by Jane Finnis
“Could you? That would be wonderful.”
He shook his head. “There isn’t time. I’ve promised Vitellia we’ll have ten days here, so she can get to know you and all our friends, and we’ll go over to see Albia and Candidus at the farm, too. Then I’ll escort her home to Londinium. By that time the midsummer party will have been and gone.”
I silently cursed Vitellia, even though I could see his point. A promise is a promise. “Can’t be helped,” I said, trying to sound as if I meant it. “A pity, though. It would have been good. And Jovina would have been pleased to see you.”
“It would have fitted in very well. I’ve been wanting a pretext to visit the area north of Eburacum for a while now, without appearing to be investigating anything in particular.” He sighed and stood up. “As you say, it can’t be helped.”
“What would you have been investigating? If I’m going to be there, I can keep my ears and eyes open for you.”
“The usual vague rumours, nothing definite. I seem to spend my life following up half-baked reports of possible trouble among the natives.”
“It gives you a good excuse for loitering in taverns.”
“Do I need an excuse for that?” He grinned down at me. “The Brigantians around Isurium appear quiet enough, but one of our agents has picked up local talk about a young prince from the old tribal aristocracy who fancies himself as a leader against what he calls the Roman occupation.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. You never know, I might learn something useful.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He put his hand briefly on my shoulder. “And now I must go, and you must write to Jovina. Give her my greetings, won’t you?”
“Aurelia! Aurelia, where are you?” It was Margarita’s voice, and as she repeated my name, we could tell she was coming closer, and she sounded upset.
“In the garden, Margarita,” I called. “What’s the matter?”
She came running round the corner towards us, pale and out of breath, her hair flopping over her face. I was alarmed by her appearance. Margarita, usually so calm and collected, was in a serious panic.
“Aurelia, thank the gods, and Lucius too, that’s even better,” she panted. “Can you come with me quickly, please? Something awful has happened to one of the guests.”
“Who?” Lucius and I asked together.
“Terentius. He’s dead. One of the maids found him.” She began to shiver uncontrollably. “It’s horrible. He’s been murdered.”
Chapter III
“What a mess,” Lucius growled.
I didn’t know whether he meant the bedroom itself, or the dead body on the floor, or the unpleasant situation we were in, probably all three. We stood together in the doorway for a few heartbeats, reluctant to intrude into the ugly scene.
Terentius lay naked on his left side with his left arm bent under him. A gaping wound in his belly had bled freely. His dark-brown hair was tousled and his eyes were wide open. From the unnatural position of his limbs and head, he must have fallen, or been pushed, off his bed after he’d been stabbed.
Clothes and blankets and his few possessions were strewn about the room. I spotted a comb, a small leather pouch, and half-a-dozen coins, some of them silver. So the murderer hadn’t come looking for money.
But without a doubt he’d been searching for something. The mattress and the pillows had been slashed wide open, and their wool stuffing emptied out in handfuls. It lay scattered everywhere, like a fall of snow, some of it even on top of the body.
Lucius was the first to move. As an investigator, he’s used to dealing with sudden death, as far as anyone can be used to it. He bent and gently touched the dead man’s cheek. “He’s stone cold. And look, most of this blood’s dry, especially here on the floor, and where it’s stained the wool. He’s been dead a good while.”
“It must have happened in the night,” I said, “when everyone was asleep You’d think somebody nearby would have heard a disturbance. One of the other guests…” I turned to Margarita. “I suppose nobody mentioned anything?”
She shook her head. “There were only two other men staying, and neither of their rooms were next door to this one. When they came in to breakfast I asked them if they’d slept well, as I usually do, and they said yes. I can’t say I’m surprised about that. They all drank a fair bit yesterday evening.”
“To celebrate Lucius’ news, I suppose.”
“They went on after you’d gone to bed. Terentius was buying, he kept telling everyone he was celebrating, too, because he’d just got promoted.”
