TWENTY-FOUR
It was no simple matter to arrange the bier, in the event, but with the aid of Minimus and Vesperion (who was released from his vigil to assist) I managed it. Minimus was almost overcome again at dealing with the body of his friend, but he put a brave expression on his little face and did his best to help, while the old steward’s knowledge of transporting packages made him a very useful assistant in the task. So a little later we had Maximus arranged, decently swaddled in my toga winding-cloth and securely lying on the frame along Arlina’s back.
I sent in for Alfredus Allius (who had by this time paid the celebrants their promised fees) and together we four set off towards the town, leaving the priest and Junio to complete the cleansing rites. As we were leaving, the herb woman waddled out, still carrying her pail.
I half expected her to want to walk with us – the Egidius house lay in our direction anyway and she would have had an escort for the best part of the way – but she’d obviously decided to accept the pageboy as a guide this time. She waved her bucket at us in farewell, lowered her enormous bulk onto my stockpiled stones, and began to ply him with stories of successful prophesies and ghosts she’d laid to rest. When I looked back from the corner of the road, she’d drawn a little audience of passers-by, including Festus and the tanner’s wife, both of whom were listening open-mouthed.
I nodded, satisfied. The future of my shop was in no danger now – these tales of her expertise would spread across the town and do more to restore the confidence of potential customers than any cleansing rituals by the priest. I turned my attention to dealing with the mule.
Arlina did not seem to mind the strange contraption on her back. Indeed she moved quite willingly, without the need for me to use my switch at all. ‘Almost as if she senses what she is carrying,’ Minimus said, wistfully – though privately I suspected that this unusual obedience had more to do with her being accustomed to bearing panniers: her previous owner used to fit her with a pair to carry crops into the town for him to sell.
‘I hope the soldier on watch will let us through the gate,’ I said, as our little party plodded through the muddy streets towards the northern entrance to the town. ‘And we’re not delayed by a lot of questioning. The shadows are already lengthening. I want to be sure that we are home by dusk, and I don’t want to take the long way round the outside of the walls.’
Alfredus Allius, who was picking up his feet and carefully lifting his mourning toga clear of mire, looked up anxiously. ‘But I hope we’re not caught up in the proclamation crowds. There may be a disturbance when the news about the Emperor is read, and the army won’t be gentle if they have to curb the mob.’
But we need not have worried on either count, it seemed. It was clear that rumours of all kinds had been spreading faster than the plague through the suburb where the workshop was, and people were pouring out of every shop and alleyway and surging through the gate in the hope of getting to the forum to hear what this promised proclamation was about. There was no question of the soldier stopping them.
If we had not had Alfredus with us, in fact, we might have been caught up by the throng and simply swept along like sticks in the Sabrina when the tide-race runs. The councillor was not wearing his curial stripe, of course, but even his dark toga pulla was a distinctive one, marking him out as an important man, and people did their utmost not to jostle us. So with myself and Alfredus flanking Arlina at the front and our two servants doing the same thing at the back, we managed to transport Maximus with a little dignity.
Once beyond the forum, though, the problem was much eased. The crowd was thinner here in any case – there are not so many houses on this side of town – and now that we were moving against the human tide, people saw us coming and could step aside. A route through the back streets speeded us still more and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves beside the garrison, close to the mansio and the south gate of the town – where I’d last parted company with Maximus, alive.
‘I’ll see you safely through the gate, and then I’ll take my leave. Farewell, citizen. May your little servant rest in peace,’ Alfredus murmured as we approached the gate.
I was about to thank the kindly councillor once more for his generosity, but a voice from the soldier at the gate interrupted my farewells. ‘Citizen Libertus! So we meet again.’
I glanced towards the speaker, half expecting to see the bored sentry who had admitted us at noon, and who had been so amused by my descent from Arlina. But obviously the watch had changed and he had been long since relieved. The man on duty now was of a different build and as he stepped out of the shadows of the arch I realised who it was: none other than Villosus, of the hairy legs.
