by Ruth Downie
‘I still don’t understand why.’
‘Because I love her, sir.’
Ruso released the pulse. ‘I meant, why aren’t you a gladiator?’
The lad shifted to get more comfortable and winced. ‘My aunt prayed to Christos for me, sir.’
Ruso was tempted to ask the aunt how Christos had come up with the huge sum of money that would be required to induce a gladiator trainer to pull a fighter out in the middle of the games. ‘I don’t know about Marcia,’ he said, recalling how Gnostus’ potion tended to addle the brain, ‘but I’d imagine that whoever paid for you has plans for you herself.’
‘Do I look like the sort of woman who fawns over gladiators, Ruso?’
Ruso wished he had checked behind him before speaking.
‘Our relationship is purely business,’ continued Lollia. ‘I’ve come to ask you to take care of this young man until he can work.’
‘I see,’ said Ruso, not entirely sure that he did.
‘I had some spare jewellery,’ she said, as casually as if she were speaking about a spare pair of socks. ‘His aunt told me about Tertius’ situation and said he was a good worker.’
Still baffled, Ruso said, ‘You could have bought an ordinary slave for much less.’
‘Our Lord gave his life to redeem us,’ said Lollia. ‘All I needed to give was a few coloured stones. And I’m certainly not looking for a man for myself. Not this close to the final judgement.’
‘I see,’ repeated Ruso, now wishing he didn’t. ‘So you’re another one?’
The gap-toothed smile that had so impressed him a few days ago reappeared. ‘I was still thinking about it when you took the trouble to warn me the other day,’ she said. ‘Your attitude helped me make my mind up.’
‘Which Lord is that, Lollia dear?’ asked Arria, who had evidently been listening over the garden wall.
While Lollia was cheerfully confirming that she had decided to join the followers of Christos, Ruso was deciding that he was going to keep his mouth shut about religion in future. And he was going to have proper arrangements for visitors, with a waiting area and servants to usher people in and out of the study, instead of holding this sort of free-for-all where anybody could wander up and barge into his conversations.
‘Gaius is very interested in Christos, aren’t you, Gaius? Would he have to do that circumcision thing, do you think, dear, or don’t they do that these days?’
‘I am not doing the circumcision thing!’ snapped Ruso. ‘And I am not going to turn into a follower of Christos. Somebody has to keep their feet on the ground around here. Sorry, Lollia.’
‘Oh, but Gaius, dear, you could –’
‘No, he couldn’t, Mother,’ insisted Flora. ‘And besides, Lollia’s given loads of her money away now, so what’s the point?’
Chapter 86
‘How can you possibly lecture me about what love is?’ demanded Marcia, planting both hands on the study desk and glaring at Ruso. ‘What do you know about it?’
‘Not a lot,’ agreed Ruso. ‘But how many girls get the chance to nurse a hero?’
Marcia wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t like ill people.’
‘I’m only asking you to like this one,’ said Ruso. ‘Especially as he’s not out of danger yet.’ He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. ‘I’m not saying you have to marry him tomorrow. But if you get up those stairs right away, smile at Tertius and convince him he’s got something to look forward to, I’ll fix your dowry by the end of next week.’
Marcia paused to consider this. ‘Will you cancel those awful music lessons?’
‘Agreed,’ said Ruso, who had never seen the point of spending money on them anyway.
‘And I want my own bedroom instead of sharing with Flora.’
‘You can have that upstairs room after Tertius has recovered and gone to work at Lollia’s.’
‘What? That’s not a room, it’s a cupboard!’
Ruso folded his arms. ‘That’s my final offer.’
Marcia grinned. ‘All right, then. I would have looked after him anyway, you know.’
He decided to let her enjoy her triumph. Nursing Tertius back to health would be a long, slow job. ‘You don’t happen to know where Tilla is, do you? I can’t remember what she said she was doing this morning.’
Marcia extended a finger to poke him in the chest. ‘That, Gaius, is exactly why you have no right to lecture me about love.’
Chapter 87
The door-latch dropped with a click. Over in his bed, Tilla stirred and opened her eyes. He supposed she had crept in here to sleep off the exhaustion of all the chasing about last night. ‘Sorry to wake you.’
‘I am not asleep. I am thinking.’
This was ominous.
‘In my country,’ she said, ‘women can be warriors.’
‘Well, in my country they can’t.’
She said, ‘There is something I did not tell you about what happened in that bar in Arelate.’
‘Do you want me to know?’
She thought about that for a while, then said, ‘No.’
Outside, two figures were making their way down between the tall rows of the vineyard. Watching Cass slip an arm around Lucius’ ample waist as he paused to inspect a vine, Ruso said suddenly, ‘What makes a marriage happy?’
‘I do not know. I have never been married.’
Should he ask directly, or hint? Allude to his last proposal, or begin afresh? He should have practised. In the absence of rehearsal, it was best not to try to be clever. He took a deep breath and sat down beside her on the bed. ‘Tilla, I have something to ask you. Will you –’
‘Those insects are not screeching today.’
