other hand, was once a slave myself. I could imagine, only too easily, how readily a little gold could loosen household tongues. Every slave dreams of buying his own freedom.

  Marcus followed my glance. ‘Ah! The servants. I should dismiss them, do you think?’

  I shook my head. ‘With respect, Excellence, I think you should instruct them to wait here . . . outside the door.’

  He thought about that for a moment, then nodded and gave the order. Then, with the servants safely out of earshot, he turned to me again. ‘Very shrewd, old friend. I should have sent them straight into the arms of Felix’s driver. I was saying . . .’

  ‘You were telling me about Prefect Perennis,’ I said, feeling so weak with relief that I would have welcomed a glass of wine myself. ‘There was a march on Rome by some disaffected lance-bearers, threatening to storm the city because they hadn’t been paid. Commodus was terrified of them, blamed it all on the Prefect, and had him thrown to the mob. That is, as I heard it.’

  ‘So you did know.’ Marcus sounded aggrieved. ‘Do you also know where those rebellious lance-bearers came from?’

  I genuinely didn’t, and I told him so.

  ‘Well, that is the most significant thing,’ Marcus said, somewhat cheered to have part of the story left to tell. ‘They came from these very islands – part of the Britannic legions. They were in revolt. And when Perennis fell, another man was recalled from disgrace and sent here to restore control. Someone whom Perennis had hated, who was so successful that the troops wanted to make him Emperor. His name was Pertinax. You remember Pertinax?’

  I was about to say, ‘Naturally I remember him, Excellence, since he is your patron and my Governor,’ when the implications of this struck me.

  ‘But surely,’ I burst out, ‘the Governor’s loyalty is not in question? He was almost killed last year putting down that rebellion against Commodus.’

  Marcus shook his head. ‘Our revered Emperor distrusts everyone. Perhaps he is right. He had hardly succeeded to the purple before his own sister tried to assassinate him. And the legions did want to acclaim Pertinax as Emperor. Commodus will not forget that.’

  ‘You think that is why Felix has come? To seek out similar plots?’

  Marcus looked at me gloomily. ‘You understand servants, my old friend, but you do not understand imperial politics. The Emperor would not send a conspicuous figure like Felix to discover a plot. He will already have a dozen spies in place.’

  Remembering Marcus’s previous indiscretions before the servants, I could only blanch at this revelation. ‘Then why is he here?’

  Marcus said gloomily, ‘I imagine he feels that he has scores to settle. It took the rebellion to make Commodus sacrifice his former friend to the mob, but Pertinax had always advised the Emperor against him. And vice versa. It was Perennis who had Pertinax disgraced and exiled in the first place. So when the Prefect fell, Pertinax was recalled to Rome.’

  Where, I thought, he would have helped to oversee the aftermath. Felix had seen his kinsmen executed, their estates seized, and their power removed. It had almost certainly cost him a huge sum to escape a similar fate himself. And now here he was in Glevum looking for Pertinax’s closest friend and representative. I could see what Marcus meant. Matters were not looking good.

  ‘Well,’ Marcus said wearily, ‘I suppose we shall find out very soon.’

  ‘Then you will come with me, Excellence?’ If I sounded disrespectfully relieved I couldn’t help it. My chances of seeing tomorrow, at least outside a filthy jail, had just brightened considerably.

  ‘I see no help for it. Though this Zetso of yours will have to wait a little longer. I have promised to attend the curial offices this afternoon to arbitrate in a legal dispute. I shall send and tell him so.’

  I nodded, doubtfully. Felix would not like this, but Marcus was right. Even Felix must take second place to imperial business. I said, ‘With respect, Excellence, I suggest you do not use the slave-boys outside to take your message. They may have been listening at the door. Allow me to summon one of the servants I saw in the courtyard.’ In the light of what Marcus had said about spies it seemed an elementary precaution.

  He smiled. ‘An excellent idea. You have a shrewd mind, Libertus. I suppose you would not care to accompany me to the courthouse? I should be interested in your opinion on the case.’

  He meant that he was interested in my support, I recognised. My opinion would be of little value. I know nothing of the intricacies of Roman law. Marcus, on the other hand, was necessarily an expert. As the governor’s direct representative, he was constantly called upon to hear difficult cases. In the absence of Pertinax, he was the most senior judge in this part of the country, although of course any citizen might appeal over his head directly to the Emperor. But, as I say, I know little of the law.

  ‘Zetso will not like it if we leave the house together.’

  Marcus snorted. ‘Zetso will do as I tell him. He is only a carriage-driver. Indeed, he can drive us to the curia. Now I have thought of it, I want to have you with me – it is an interesting case. An elderly citizen surprised his daughter in adultery, under her husband’s roof. He killed her lover – as the law permits – but allowed his daughter to escape. Strictly, he should have killed them both, so the lover’s family have seized him and brought a case against him for murder.’ He smiled broadly. ‘What does your shrewd brain tell you, Libertus? How would you find?’