“Did they drink enough to quarrel or to fight?” Lucius asked.
“No, nothing like that. It was all very friendly. I wouldn’t say they were even really drunk, but they had enough wine inside them to give them a good night’s sleep…including this poor man. I suppose that’s why someone was able to sneak in here and kill him.”
“Have the other guests left yet?” Lucius asked.
“Yes, they went straight after breakfast.”
“What about his slave?” I felt a twinge of guilt because I’d forgotten my promise to check up on the boy. “Secundus said he slept with the horse-boys over the stables.”
“Yes, and spent the evening with them, too. That was after he’d had supper in the kitchen. He seemed a nice lad. He talked about his family, and how he wants to buy his freedom. Just an ordinary boy, nothing unusual about him that I can remember.”
“But now Secundus says he’s disappeared. He left here very early before anyone was up, and so did one of Terentius’ horses.”
Margarita’s pale face turned ashen. “You’re saying he could have killed his master in the night? But he was hardly more than a child. And he was in my kitchen? How dreadful!” She looked round for somewhere to sit, but the bed had no mattress and the stool was covered with the ruined pillows. She leaned against the wall, as white as marble, and I realised she was struggling to keep from fainting.
I pushed the pillows off the stool, which was luckily clean of blood, and helped her to sit down. “Try not to worry, Margarita. None of this is your fault.”
“I know. But I feel there must be something we could have done to prevent it.”
“I don’t see what. I’m sure nobody from the Oak Tree was involved in it. Aren’t you, Lucius?”
“Yes, I am. The man only arrived yesterday. I suppose it might possibly have been one of the other overnight guests.”
She said thoughtfully “From the way they were talking, they hadn’t met before, so if there was a quarrel, it was a very sudden one. I saw no sign of it. And there wasn’t a trace of blood on either of them this morning, I’d swear to that.”
“What about their rooms?” Lucius interrupted.
“Nothing. The maids who cleaned them would have told me.”
“That pretty well settles it,” I said. “His boy killed him, and then ran away, or rode away, rather. And for what comfort it’s worth, it could have happened at any time and in any place.”
Lucius, predictably, was more cautious. “We must do a thorough check. I’ll have to report his death to the army, and they’ll expect a proper investigation. Margarita, could you organise a search of the mansio—all rooms, including our private wing, and the baths. And would you ask Secundus and Ursulus to do the same with the outbuildings? If the lad isn’t anywhere to be found, we’ll be forced to conclude he’s run away.”
“I’ll see to it straight away.” Her relieved expression showed how much she wanted to get away from that ghastly room. “If we do find him, you want him caught, presumably? But if he’s armed…”
“Good point. Tell everyone to search in pairs, at least one of each pair to be a man.”
“Right.”
“And we could ask Hawk whether he’s seen anything unusual in the woods,” I suggested. Hawk is the best of the native huntsmen in the Oak Bridges area. What’s more, he’s a friend, and would help if he could. “I’ll send for him if we find the boy’s run
off. Now, just one more thing, Margarita. Which of the maids found Terentius here like this?”
“It was Baca.”
“Is she all right?”
“More or less, though she was quite shaken. A couple of the other girls are with her. I told them not to leave her on her own for a while, and Cook is warming up some wine for them. Then I’ll make sure they keep busy.”
“Good,” Lucius said. “Tell her we’ll need to talk to her later. And,” he added, “have some of that warm wine yourself, Margarita. You look as if you need it.”
“You’re right, I do.” She hurried away.
Lucius said softly, “I can manage here, Sis, if you want to go and help Margarita.”
I was tempted. Sitting in the kitchen with a comforting wine-mug, or even searching for the missing slave, would be preferable to being here. But I knew Lucius needed me to stay. The murder itself was grim enough, but the violent death of a guest under our own mansio roof turned the whole situation into a nightmare. Lucius is legal owner of the Oak Tree, though I’m the one who runs it from day to day. We were both well aware that a mansio whose customers weren’t safe in their beds would soon have no customers at all.
