Georgicus picked up the wooden bar again and slotted it back so it secured the gate. ‘I wonder where that gatekeeper has got to!’ he remarked, shaking the gate to make sure it held fast.
‘I expect he’ll turn up somewhere – dead, more than likely,’ I said, leading the way across the court into the storage yard.
‘There’s the other one to deal with sometime, too.’ The overseer was following closely, with Tenuis straggling a little way behind. ‘But I’ll come back for that – get a couple of land-slaves over here to cut him down.’
I glanced at Tenuis to see how he was taking this but after what he’d learned about his friend, gatekeepers obviously did not concern him very much. His wide-eyed expression was all about our route. ‘Are you going out to take me with you through the front?’ he said, in wonderment. ‘I’ve never been out that way in my life!’ He spoke as if that were a score of years at least.
I managed not to smile. ‘It will be all right today. Just stay with us.’ I led the way out through the little gate and so out to the front enclosure of the house. Tenuis glanced around in awe, taking in the gravelled drive, the handsome statues, garden beds and trees. Obviously his duties had never included sweeping leaves or weeding here!
We hurried him past the little cell beside the gate, but his goggle-eyed admiration for the fountain we’d just passed preserved him from any interest in the gatekeeper’s abode, where – just visible from this angle through the half-open door – the corpse of the unhappy occupant was still dangling from its hook. Fortunately Tenuis did not glance that way.
Georgicus pulled the gates ajar and closed them after us, so that they looked very much as they had when I arrived – though of course they still could not be bolted properly. In the meantime, I untied my mule. She was munching grasses by the verge and seemed reluctant to abandon them, but with hauling and coaxing I got her to the path and with Georgicus’s assistance I climbed onto her back.
‘When you get back to the vineyard, send my attendant home,’ I told the land-slave captain, reaching into the branches overhead to break off a supple length to serve me as a switch. Without it Arlina would stand stolidly all day.
‘Home? I thought you were taking him to Glevum,’ Georgicus replied.
‘Tell him he can help my wife this afternoon, instead. I probably shan’t go to my workshop now. In any case, I’ll let my son take care of any business today. I’ll just call at my roundhouse and reassure him that I’m alive and well, and leave him to make his own way into town. I’ll have to hurry if I’m going to pay a visit to the garrison. And if I mean to call in at the Funeral Guild as well, in time for them to get here before dark, I really don’t have time to wait for Minimus to come,’ I said, peeling the unwanted leaves and twiglets off my switch.
Georgicus frowned. ‘But that means you will be without an attendant for the day, citizen. Would it not be better for me to fetch your servant here? I’ll find a land-slave to take over from him in the vineyard now. I think I know exactly where this clearing is, and I can have someone down there in no time at all. Your slave is only acting as a symbol, anyway.’
I shook my head. ‘If I’m to catch a courier from the Imperial post today, I must be in Glevum before the noonday trumpet sounds. The commander of the garrison is a friend of Marcus’s. When he knows what’s happened here I’m sure there’ll be no problem about those messages. But it is already later than I realised – look at those shadows – and it will take some time to get to Glevum, even with a mule. The forest paths are still treacherous with mud. Better if I go as soon as possible.’
Georgicus waved a hand at Tenuis. ‘Then why don’t you take him with you for the day? He’s not much use to me. But he could mind your mule for you. Or even take the message to the Funeral Guild and come back here with them.’
Tenuis looked rather terrified at this. ‘I don’t know Glevum, captain. I would just get lost. They would not believe me, either, if I asked them to come. I’d have to have a proper message written down.’
Georgicus looked a little sheepish. The boy was right. He was so young that he was an unlikely messenger, and of course the slave-captain – like most land-slaves – could not really read or write.
‘I’ll see to that,’ I offered quickly. ‘I have a writing tablet at my workshop, and a seal. You can give that to the guild. That should be enough authority. And as for getting lost, I’ll deliver you to the proper place myself. But it will save me time if I don’t have to go inside and talk to them.’ I turned to Georgicus. ‘A good idea, slave-captain. The guild will bring him back to you. And it will not slow me down. Arlina is accustomed to carrying two of us, and Tenuis is even smaller than my slave. Lift the boy up and he can ride with me.’
