Enemies of the Empire

by Rosemary Rowe

  ‘He was amazing,’ the boy added, with tearful eagerness, as if sharing a special confidence. ‘He kept the ball up all the time and never dropped it once. I got a thrashing when I got inside for watching him so long. I’m sorry if I should have noticed more.’

  ‘You did very well,’ I said, and he looked so grateful that it touched my heart. Praise was as rare as toys in his young life. ‘Here.’ I put a hand into my purse and pressed a sestertius into his hand. He looked incredulous. It would be taken from him, like as not, but I felt that some reward was due. ‘Tell your master you have been delayed by helping a Roman citizen to find a missing slave, and that I will be here in the morning to buy some honey cakes. Tell him to put half a dozen on one side for me. Here’s half a denarius to pay for them.’ With any luck, I reasoned, a lucrative order from a customer would be enough to soothe his master’s wrath.

  He flashed me an uncertain smile, and hurried round the corner with the coins and what little ash he’d succeeded in collecting up again. The others made no move to stop him going.

  ‘Very pretty,’ Cupidus jeered. ‘And you expect us to believe that the boy is not in your employ? Or in the pay of your bath-side friends? Well, let me tell you, this is my father’s area. He won’t take kindly to your bribing servants here to tell their confounded little lies for you.’ He shouldered up to me, more belligerent than ever, and made to seize me by the neck again.

  Aurissimus restrained him. ‘Cupidus, don’t be more stupid than you have to be. All right, you can’t recognise a cheating net man when you see one, but can’t you take in what’s right before your eyes?’ He turned to me. ‘You said the youth who came was Lyra’s messenger. Who’s Lyra?’

  I was about to protest that surely he must know who Lyra was, and then of course I realised that he did and he was testing me. I remembered the reaction to her name from the keeper of the thermopolium, and I said hastily, ‘I was in the town, looking for a silver cloak clasp for my wife. Lyra approached me and offered me her girls. She gave me an address – the street of the oil-lamp sellers – although I didn’t go there at the time.’ If the spy system in this part of town was half as good as that in the bath-house area, I knew that my movements could easily be checked. I didn’t mention Plautus. I was certain that part of the story would never be believed.

  Big-ears was looking at me with amused contempt. ‘But you went there later, did you? After dark.’

  I was reluctant to say anything which might be proved false. I compromised. ‘I never found it,’ I said truthfully.

  He laughed. ‘So you got lost and wandered round the bath-house area? Lyra’s wolf-house isn’t over there – it’s on this side of Venta, where all the soldiers go. No wonder you were followed. A thief, most likely, hoping for your purse. It’s a marvel someone didn’t cut your throat. They don’t like strangers in that part of town.’ He turned to his companions. ‘I don’t believe the man’s a spy at all. He’s just an idiot who can’t control what hangs between his legs. That’s why he wasn’t present at the games. Made some excuse and sneaked off in the dark, looking for the wolf-house. It all makes sense. That’s why the poor fool left his slave behind. I’ll bet he’s got a wife at home, as well, and didn’t want her finding out where he had been.’ He gave another hoot of mocking mirth. ‘And then he didn’t find it after all. It’s true. He can’t have done. He gave money to that slave. Lyra wouldn’t leave a customer with silver in his purse. If he didn’t spend it willingly, the girls would get it from his clothes while he was occupied with something else.’

  ‘But surely she can’t steal from them?’ I was startled into speech. ‘The penalties . . .’

  He swept my words aside. ‘You may come from a big city, stranger, but you’re strangely innocent. Of course she’d have your purse. It often happens. Very few complain – not when they’ve been busy with one of Lyra’s specialists. If it came to court, they’d be a laughing-stock.’

  I resisted the temptation to retort that he clearly knew all about the brothel and its ways. It was obvious that Big-ears was the self-appointed thinker of the group and saw himself as the voice of reason. I suspected that this was less the product of intelligence than the result of his being the most nervous of the three, but since he was arguing for my release I held my tongue. Neither did I voice the sudden thought which I had almost blurted out a moment earlier: why had Lyra sent Rufinus to find my slave? How had she known that I possessed one, come to that? I’d assumed the boy had been sent to warn Plautus, but it seemed that I was wrong.