That was a relief. Villosus knew me and there would be no need for awkward questioning. In fact he’d been ordered to assist me if he could. I smiled at Alfredus. ‘Thank you for being willing to speak up for me, but I know that soldier. There’ll be no problem now.’
But I’d spoken prematurely. As I watched, another figure moved into the arch, and there, resplendent in his distinctive sideways crest, was the centurion I’d nicknamed Cerberus. He had a squad of half a dozen other soldiers with him too. They could be seen drawn up beyond the gate as if they’d just returned from some expedition under his command. He was uglier than ever. And he had clearly spotted me. He was talking to Villosus now and gesturing towards me with his baton as he spoke.
Alfredus Allius had been about to leave, but seeing what was happening he came back to me. ‘There seems to be some difficulty, citizen.’
‘There may be,’ I murmured urgently. ‘I’ve met that centurion before, as well, and he doesn’t care for me. I think he might make trouble if he sees a chance. Perhaps, after all, you could come and speak to him. It may need your authority to make him let me through.’
At the prospect of a confrontation with an armed centurion, Alfredus looked unhappy – as anybody might – but he nodded pleasantly enough. ‘If it involves the safe passage of your slave, of course I will. I wouldn’t flout the wise woman’s advice.’ He touched his amulets.
So he was still hoping to avert bad luck by offering his help? I could only hope it worked. Things weren’t looking very promising. Cerberus had stopped talking to Villosus by this time and stood to meet us, hands upon his hips.
Then, as we approached the gateway with the mule, he deliberately moved into the arch to block the way, his features wreathed in an unpleasant smile. ‘Well, if it isn’t that pesky so-called citizen. You turn up everywhere. What are you up to this time? Content to be in tradesman mode again, I see.’
I did not draw attention to where the toga was. If he saw how I had used it, I could expect a swingeing fine. I gritted my teeth into the semblance of a smile, and said, with what politeness I could summon up, ‘Greetings, officer. Could you let us through? I have completed my business for the day in town and – as you see – I’m returning to my roundhouse with my slave.’
Cerberus gave Minimus a quick, incurious glance. ‘Ah, the little fellow who didn’t get into the garrison with you!’
Minimus seemed about to answer, but I shook my head at him. I didn’t want to correct the man’s mistake about the slave. I didn’t want him asking where the other one had gone and taking too much interest in the cargo on the cart. I tried to look as meek as possible and made no response at all.
Cerberus had clearly not expected that. Perhaps he’d hoped to goad me into some unwise retort. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better let you pass – again! You’re clearly on good terms with the current commandant. But don’t expect such privilege to last. Things are going to be quite different around here very soon.’
Despite his words, he did not move a thumb’s breadth from our path, and the threat – it clearly was one – was still hanging in the air. I was just debating what I was to do – we clearly could not stand there face-to-face for evermore – when Villosus left his post and came scurrying across.
‘Greetings, citizen. I hope you succ
eeded with your business in the town.’
I had to think for a moment what he meant. ‘Ah, the warehouse steward! That’s him over there. And this citizen’s his master. Thank you for your enquiry. I did get the information that I’d been looking for. Though it was not entirely conclusive, I’m afraid. All the same, please convey my thanks to your commander when you can.’ This last was aimed at the centurion of course, who was openly listening to the interchange. I flashed Villosus a friendly, conspiratorial smile. ‘And now I want to hurry home before the trouble starts.’
He looked from me to Cerberus as if considering if he ought to speak or not, but all at once he smiled and took a chance on it. ‘Well, be very careful, citizen, that’s all I can say. There has been a lot of trouble on this road today – rebels on the rampage by the look of it. They must have learned somehow that there’d been tragic news from Rome—’
‘Soldier!’ the centurion gave a warning bark. ‘None of this information has been made public yet.’
‘Oh, the citizen knows all about the Emperor, sir,’ Hairy-Knees replied. ‘The commander made that clear to me when I was ordered to assist.’