‘I’ll go and get my land-slaves started with that pyre and that lament, and send your slave back home as soon as possible,’ Georgicus said. He scooped the boy up as though he were a sack and lifted him to sit in front of me, where Minimus had been, though Tenuis was so light and skinny that he seemed no weight at all. I dug my heels in, flicked my switch and Arlina shambled off.
I turned my head to see Georgicus staring after us, looking, I thought, a little bit relieved. He watched me for a moment, raised one hand in farewell, then turned and set off running down the lane with that distinctive loping gait of his.
ELEVEN
I tried hard to talk to Tenuis, as Arlina began shambling down the track. I hoped to gain his confidence, now we were alone, and learn a little more about the men that he had seen at the villa, but it was no use. The boy was obviously unused to being on an animal – I think it was the first time that he’d ever been hoisted up so high – and he was far too terrified to speak. This was going to be a tedious journey into town, I thought.
But we’d hardly turned the corner when I heard a voice.
‘Father!’ It was Junio coming towards us, the promised wood-axe in his hand, and Maximus, my other red-haired slave-boy, at his heels. ‘There you are! Mother and I were getting quite concerned …’
‘We were going to come and save you,’ Maximus added. ‘I’ve got a weapon too.’ He proudly showed me the wooden hammer he was carrying – an old one that I used for hammering stakes into the ground. ‘It’s just a pity Minimus isn’t here. He can use a slingshot wonderfully.’
It was rather touching, given that Junio had seen the corpses in the orchard earlier, and knew what he might be facing if the murderers had come back. But Maximus was an unlikely warrior. Despite his name, he was the smaller of my slaves – the top of his head reached scarcely to my chest – and it was all he could do to hold the hammer high with both his hands. But there was no mistaking his sincerity or the look of grim determination on his face.
I repressed a tiny grin. ‘Thank you, Maximus, but that won’t be necessary now,’ I said, as gravely as I could. I turned to Junio. ‘I think I know what happened at the villa, now, though it’s a rather a long tale.’ Very briefly, I outlined what I’d learned of yesterday’s events.
Junio whistled. ‘So that’s why most of the furniture has gone. The household was first tricked into assisting with the robbery, and then killed because they might identify the thieves. So no one is alive who saw anything at all?’
‘Only this little fellow.’ I nodded down at Tenuis, who was still sitting on the mule in front of me, clutching mutely at my knees. ‘But the killers don’t know that, so he’s quite safe with me.’
‘Why has he got his eyes closed?’ Maximus enquired, and I realised that Tenuis must have had squeezed his lids tight shut ever since we put him on Arlina’s back.
‘Because he’s not used to being on a mule. I’m taking him to Glevum to get the Funeral Guild. But first I’ll have to call in on the garrison.’ I explained my errand there and turned to Junio. ‘You and Maximus can follow me to town and open up the shop. I’ll meet you there when I’ve finished delivering my messages.’
‘But you’ll want your toga, won’t you,’ Junio enquired, ‘if you’re goi
ng to call on the commander with that kind of request? Otherwise you will be lucky if they don’t make you wait for hours.’
He was quite right, of course. Wearing that badge of citizenship is not legally required, except in the forum and at public festivals, but my simple tunic marked me as the tradesman that I am. More formal dress would be a good idea. ‘I’d better call in at home and pick it up – though I’ll have to carry it. I’m not going to wear it all the way to town. It will get bedraggled and just be in my way.’ A toga is an awkward garment at the best of times, and always likely to unwind itself into unseemly loops, so a muddy journey on a mule along a rutted, steep and treacherous forest track was hardly an ideal environment for wearing one.
‘But there’s a toga at the workshop!’ Maximus put in, so anxious to be helpful that he interrupted us, which is not generally permitted for a slave. He realised that himself. ‘Please forgive me, master, for speaking out of turn. But don’t you remember, you spilt wine on it before your patron left? We took to the fullers in the town. I brought it back from cleaning yesterday. But you were in such a hurry to get back to see the vines that in the end we didn’t bring it home.’