So I said, “I’ll stay. It’ll be easier with two of us.”
“Thanks. It will. Right then, the sooner we get on with this, the sooner we can get out of here. Could you start searching the room? Collect all his belongings together and see if there’s a weapon or anything else useful buried under all this wool. I’ll help you soon, but first I must take a proper look at the poor man. As Quintus always says, ‘Start with the body.’”
“Gods, I wish he were here now.” Quintus was an experienced investigator, and also my lover, when our paths crossed. If he were here, I thought, he’d know what to make of all this. But simply thinking of him cheered me a little.
First I put Terentius’ few clothes and possessions onto the bedstead. Then I walked slowly round, using my feet to push the tufts of wool into one corner of the room. Finally I checked through the tufts by hand. I found a tiny bronze pin, and a couple of dry twigs that had been among the strands of wool since they’d come off the sheep. Nothing else.
“No weapon,” I reported. “The killer still has it, presumably.”
Lucius straightened up and turned away from the body. “The wound looks straight and deep, a professional blow, probably with a dagger. And there doesn’t seem to have been a fight. There’s only this one stab-wound, no other marks or bruises on him.” He swept his gaze round the room. “Someone’s done a pretty thorough search here, presumably whoever killed him. The servant seems the most likely, especially if he’s really disappeared.”
“I agree, he does. I didn’t see much of them really, I only spoke to Terentius briefly when they arrived. I asked where he’d come from, and he said he’d just finished a three months’ attachment down south, mostly in Londinium, and was on his way to Isurium.”
“Isurium? Did he say he was based there?”
“He implied it. He said he was with a cohort of Batavian auxiliaries, but he wasn’t a Batavian himself, judging by his accent.”
Lucius nodded. “Those auxiliary units usually have Romans as officers. Anything else you can think of?”
“No, not really…wait, of course there is. His package. I was almost forgetting.”
“What package?”
“He asked me to lock away a small package in our own strong-box overnight. He said it was too valuable to leave in his room.”
“Ah. Now we’re getting somewhere. What’s it like?”
“Small, about the size of my hand, but oblong. It’s wrapped in a piece of soft cloth so I couldn’t see what it was. It felt hard, like a box, and something rattled when I moved it. Coins, I’d say, but not many, because it’s not very heavy.”
Margarita appeared at the door, bearing a tray with a couple of wine-mugs and a jug that gave out a delicious spicy aroma. “I thought you could do with some, too,” she smiled, and I was relieved to see she was her usual calm self again.
“Thanks, Margarita, we certainly could.” We drank gratefully.
Lucius asked how the search was going.
“We’ve looked everywhere in the house and stables. There’s no sign of the lad. The farm and outbuildings will take longer, but nobody so far has seen hide nor hair of him since late yesterday evening.”
“Excellent, thank you.” My brother finished his mug of wine and poured himself another. “The boy had no business to be anywhere on the farm, so if he’s found there, it means he’s gone into hiding. But my guess is he’s taken the horse and fled. He could be heading anywhere, to the coast, to Eburacum, or into the country on one of the native roads. He’ll be miles away by now. There’s no point trying to follow him.”
“Maybe Hawk…?” I suggested.
He sighed. “We can ask him, but it’s a long shot. Still, I suppose the authorities will expect me to have gone through the motions. Could you find him , Relia, and ask him to do what he can? I’ll give him a day to see what he can find, and tomorrow I’ll report Terentius’ death to army headquarters at Eburacum. I’ll send his body there, with a note explaining the circumstances. I don’t think I need to go there myself. I doubt they’ll want me to do anything more.”
“We’ll put his body in one of the outbuildings for now,” I said. “We need to clean this room up. I suppose that means yet another donation to the temple priests in Oak Bridges to persuade them to come and purify the room.”
Margarita nodded. “I’ve already sent one of the boys off with a message asking if a couple of them can come over straight away and perform the cleansing. They’re usually very obliging.”