  In fact, it was a mystery which I found troubling. I had parted company with Promptillius long before I spotted Plautus and went after him, so when Lyra had approached me it was in an altogether different part of town. So how had anyone identified Promptillius as mine? And what was the message that Rufinus passed on to him?

  For there had been some sort of message, I was sure of that, and probably ostensibly from me. It was the only thing I could imagine that would have persuaded the stolid Promptillius to desert his post. I said quickly, before Big-ears had time to think this through himself, ‘Well, if you gentlemen are satisfied, I should be getting back. My party will be concerned for me by now, and sending out a search, I shouldn’t be surprised.’

  Cupidus was lurching into thought. ‘So, where’s your slave gone now?’

  It was a question I had asked myself and failed to find a convincing answer for, but I said – with what I hoped was confidence – ‘Gone back to the mansio, I should think. Do you want to come there with me and see? You can check out my story with the guard.’

  I half hoped they would give up at this, and let me go, but to my surprise they all three seized on it, and a moment later we were walking, single file, in the direction of the military inn. Laxus walked behind me, uncomfortably close, and I was aware of the dagger which he still held unsheathed, but hidden now beneath his cloak, presumably in case the guard should notice it. I wondered what would happen if I denounced him to the sentry on the gate, but it was not an experiment I cared to make. Spotty-face was clearly anxious to prove himself a man, fearless and ready with a knife. I didn’t wish to provide him with the opportunity.

  As we approached, the soldier on guard duty came out to block our way. ‘Who is it, and what’s your business here?’

  Laxus urged me forward with his blade. I took a step into the ring of light which blazed from the torches hanging on the wall. The burly guard drew his sword and looked me up and down. ‘What are you doing here? And who are these?’ He examined my companions, his armour glittering in the torchlight with a hundred little reflected flames. ‘I know you three. Get off home, or I’ll report you to your fathers. I am surprised at you, old man, cavorting with these rogues. You’ve no idea the trouble they cause.’

  ‘Not cavorting,’ I said firmly. ‘I asked them the way, that’s all. And perhaps you could resolve a little disagreement we had. I say that Marcus Aurelius Septimus brought a citizen-client of his here today, before he went to the games. Can you confirm that?’

  The soldier seemed to think a moment before answering. ‘A bet, is it? Well, what you say is true. I can’t see why I shouldn’t tell you that. It’s no secret that His Excellence was here. But his client is not here at the moment, if that’s who you want. He went off shopping in the market with a slave, and he’s not yet returned. The slave came back alone a little while ago.’

  That reassured me. Promptillius was safe. When I got inside I’d talk to him and try to piece together what exactly had gone on, and who had sent him the order to go home. I turned to Cupidus. ‘You see? It is all exactly as I said. I was telling you the truth.’

  They seemed to realise the force of this. The effect upon all three of them was startling. I have seen something of the kind before, when people have discovered suddenly that I’m a Roman citizen and under the protection of the law – and these three had more to fear from that than most. Not only were they possibly guilty of injuria – infraction of my dignity – they’
d actually laid violent hands on me. And I knew about that dagger, too.

  Laxus had turned sallower than ever in the torchlight. ‘I never touched you,’ he protested fervently. ‘It was them. They urged me on. They thought you were a spy.’

  Cupidus was vigorous in self-defence. ‘Well, you can’t altogether blame us, citizen. You come lurking round the tavern in the dark, dressed like a nobody, and start hiding in doorways and sidling up to us. What are we going to think? It’s just the sort of nasty trick those bath-siders would use – sending a stranger round to spy on us, pretending he had come to ask the way.’ His voice was shriller now and he was talking fast. ‘We’ve had this sort of thing before, and the next day or week or month, you can depend on it, there is an ambush somewhere off the beaten track and some member of our family is attacked or disappears. No wonder we treat outsiders with distrust. Why, if I get hold of one of them I’ll . . .’