‘I had forgotten, but it makes life easier,’ I said. It was only my second-best toga, a little frayed around the hems, but now that it was clean it would look respectable enough. ‘I’ll call into the workshop so I can write the message for Tenuis to take and, while I’m there, I’ll get that toga on. Tenuis will have to help me, though he’s not been trained. It isn’t possible to do it on my own and may take some time to get it neatly draped. I’ll have to hurry if I hope to get back to the garrison by noon.’
‘Then you ride on,’ my son replied. ‘I’ll call in and tell Mother that you are safe and well, and Maximus and I will put these weapons down, then follow you on foot. If we’re very lucky we might even find a cart that’s going our way – there’s often someone at this time of day – and I don’t mind paying the driver an as or two to carry us as well. Either way, we’ll see you at the workshop as soon as possible.’
I nodded. ‘Very well. Come on, Arlina!’ And I applied my switch. There was a faint moan from Tenuis as we lurched off again, but that – apart from his involuntary squeak where the path was particularly steep and dangerous – was the only sound he uttered till we reached the city walls.
‘Are we there?’ he muttered, as we shambled to a stop outside the gate and I realised that he must have had his eyes tight shut again.
‘Not quite,’ I told him. ‘But you can get down from the mule. We’ll walk her through the town. It’s not illegal to take an animal. The law is only for horse-drawn vehicles. Although it’s probably better to …’ But I was talking to myself. He had already ducked under my restraining arm and slithered to the ground.
‘I’m on my feet again! I never enjoyed just standing up so much!’ He looked up at me with such an expression of relief that I didn’t have the heart to offer a rebuke. ‘Can I help you to get down as well, master?’ he added as an obvious afterthought.
I shook my head. I wasn’t sure that he was tall or strong enough to be of any use. ‘Just hold the mule,’ I answered. ‘I can manage well enough.’
This boast proved to be not altogether true. I used to be a skilful horseman in my youth, but I am old and stiff these days and Arlina’s inclined to be contrary, anyway. So my descent was awkward and undignified – much to the amusement of the sentry at the gate. I turned my back on him and ostentatiously smoothed my tunic down, trying to look as self-composed as possible. But as I bent forward to straighten out my hems, I suddenly noticed how small my shadow fell on the wall.
I straightened up at once. ‘Dear Mercury, the sun is nearly overhead. It must be almost noon!’ I said to Tenuis. ‘And my workshop’s right at the other end of town. I don’t think I’ve got time to get my toga first. I’ll have to take a chance on calling at the garrison dressed like this. If I explain that I’m here on Marcus’s behalf, they might let me talk to the commander straight away.’ I gestured with my hand towards the military compound just inside the gate.
Tenuis looked where I was pointing. And boggled, visibly. ‘You really think they’ll let you in there, master?’ he murmured, wide-eyed with disbelief.
I attempted not to preen. There is only a small garrison detachment based at Glevum now, and it does not occupy as much of Glevum as it did – most of its former land is occupied by private tenements and public buildings. But what remains is still impressive. Only the front section was visible from here, no more than the guard tower and the nearest barracks block, peeping over the enclosure, but Tenuis had clearly never seen anything like it in his life. ‘I’ve been there several times,’ I told him self-importantly. ‘I’m sure if I explain to the gatehouse who I am—’
‘I shouldn’t bother, tradesman.’ I was interrupted by the sentry, who had come across to us, making no pretence that he’d not been listening. ‘The garrison’s been turning all visitors away, except for the town council who’ve been turning up in droves.’ He tapped his nose. ‘There’s obviously something important happening. We’ve had imperial messengers dashing in and out since dawn.’ He spoke indulgently, as though he were dealing with an innocent buffoon – no doubt the result of my ungainly exhibition while getting off the mule earlier. ‘And there hasn’t been a route march or shield practice for the day.’
I frowned at him, still prickling. ‘That’s most unusual.’
‘I know it’s unusual, tradesman. That’s why I’m telling you.’ He said it sharply. All the former friendliness had disappeared.