  This was not the time for discussing legal niceties. Zetso was still waiting. Besides, Marcus’s smirk suggested that he had already decided on his verdict. ‘I don’t know, Excellence. I suppose the man is technically guilty?’

  He beamed triumphantly. ‘Undoubtedly. And yet, the grounds for accusation seem unjust, do you not think?’

  He paused dramatically so I mastered my impatience and said, as he clearly hoped I would, ‘So, you have found a compromise?’

  ‘I shall listen to the evidence, find for the family and sentence the old man to exile. Three days to leave the Empire, and then all of his possessions will be forfeited.’ I must have looked surprised, because he laughed. ‘Only, of course, I found a way of letting him know this yesterday. He
has sold his house for gold, and his wife and remaining daughter are already halfway to Isca with the money and most of his goods. His mother was a Silurian, from beyond the western borders. It will not be difficult for him there.’

  He was so pleased with himself that I was bold enough to venture, ‘Then the case should not take long. Perhaps, Excellence, you should tell the carriage-driver of your plans? He could drive us directly to Glevum when you have finished.’

  He flushed. ‘Indeed. I will have the slaves pack my things and bring them after me. That way Zetso can wait for us at the court.’ He strode to the door, summoned a slave from the courtyard (to the astonishment of the two outside the door) and gave his orders. Then he turned back to me. ‘In the meantime, I will go and let Delicta know what is happening.’ He frowned. ‘I wish I knew what in Hades Felix was up to.’

  I tried to find something comforting to say. ‘Perhaps it is not as worrying as we suppose. Perhaps he does wish to see you on business.’ I brightened. ‘Maybe he brings a letter from your family in Rome. Your mother has been sending to you recently by every courier she can find.’

  It was a feeble suggestion, but it was not impossible. Marcus’s father had died long ago – making him a man in the eyes of the law – but his mother had recently remarried and her new husband had offered Marcus legal adoption to ensure the inheritance. Wealthy Romans are always doing that, largely because a contested will is likely to cause a costly legal wrangle, with most of the estate ending up in the imperial coffers. Perhaps that is why marriage and the foundation of a family is regarded as almost a civic duty.

  Certainly Marcus’s mother and his new stepfather seemed to think so. Every messenger from Rome seemed to bring a new missive from them, urging Marcus to take the plunge, and usually offering a list of suitable, well-connected young Roman virgins for him to select from.

  Marcus, however, had never felt the need. As one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the province he could naturally take his pick of any good-looking young woman in Glevum, and not infrequently did. Of course, marriage would not necessarily preclude such activity, but it was likely to curtail it severely, especially if the bride had powerful relatives. So Marcus had never shown the slightest inclination to marry. Until recently, that is. I had begun to wonder whether his beautiful Julia Delicta had won him over completely. Clearly she had matrimonial ambitions. Respectable widows do not entertain gentlemen in their homes in the middle of the afternoon unless they have definite expectations of a wedding.

  If I hoped to comfort him with thoughts of matrimony, however, I had failed. Marcus was looking more agitated than ever.

  ‘Great Olympus, Libertus, I hope not. Great Jupiter, lover of lovers, preserve me of all things from that!’

  Chapter Three

  I must have been looking astonished, because even Marcus – who is not much given to noticing the reactions of his audience – looked at my face and said hastily, ‘You would feel the same way in my place, Libertus. It is my mother’s interference I am afraid of. I got a letter from her only yesterday – sent via a trader bringing olive oil to the market – and she is full of schemes which she thinks are “for my benefit”. Of course, I wrote at once to dissuade her. I only pray she hasn’t carried out her ideas in the meantime. That letter would have taken almost a month to get here.’

  In spite of everything, I could scarcely repress a smile. It was hard to imagine anyone as wealthy and important as Marcus even possessing a mother, let alone a mother who told him what to do. But one look at his face told me that this was no smiling matter. ‘And what was her idea, Excellence?’

  ‘She has been threatening for some time to find me a bride, if I do not choose one for myself,’ Marcus explained. ‘Now she is talking of speaking to the Emperor about it – asking who might make a suitable wife for me. She doesn’t seem to see how serious that is. If he made a recommendation I should be more or less obliged to marry the girl, whatever I thought of her. I dare not offend Commodus.’

  I could see the force of that. ‘And you suspect a candidate, Excellence?’ It was not a difficult deduction. His face was the picture of dejection.

  ‘It occurs to me,’ he said despondently, ‘that Felix has a daughter. I saw her once, in Rome, before I left. She was only a child then, but she was already unattractive – just like her mother, a face like a cavalry horse and a whine like a donkey. Oh, great Minerva giver of wisdom! You know, Libertus, that could be why he’s here. Links with my family would give Felix some solid allies in Rome – at present he must be reliant on the Emperor alone, and that is never wise. Dear Jupiter! Forced into marriage with his hideous daughter – wouldn’t Felix love to bring me a message like that!’