He swallowed. ‘It’s the end of the summer.’
‘Soon the ships will stop crossing the seas.’
‘That’ll be a few weeks.’
‘Then I should go now.’
He said, ‘I can’t take you yet. I’ve promised to look after Tertius.’
‘And you have Lollia Saturnina and that old wife with the strange hair,’ she said.
‘They’re just friends.’
‘The nephews and nieces have their mother,’ she continued. ‘Cass and Lucius have each other. Marcia has her gladiator, Galla has Christos, your stepmother has Diphilus –’
‘What?’
‘Oh, open your eyes, Ruso!’
They both stared at each other in surprise. She had never called him that before.
‘I need to visit Claudia this afternoon,’ he said, and watched her mouth tighten. ‘Just to see how she is and irritate her enough for her to remember why she can’t live with me.’
‘I see. And then what will happen?’
He said, ‘Ennia said there was a stash of money hidden away in Rome. If that’s true, it would help me shift the family debt. I could go down there and try to track it down –’
‘I am not going to Rome.’
‘Or we could –’
‘I have seen enough greedy people who like to show murder to their children.’
‘I –’
‘If this is what you call peace, it is not worth it.’
He said, ‘Have you finished?’
She thought about that for a moment, then said, ‘Yes. For now.’
‘Or Valens is bound to know some unit in Britannia where there’s a medic’s job out of the reach of the rebels, or warriors, or whatever they’re supposed to be called.’
‘They should be called people of honour.’
‘Please don’t start that now.’
She said, ‘I am not the one who is starting.’
He lay back on the pillow with his hands behind his head. ‘You asked me once if I was ashamed of you.’
‘Are you?’
‘I’m the one who should be ashamed. I should have introduced you better.’
‘And what would you have said?’
He paused. ‘I would have said, “This is Tilla. She is the bravest and most beautif
ul woman I know, and I don’t deserve her.” ’
She smiled. ‘All these things are true.’ The smile faded. ‘I will want children,’ she said.
He thought about that for a moment. ‘I shall expect them to read and write and speak Latin and Greek and be properly brought up.’
‘I will teach them to sing the song of my ancestors.’
‘Do you have to?’
‘All six of them.’
‘What is this, a competition?’
He slid his hand into hers, and their fingers intertwined. After a moment he said, ‘You really think Arria and Diphilus are serious?’
‘You should encourage him. Then perhaps he will clean out the drains for free.’
‘We might not need him,’ he said. ‘Feel that breeze?’ He lifted his head to look out of the open window and squinted at the clouds forming in the distance. ‘I think it’s going to rain.’
Author’s Note
Readers who are familiar with modern Nîmes will know the amphitheatre, the temple and the other fine remains which inspired much of this novel, although neither Ruso’s family Temple to Diana nor the gladiator barracks survive amongst them. Fortunately for the good citizens of Nemausus, there is also no record of Fuscus, nor of his cousin the Senator.
It occurs to me that at some points in this story there may be readers wondering: ‘Why didn’t they just call the police?’ The Roman Empire was equipped with neither an investigative police force nor a prison system in the sense that we understand them.
Furthermore, there will be readers who would offer Christians to lions without hesitation. However, the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian were a period of relative calm for the early Church: a lull between the persecutions of the first century and the gruesome martyrdoms which took place in Lyon only a couple of generations later.
Anyone seeking a more reliable source than fiction may be interested in:
Roman Medicine by Audrey Cruse,
Pagans and Christians by Robin Lane Fox,
Religions of Rome (volume 1) by Mary Beard, John North and Simon Price,
Gladiators by Michael Grant,
The Bankers of Puteoli – Finance, Trade and Industry in the Roman World by David Jones,
Textbook on Roman Law by Andrew Borkowski and Paul du Plessis, and
Voyage en Gaule Romaine by Gérard Coulon and Jean-Claude Golvin.
But of course the best way to discover Gallia Narbonensis is on foot, armed with plenty of time and a copy of The Roman Remains of Southern France – A Guidebook by James Bromwich.
Acknowledgements
Grateful thanks for their help in bringing order to chaos go to Mari Evans, Benjamin Adams, Peta Nightingale and Araminta Whitley, and by the time this manuscript reaches print, unsung but invaluable copy editors will have tidied away many infelicities.
For suggestions and sources on medicine ancient and modern, Roman law and the Roman remains of Provence, I am grateful to Professor John Scarborough, Carole Page, Dr Paul du Plessis and Stephen Young. Any errors are, of course, mine.
Fellow scribes Chris Allen, Carol Barac, Kathy Barbour, Caroline Davis, Maria Murphy, Jan Lovell, Sian Parrett and Guy Russell read and reread versions of the early chapters with enormous patience, and Andy Downie put up with lots of grumbling and some very strange and hastily concocted offerings for dinner.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ruth (RS) Downie is the author of Ruso and the Disappearing Dancing Girls, which was a New York Times bestseller under the title Medicus, and Ruso and the Demented Doctor, both of which are bestsellers published by Penguin. She is married with two sons and lives in Buckinghamshire.
