Ruso and the River of Darkness

by R. S. Downie

  She yawned again and gazed round the room. Apart from the dreadful business with the brazier last night – the guards had gone now, but some of the staff were still in tears – these were elegant lodgings. They were much better than most of the places she had stayed at with the Medicus on his travels. She would like to have shown this suite to some of the innkeepers they had met in Gaul, who thought they were so superior. The only trouble was, with all those servants around there was nothing left for a normal person to do to occupy her time.

  She had left Londinium in a rush and she had not thought to bring any work with her. Besides, she was tired of spinning to no purpose. Already there were three big bags of skeins stored in sacks down at Valens’ house, ready to be given to a reliable weaver as soon as they were settled somewhere. Perhaps that workshop round the corner from Camma’s house –

  A shadow fell across the window.

  ‘Tilla!’

  The Medicus was reaching for her. His grip was feverish, as if he was afraid to let go.

  ‘It is all right,’ she assured him. His eyes were bleary, and the lines around his mouth deeper than usual. After finding that brazier he must have been awake for the rest of the night. She leaned forward to plant a kiss on his nose. ‘I am feeling better and I have a surprise for you.’

  ‘But Valens said –’

  ‘It was all a muddle.’ She pulled her hands out of his. ‘Come in quick, before he sees you and wants to talk.’

  Inside the room he still clung to her. ‘I told you to wait here for me!’

  ‘The guards said your work was all finished,’ she said, ‘and you were giving a report to the Magistrates. They said they would tell you where I was.’

  ‘They didn’t.’

  ‘Sit down and listen. You are worn out.’ She rang the bell for the servant. While they were waiting she explained what the guards had told her – that after questioning people all morning, it turned out the brazier had been put in their room by the man who had been slipping the frightening notes under the door. ‘It was that Nico all along,’ she said. ‘The one who was supposed to look after the money. It was he who paid somebody to attack me. After he thought he’d killed us he went home and killed himself: did you know?’

  Instead of saying yes or no, he just looked at her with dull eyes. She was reminded of the times when the fighting had been at its worst in the north: he had come home from dealing with the never-ending queues of wounded men, too tired to wash or change, saying he could not sleep and then dozing while his food went cold in front of him. She was surprised: it should have gone well over at the Council. Still, he was tired. He was not a man who liked making speeches. And he must be upset that Nico had nearly managed to kill them both.

  The servant arrived. Tilla ordered wine and began to tell him about the misunderstanding with the guards. At first she had been worried about going with them, especially since he had told her to stay here, but as soon as she looked across the street and saw that Gallonius’ wife really was there waiting for her, she had realized they were telling the truth. It was to be a surprise. ‘The Council are so pleased that you helped them find their money!’

  ‘Is that what she said?’

  ‘She wanted me to look at the house before they spoke to you.’ She caught his eye. ‘We do not have to stay if you don’t want to. But it is a good house. And there would be plenty of patients coming through the mansio, and Valens could come and visit, and I could keep company with Camma and the baby until her family –’ She stopped. She had not told him about the letters. No wonder he was looking blank.

  ‘When you are not so tired,’ she said, ‘you will think this is funny. I have started sending letters.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘I have come to see that there is a use for reading and writing. When someone is a long way away.’ She smiled. ‘And you can pretend to be anybody in a letter.’ She had gone to the scribe in the Great Hall and paid him to write two letters for her: one from herself, the midwife, to Camma’s family telling them their sister was left on her own with a healthy and beautiful son, and one from somebody called Ruso to Valens, telling him to get here fast as young Marcus was seriously ill but he had not wanted to frighten Serena by telling her. ‘So here he is,’ she said. ‘I knew you would not mind. It is not going well between them, but I think they are both even more unhappy apart than they are together.’

  He said, ‘You were out looking at a house with Gallonius’ wife?’

  ‘Just around the corner. With a garden. We could have hens.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But not a cockerel.’

  He ran a hand through his hair and made it stick up. ‘I came here to do a job for Firmus.’

  ‘And you have,’ she said. ‘Never mind if the speech was no good. If you are doctor to the mansio you will not have to make any more speeches.’

  ‘Is that what you want? To live in a place like this with these people?’

  She had chosen the wrong time to tell him: she could see that now. He was tired and bad-tempered. ‘It is not home,’ she agreed. ‘And it is the Catuvellauni. But we have to go somewhere.’

  ‘The magistrates say they’re going to deal with Dias,’ he said, not sounding as though he believed it.