  I hastened to backtrack. ‘You don’t know that, Excellence. It was only a suggestion on my part. It is more likely that he is here on a political errand.’ Strange – only a moment or two before, that had seemed a much more threatening alternative.

  Marcus shook his head. ‘No, it would make sense. The Emperor would speak for Felix, and if she is ugly her father would be desperate to dispose of her. My mother would think it a wonderful match – all that property and wealth . . . Dear Jupiter! The girl must be twenty-one by now, so she must be a perfect fright, not to have found a husband at that age. And yet if the Emperor has suggested it, I can hardly refuse—’ He broke off, interrupted by the return of the messenger he had sent to Zetso. ‘Well?’

  The boy was breathless with hurry. ‘Most excellent master, I delivered your message to the driver, and he awaits you at the carriage. He merely urges that you fulfil your business at the curia as soon as possible. Lucius Tigidius Perennis Felix proposes a feast tonight and hopes that you will attend.’ The slave was choosing his words with care, and I guessed that the message had been delivered in much more forceful terms.

  Marcus cocked an eyebrow at me.

  I nodded, although in fact this was not quite as I understood it. Surely Felix was guest of honour rather than host at this banquet? But this was no time for fine distinctions. ‘I am at your service, Excellence.’

  Marcus sighed and waved the slave away. ‘Very well, go and prepare my possessions for departure.’ The slave hurried off, and Marcus poured himself another glass of wine – unheard of indignity – before he turned to me. ‘Why ever didn’t I marry Delicta weeks ago? If I arrived back in Glevum a married man, it would have been too late. Felix would not even have a grievance.’

  There was no answer to that. The widow was beautiful, intelligent, wealthy and eager to have him. In his position I would have wed her long since. I said nothing.

  Suddenly he brightened. ‘Great Mercury, Libertus, I wonder if I could marry her now?’

  I stared at him. ‘Now? This afternoon?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You can hardly claim usus marriage,’ I said. ‘You have been sleeping with her under her roof rather than your own. And certainly not for an uninterrupted year.’ That was rather a presumptuous remark and I regretted it instantly, but Marcus was too preoccupied to care.

  ‘I cannot propose a manus marriage either – I cannot notionally “buy” her from myself. But I could do it another way – a formal statement in front of a magistrate and a family augurer, witnessed by seven citizens. After all, I am going to the curia. Delicta’s auspex will be there and I happen to know a friendly magistrate. It is a little irregular, but he owes me a favour or two. I’m sure he would oblige us.’ He grinned. ‘What do you say, old friend?’

  ‘The lady will consent?’

  ‘Of course she will. She has been telling her brothers for weeks that we intend to marry. And she will see the sense in this. Of course, she needs her guardian’s formal permission – but since I am her guardian,’ he grinned, ‘I will send for her at once.’ He made towards the door.

  I intervened. ‘Allow me, Excellence. I know the house and I will take her the message myself. That way no servant knows of it. If Zetso asks questions while you are gone, all he will learn
is that you were going to the curia, which he knows anyway. I suggest that we go openly. I will have the lady send all her maidservants on errands to the front of the house, then put on a hooded cloak and follow us discreetly on foot out of the back gate. Zetso will pay little attention to her movements. Let us hope your magistrate is amenable and the auspex finds the auguries favourable.’

  ‘I found for him last month in a tax case,’ Marcus said wryly. ‘That should help to tip the entrails in my favour. And only yesterday I put the magistrate in the way of buying the house in this law case we are about to attend. The accused man was pleased to part with it at a very low price. I imagine the magistrate will be amenable.’

  ‘Then all you need is seven citizens to witness your declaration.’

  He glanced at my Roman toga, more than usually frowsty after our headlong journey to Corinium. ‘Six,’ he said.

  So I was to be party to this escapade. Well, I had some sympathy with it, and in any case I could hardly refuse. I contented myself with saying wryly, ‘You realise, Excellence, that we have no proof that Felix brings any letter of the kind? You may find that you have married your “Delicta” for nothing.’ If the lady was to be married to my patron, I thought, I might risk the familiar name.

  I expected a rebuke for my insolence, but Marcus merely grinned. ‘All things considered, Libertus, I think that is a risk I am prepared to take. And if my family do not care for my marrying a provincial, they have only themselves to blame. Now, I will go and prepare myself for the curia. You can speak to Delicta, if you will.’

  I had no preparations to make, so I took the two slave-boys with me and went out into the back courtyard where the private quarters lay, each bedroom opening separately off the covered walkway which bordered the inner gardens on three sides. I knew the layout of the house from my previous visit and I was able to lead the way to the widow’s apartments, a pair of interconnecting chambers: a small outer dressing room and sleeping quarters within.