‘Knows all about it, does he? I rather thought he did. It wouldn’t surprise me if he knew a great deal else, as well.’ Cerberus came forward and – rudely ignoring Alfredus Allius – stuck his chin an inch from mine. ‘We’ve suddenly got rebel raids on travellers again today – quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you agree? You’d almost think that someone had warned them that the troops were likely to be off the roads, and that the commander had other problems on his mind. Or perhaps it isn’t a coincidence at all. What do you think, citizen? You come from this direction, you – and only you – appear to know the news from Rome, and you’re a Celt yourself. You wouldn’t know anything about this Druid raid, I suppose?’
‘Druids?’ Beside me, Alfredus Allius drew in a sharp breath. ‘I thought the Silurians had finally been quelled.’
There had been trouble a year or two ago when bands of dissident Silurians – still resisting the presence of the Romans in the land – had roamed the neighbourhood, mounting raids on army transport and harrying patrols, though lately these attacks had largely ceased. The rebels had been driven back into their secret hideaways in dense areas of forest where there are wolves and bears and where ordinary people do not go – even woodcutters and charcoal burners rarely venture there.
‘Not these rebels, citizen,’ the centurion replied. ‘And as to being Druids, there’s no doubt of that. We’ve had a report of a brand-new sacred grove … stumbled on by children collecting kindling. There were none of the usual patrols today and the commander wasn’t seeing visitors, so it took a little time for the news to reach us at the fort. But, of course, whatever problems there might be overseas, the army could not ignore a rebel raid. I was told to take a party and investigate at once.’
‘And you discovered … what?’ the councillor demanded. ‘You have found the culprits?’
The centurion shook his head. ‘No trace of them, I fear – though we’ll catch them in the end. But the evidence is there. There’s been a massacre. Killed the whole family, by the look of it – the males at any rate. Children too, it made no difference.’ He squared up to me again. ‘Doesn’t it make you proud to be a Celt?’
I didn’t answer him.
‘No doubt we’ll find another oak tree somewhere else with all the female heads displayed on it – unless they took the women off as slaves. We haven’t found out who the family were, or what they were doing on the road, as yet, so we don’t know how many people were involved. So if you’ve any information, tradesman-citizen, we’d be glad of it.’ He was standing dangerously close to me again.
I should have stood my ground, but instead I took a few steps back and stared at him. ‘A sacred grove? That means decapitated heads.’
‘Perceptive of you, citizen,’ he sneered.
But I was no longer listening. Heads. Of course! I hadn’t looked for them. Dear gods! I must be getting old.
‘How many heads?’ I asked him. Why had I not asked myself that question earlier?
Cerberus looked astonished. ‘About a dozen so far, I suppose. What difference does it make?’ He turned to stare at me. ‘You know something about this. I can see it in you face!’ He seized me roughly by the arm. ‘I knew that there was something about you which I didn’t trust. Let’s see what a little questioning—’
‘Centurion! What are you thinking of? Release the citizen!’ Alfredus Allius’s monotone had taken on an unexpected ring. ‘Whatever’s happened, he is not involved in it. He’s been in my company or my warehouse all the afternoon.’
Cerberus shook his head and gave his horrid grin, but he did release his grip. ‘I’m sorry, councillor. That’s no defence at all. No one suggested that the raid took place this afternoon. This morning, possibly. Certainly not very long ago. I’ve seen a few dead people in my time, and these heads were fairly fresh. None of them had even started to decay.’
I think he hoped to shock me, but he did not succeed – after all, I’d seen the victims of the atrocity.
‘I’m almost sure it happened yesterday,’ I said. ‘And I think that I can tell you where the matching bodies are …’ I trailed off. Matching bodies? I was an idiot. There was only one reason for removing heads. What was it the wise woman had said? ‘It is whatever you expect to see.’ And I’d fallen straight into the trap!
Cerberus was smiling at me nastily. ‘Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the commander, then – and you can tell him who the victims are.’
I shook my head. ‘He already knows. This is the very crime I came to warn him of – though at the time I didn’t know about the heads. Ask him when you go in to report.’