  Aurissimus took him gently by the arm. ‘Come on, Cupidus, that’s enough. You’ve made your point. We’ve had too much to drink. Let’s go, before this citizen decides to lay a charge.’ And, rather reluctantly, Cupidus allowed himself to be led away, with Laxus trailing after them.

  I stood and watched them till they were out of sight. Only then did I start to feel secure.

  The guard must have read my feelings in my face. ‘You look relieved to see the back of them. If they’ve been harassing you, you should have told me so. I’d have had them in for questioning and pleased to do it too.’ He winked. ‘We’ve had a lot of trouble with young men like that – writing on buildings, fighting in the street, pawing women and frightening the elderly. But of course, I know those three – all sons of wealthy fathers hereabouts. Their families have got influence, and no one local dares to bring a charge.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know what’s come over young people nowadays. No respect for proper authority, that’s what. It’s all down to drink. Too much money and not enough to do.’

  He was obviously inclined to chat and I was glad to hear a friendly voice. I was in no danger here. ‘They do come from important families, then?’ I said. ‘I rather guessed as much.’

  His teeth gleamed in the torchlight as he grinned. ‘Not as important as they’d like to be. Those three cousins in particular. You know what it’s like. When we got here – the army, that is – and took over in the area, we laid out the town and appointed a few of the most loyal local chiefs to help us run it – made them citizens and put them on the council, all that sort of thing.’

  I frowned. ‘Their fathers are on the ordo?’ If those youths were citizens as well, that put a different complexion on the thing.

  My informant laughed. ‘Nothing so exalted. But they would like to be. Set themselves up as patrons of the town, at considerable expense, and run the local suburb where they live – they’re on every council and committee which doesn’t actually require you to be a citizen – and try to court favour with the authorities, but at the same time they resent us, because we didn’t select them as councillors in the first place.’ He sighed. ‘Perhaps we should have done. They fought beside us too. But nothing is ever simple round here. The tribes are always quarrelling among themselves, and it’s hard to work out who are the natural chiefs.’ Like many soldiers he talked of the Roman Empire as ‘we’, as if imperial decisions were his personal concern.

  ‘I understand there’s quite a lot of tension in the town. Rival groups have power in different parts of it.’

  His face closed like a door. ‘Not as far as we’re concerned, they don’t. The civil administration works, that’s all that worries us. If these people want to carry on old feuds behind locked doors, that’s up to them. As long as they don’t interfere with the free passage of supplies and troops, they can murder one another till there’s no one left, as far as I’m concerned. Just provided they don’t start bringing cases to the courts, and that’s not very likely. Now – you’ve kept me gossiping too long. Move on.’

  Obviously I had touched a nerve. I flashed a smile. ‘I will,’ I said. ‘Thank you for being so helpful. I’ll see that His Excellence hears of it. Goodnight.’ I started to walk past him into the mansio.

  The sword flashed down across the entrance like lightning, forming a gleaming barrier. ‘And what do you think you’re up to? You can’t go in there.’

  Chapter Seven

  For a moment I thought he was jesting, but one glance at his swarthy face convinced me he was not. All trace of the earlier friendliness had vanished suddenly, and he was looking very menacing indeed.

  In vain I argued that I was the citizen he had talked about. He clearly did not believe a word of it. ‘My name is Libertus,’ I said urgently. ‘I am that client of His Excellence, and I am staying at the inn. Surely you must have been expecting me?’

  He looked at me coldly. ‘I’m not expecting anyone tonight, not even a mounted messenger with the imperial post. Anyway, as you would have discovered if you had made proper enquiries, Libertus may be a tradesman, but he is a Roman citizen, not a scruffy traveller like yourself.’ He looked at my cloak and tunic with contempt. I remembered the optio’s promise not to disclose the fact that I had gone out without my proper dress. Obviously the officer had kept his word. The first man on duty at the gate had seen me go, of course, but there had been a change of guard since then.

  ‘Send for the optio,’ I said. ‘He’ll vouch for me.’

  ‘The optio is off duty by this time, as you would have realised, if you had ever been inside an inn like this. And his instructions were to bar the gate.’