I instantly regretted giving way to pique. I tried my most con-spiratorial smile. ‘Some preparations for the Imperial Birthday Feast, do you think? Or has the Provincial Governor decided to make a visit to the town?’
But I’d affronted him and he turned impatiently away. ‘Don’t ask me, tradesman, because that is all I know. I’ve been stuck here for hours supervising travellers in and out of town. Nobody tells the gate-guard anything. I don’t suppose I’ll find out any more till I am relieved.’
‘Well, I’ll try my luck at the garrison anyway. The commander knows me. I expect they’ll let me in. If I do learn anything I’ll come and let you know. Come, Tenuis,’ and I took the leading-rope from the astounded boy.
The soldier shrugged and stood aside to let us through the gate, ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ He stood, hands balanced on hips and watched us through the gateway to the town.
I tried to ignore him and walked stoutly on. Once we reached the entry to the nearby mansio – the military inn – I turned to Tenuis. ‘You stay here with the mule. I’ll talk to the man on duty at that entrance over there.’ I thrust the mule’s leading rope at him, then went on to the gatehouse of the garrison.
It was obvious at once that the sentry at the town gate was right. There was something unusual happening. It is never easy to see inside the fort – the wall around is built to keep out spectators – but through the gateway I could see the stretch of road which led past the barrack-block, and the main administration block and guard tower just inside the gates. Through the central arch I could glimpse the inner court which sometimes functioned as a muster ground. But there were no soldiers gathered there today. Instead the town’s most senior councillors seemed to be having a conclave in the open air. I craned my head to get a better look.
A bulky figure in full armour moved to block my view. ‘What are you staring at, tradesman? What’s your business here?’ A burly soldier in the distinctive sideways crest of a centurion was confronting me. I knew several of the senior soldiery by now, but I didn’t recognise this one – though I knew the type. It was written in the strutting swagger and the sneering upper lip. He was a big, ugly fellow with a broken nose and a pair of unusually narrow squinting eyes, which were looking at my tunic with undisguised contempt. But a full centurion on humble gate-duty? That was a surprise. So was the drawn sword he was grasping in his hand.
‘Well, fellow?’
he bellowed, raising the blade slowly until its tip was pointing at my neck.
‘My name is Longinus Flavius Libertus,’ I told him, though my voice came out a squeak. The three full Roman names denote a citizen, and in normal times would earn a little more respect, but it isn’t easy to sound lofty when there’s a sword-point at your throat. ‘I am a Roman citizen,’ I bleated. ‘And I have an urgent message for the commander of the garrison.’ It did not sound convincing, even to myself.
The eyes did not falter in their disdainful glare, but the sword-point was lowered an inch or two, so that it merely pointed at my ribs. ‘Citizen, is it? You don’t look much like a citizen to me. So Longinus What-ever-your-name-is, unless you have a warrant with the imperial seal—’ he raised a mocking supercilious brow at me ‘—and I assume you don’t, then you will have to wait. The commander’s busy and he’s not to be disturbed. Come back some other time.’
‘But—’
‘No buts! You heard me. Now, disappear, and make it quick.’
‘The commander knows me. I’m sure he would see me if he knew it was me.’ I knew that I was sounding desperate. ‘Call somebody and ask him. It’s about my patron, Marcus Septimus.’
The name, for once, had no effect at all. ‘I will call someone in a minute, certainly.’ The fleshy lips were drawn back in an unpleasant smile, revealing a row of yellow pointed teeth. ‘But it won’t be to ask the commander anything. It will be to march you inside and lock you in a cell. The commander is busy. I have told you that. He’s not receiving anyone today. So make your mind up, citizen – if that is what you are. Are you going to go on standing there demanding an audience, or can you understand what’s good for you? Go away. And that’s an order.’ The sword-point gave me a little warning prod. I felt it touch the handle of the knife, which I’d forgotten that I’d tucked into my belt. It was just as well that Gwellia had insisted on my putting on that cloak, so it wasn’t visible – for a civilian to carry a bladed weapon was a serious offence.
The Fateful Day Page 9