The councillor was frowning at me, doubtfully. ‘You think the heads are from the villa slaves? I suppose it’s possible. But why on earth remove them and hang them in a grove? To make it look like rebels …?’ he broke off suddenly. ‘By all the powers of Dis,’ he cried. ‘Perhaps it was the rebels! They would have seen Marcus as a special enemy – a wealthy Roman, friendly with the Emperor …’ He put his hand up to his throat and clutched his amulets. ‘And I’m a friend and dining-intimate of Marcus.’ He stared at me, his toneless voice full of emotion, suddenly. ‘Great gods, citizen – you think I might be next?’
I shook my head again. ‘I don’t think that these killers will strike round here again. I believe they have accomplished what they meant to do.’ I turned to Cerberus. ‘I didn’t kill these people, officer, but I think I know who did – though I don’t see how to prove it, even if I’m quick enough to find the murderers. So I daren’t make accusations – I’ll find myself in court, facing serious charges of injuria. But for the sake of my dead servant, I shall do my best – if you will permit me to be on my way. You can put that into your report as well. And earn yourself a commendation, too. Assure the commandant that no Celtic rebels are involved.’
TWENTY-FIVE
For a fleeting moment Cerberus looked nonplussed. Then he gave a snorting laugh. ‘You really expect that I will simply let you go, when by your own admission you know something of these deaths? You must be moon-struck, citizen. What do you think my superiors would say?’
Villosus cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think you should hold him, sir. My orders were quite clear. I was to assist him in any way I could, and I was to tell the other soldiers just the same. My understanding was that it applied to all of us, including – if you’ll pardon me for saying so, sir – officers like yourself. I should not like to think that because I didn’t speak, you’d accidently dis-obeyed the commandant.’
‘I don’t recall that I gave you leave to speak, Auxiliary!’ Cerberus snapped, clearly furious, but unable to contest the truth of this. ‘I’ll have you on a charge as soon as you get back – insubordination to a senior officer. That should be a flogging at the least. And you …’ he turned to face me ‘… you have leave to go, this time. But next time that I
find you meddling …!’ He left the threat unfinished ‘Now, stand aside. You’re blocking the road. Don’t you know that it’s illegal to impede the army on the march?’
It was totally unjust. The soldiers were not moving and if anyone was blocking the roadway, it was the centurion himself. But his little outburst had improved his self-esteem. He tucked his baton underneath his arm and swaggered off to organise his men.
I waited dutifully until they shuffled into line and marched with ringing hobnails through the gate and disappeared into the garrison. When they had gone, Villosus turned to me.
‘Did I hear you say your slave was dead?’ He was staring at Minimus as though the boy might somehow be a ghost. Indeed, I realised with a smile, that’s what he was half ready to believe.
‘Not that slave. There’s a dead one, on the mule,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure how and why he died, but I suspect it is connected to these other deaths and he thought he was protecting me. So my first duty has to be to him. Much as I would like to go into the town and try and find the truth about these murderers, I must see he’s taken home with dignity. If I had a faster carriage …’
‘Do you wish me to hire a cart for you and speed the trip?’ Alfredus was still standing at my side. ‘Or Vesperion could take the mule for you, perhaps.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s getting far too late. By the time he reached the roundhouse it would be getting dark, and he’s far too old to be benighted in the wood. And there’s nowhere we could offer him hospitality. Maximus will lie in the slave hut overnight, and the other slaves will have to sleep in the main roundhouse with us, as it is. Besides, I wouldn’t like a stranger to turn up at my door and have to tell my poor wife what had happened to the slave. I couldn’t ask Minimus, he is far too young – I’ll simply have to take the body back myself.’
‘You could leave it in my warehouse,’ the councillor suggested.
It was a kind offer – and I did not turn it down at once. It would call for additional and expensive cleansing rituals, no doubt, given his current superstitious attitudes. Maximus would lie alone in a strange warehouse overnight, and the whole transport problem would arise again next day, but it would allow me to travel on the mule and have time for enquiries in town. So it offered a solution, of a kind.
The Fateful Day Page 22