  I cursed myself. It had not been specifically referred to, naturally, but what I knew of such establishments should have forewarned me that this would be the case. Some subordinate would be on duty in there now, one who had never seen me. I tried another tack. ‘Well, what about the slave – Promptillius? He’ll know who I am.’

  ‘And how am I to call him? Leave the door, so you can slip inside? I wasn’t born last moon. In any case, he isn’t here – as you would have known, if you were the person that you claim to be.’

  ‘But I’m the citizen Libertus . . .’ I began again.

  He interrupted me. ‘Now don’t start that again. Of course you’re not. Promptillius has gone to join his master at the feast. He had the most precise instructions from the man himself. Written orders, too. I saw the wax tablet they were scratched onto myself. I made him show me when I let him in, as proof of his identity. So it’s no use you pretending otherwise.’

  ‘Promptillius has gone to Marcus?’ I was bewildered now.

  ‘He’s gone to join his master! This Libertus fellow. You heard what I said. Don’t look at me like that. I saw the note. The slave was to come here and tell us that there’d been a change of plan: Libertus the pavement-maker was to dine with his patron after all, and attend the assizes in the morning as a spectator. He wanted his slave to take fresh clothes and go to him at once, so that he could bathe and change and make ready for the feast. Now, I don’t know what you’re playing at, my friend, but it won’t work with me. Some trick of those young scoundrels, I suppose. One of their stupid wagers, was it, that you could get inside the mansio? You should have more sense, at your age. Well, it didn’t work. I’m not as stupid as they take me for. So, are you going to move along, or shall I lock you up, for trying to impersonate a citizen?’

  He had his sword-blade to my throat by now. I moved along.

  His threat was not an idle one. Impersonating a citizen can, at worst, mean death – although it did occur to me, as I slunk off into the shadows, that since I really was a citizen, the charge would be difficult to prove. In fact – although it would mean a beating, chains and an uncomfortable bed of stinking straw – at least inside the military cells I would be safe. I would have a roof above my head and be protected from the other harassments, half-glimpsed and wholly unexplained, which had dogged me ever since I got to town. In the morning I would be brought before the optio, who would quickly have me freed – and what would happen t
o the pompous sentry then! I almost considered going back and defying him to carry out his threat, but I had thought of another, less drastic solution to my plight – one which did not involve a thrashing!

  There is one place, at least, where a man can find a bed, behind a curtain and in privacy, at almost any time of night without too many questions being asked. Of course, there were the other occupants to think about – the girls with interesting specialities – but such females are paid to please their clients. I reasoned that if a customer required them to simply let him sleep while they kept watch, presumably they could be persuaded to do so, at a price.

  I would not go to Lyra’s brothel, naturally. I was certain that she’d set Paulinus onto me, and probably my unseen follower as well, and in any case I remembered what Aurissimus Big-ears had said about the dangers to one’s purse in her establishment. However, the owner of the thermopolium had spoken of that other wolf-house with the girls upstairs, whose doors were always open day and night. The premises were not far from his own and the area was not controlled by Lyra and her friends. If I could find my way there, that seemed the safest place.

  Even so, the plan involved some risk. It was getting very late by now, and I would have to retrace my steps back to the bath-house sector of the town where I had been followed so disturbingly before. My sole directions were from the hot-soup stall, so my only course was to go back and find the place from there – though Lupus’s thermopolium itself would be long shut by now. Such establishments stay open only as long as there are customers or until the stock of soup runs out.

  Going back again through those deserted streets was not an inviting prospect, but I could not stay where I was, and by now it was threatening to rain. The first drops were already bouncing off the paving stones. I thought wildly of finding shelter underneath an arch, but that was less inviting still: such places are often frequented by vagabonds and thieves and – since murder is the safest form of robbery, as it leaves no witnesses to bring a case – I knew that if I attempted such a thing I would be lucky to survive the night. If I’d had the slightest notion of where my patron was feasting, I might have dared his anger and burst in on him, but I had no idea who his host was, far less how to find him in this unfamiliar town. The wolf-house seemed to be my only hope.