“So they should be, given the fat purse of silver they always receive for their services.” But there was no alternative. We had to get all the ritual purifying done today, before any more guests arrived and the room was needed.
“Vitellia has been asking for you, Lucius,” Margarita said. “What shall I tell her? She’s wondering when you’re going to set off for your drive.”
“Merda!” He put his mug hastily back on the tray. “I’d forgotten Vitellia. Well, not forgotten of course, but I mean…Does she know what’s happened here? I don’t want her to be scared.”
“She knows, yes. She was with me in the barroom when Baca came and told me about finding Terentius. She was quite shocked, and wanted you to come to her. When I told her you and Aurelia were investigating how Terentius died, she asked why you had to be involved. Of course, she understood why when I explained that you had no choice but to look into everything. But I get the impression she’s a bit disappointed that you can’t take her out driving.”
“But I can, and I will. I’ve promised to spend the day with her, and I can still do that. I think we’ve more or less finished here, haven’t we, Aurelia?”
“Well, there’s still…”
“Oh, I’m sure you can deal with anything else that needs doing. I must go to her and comfort her. She’s quite shy, poor girl, and having someone killed here will worry her dreadfully. If we go out for our drive, it’ll take her mind off the unpleasantness of it all.”
“But what about…”
“So can I leave the rest to you, Sis? See to the cleansing, get in touch with Hawk. You can handle all that, can’t you?”
“If I must. But you don’t think that having someone killed here might worry me dreadfully too?”
His look of surprise gave me my answer. “I agree it’s not very pleasant, but you’re used to dealing with trouble. You can cope, I know you can.”
I let it go. I suppose it was a compliment in its way. “You’ll have to write the report for the army at Eburacum, but I can do everything else.”
“The report can wait till tonight. After we—you—have spoken with Hawk.”
“All right.”
“Thanks, Sis. I’ll just get us some food and wine from the kitchen, then we’ll be off. I’ll see you later.” He strode out.
&n
bsp; Margarita asked, “Are you all right, Aurelia? This is a shock for us all. And you’ve been ill.”
“I wish everyone would stop reminding me that I’ve been ill. As if I’m likely to forget! I’m fine, absolutely fine. And if Lucius is too besotted with that precious girl to do his job, you and I will manage perfectly well without him.”
“Of course we will.”
“Oh, sorry, Margarita. It’s just…”
“I know. Don’t worry. Lucius is in love, that’s all. Come back to the kitchen with me and relax for a while. The customers will start arriving soon.”
“There’s one more thing I have to do first. Terentius left a package with me for safekeeping. I ought to open it and see what’s in it. It’s in the safe.”
“You think that’s why somebody tore the room apart like this?”
“I suppose it must be.” I picked up my wine-mug. “I’ll take this with me, in case there are any more nasty shocks to come.”
“You’ve made me curious. May I come too?”
“Yes, if you’d like to.” It was good of her to offer. I knew I’d be glad of her company.
We went to my study, and I pulled the goatskin rug away from the floor-board that hid our safe. It was easy enough to raise the board and lift out the sturdy iron chest, but I felt absurdly nervous as I unlocked it, and was relieved to find Terentius’ package still safely inside.
I took it out and handed it to Margarita while I relocked the chest and stowed it away. She gently turned the bundle over in her hands, and it rattled slightly.
I carefully unwrapped the cloth. Inside was, as I’d expected, a square box made of some light-coloured wood. It had a military seal over the lock, and some sort of design carved on its lid. When I looked closely I realised it was three initials, or rather one initial repeated three times. VVV.
“VVV must be the man who owns it,” I said. “It’s nicely made. Now, to open it. The question is how?”
“You didn’t find the key in the bedroom?”
“No. Let’s see now…” I broke the seal. “We’ll have to get in by brute force, unless…I know. I’ll take it across to the workshop, let Taurus have a go at it. He’s not bad at picking locks.”