  ‘Dias cannot be trusted,’ she agreed. ‘But Camma will curse him, and perhaps the gods will bring justice.’

  ‘I think he flattered one of the housemaids into lending him the key to our room. No wonder he wanted to question them all in private. And I’m sure he was Valens’ burglar. There’s nothing wrong with his back that I can see. If I had longer I’d –’

  ‘But you are not an investigator now! It is finished. Let the Council deal with it. You are a Medicus.’

  ‘I know it was him. And Rogatus over at the stables was helping him.’

  She was not going to argue about it now. ‘When you are feeling better you need to go to the baths,’ she said, smoothing his hair down. ‘Serena’s cousin wants us all to have dinner together, and I said they could use our dining room.’

  Sometimes there was no pleasing him. A few moments ago he had been worried about her. Now it seemed he could not even bring himself to speak to her. When the servant arrived with the wine he seized on it like a drowning man grasping for a rope.

  68

  Albanus had devised himself a programme of searching for Tilla for an hour and then returning to the mansio to see if there was news. He was hurrying up the steps to make his second check when he met Ruso and the object of his quest leaving him a message in the reception area.

  Tilla’s ‘There you are! You look even worse than the Medicus!’ did not go down well.

  ‘What my wife means,’ explained Ruso, ‘is that she’s sorry everyone’s been put to all this trouble because she failed to tell anyone that the guards who took her away from here were in fact taking her for a pleasant tour of the town.’

  Albanus blinked. ‘But sir, I thought –’

  ‘I know,’ said Ruso. ‘I’m on the way to try and explain to Camma.’

  Tilla said, ‘Explain what?’

  Albanus shook his head. ‘I’ve just come from there, sir. She isn’t at home. Grata can’t find her.’ He paused. ‘So now do you want me to look for her instead?’

  Ruso looked him up and down. ‘I think you’ve done enough running around today,’ he said. ‘Go and take yourself off to the baths for a clean-up. Apparently we’re all dining here tonight. I’ll see if I can find her.’

  Tilla said, ‘Did she take the baby with her?’

  ‘No.’ Albanus covered a yawn with one hand. ‘Grata is coping on her own.’

  ‘Then she cannot be far.’

  There was no sign of Camma in any of the shops around the Forum, and the women Tilla approached on the way out of the Great Hall had not seen her. Ruso left her to ask around while he went to the guards’ office. A man he did not recognize looked up from the desk and said, ‘Did you find your wife, sir?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ He wondered how many of
the guards knew what had been going on this afternoon. Doubtless all of them would have heard that he had attacked Dias in front of everyone in the Hall. ‘I’m looking for somebody else now. A different woman.’

  The man grinned. ‘Really, sir?’

  Ruso put his hands on the desk and leaned across. The man’s breath smelled of onions. ‘Really.’

  The grin faded. The man promised to put out a Missing Person Report immediately.

  A Missing Person Report. They even had a name for it. Whatever else Dias was, he was a good organizer.

  ‘Now where do we look?’ asked Tilla, rejoining him in the middle of the Forum just as a rich voice bellowed, ‘Investigator!’ He spun round to see Gallonius emerge from the Council chamber and head towards them with his arms spread wide as if he was trying to stop them escaping.

  ‘Investigator,’ he repeated, clapping Ruso on the arm. ‘Good to see you. I think it went rather well at the meeting, don’t you?’

  Ruso said, ‘Were you behind that game with my wife, or was it Dias’ idea?’

  ‘You mean our little offer of thanks, investigator?’ Gallonius gave him a conspiratorial wink. ‘Or should I call you doctor?’

  ‘Someone deliberately arranged it to look as though she was being arrested.’

  The smile faded. ‘Why didn’t you say something? Did anyone tell you that your wife was being threatened?’

  ‘Not exactly, but –’

  ‘I think you’ve been jumping to conclusions again.’ He looked from one to the other of them. ‘I’m sorry if you felt misled, but I hear the lady approves of the house, and we have to keep the ladies happy, don’t we? She’s welcome to stay here while you go down to report to the Procurator – that reminds me. If you would kindly explain to him that the forgers are dead, he’s welcome to send as many men as he likes to witness the destruction of the false coin.’

  Tilla began to say, ‘But they aren’t –’

  ‘Obviously,’ said Ruso, talking over her, ‘you won’t be asking him to write off the tax.’

  ‘No, no. We’ll find the money from other funds and send it down in a day or two. It will be a shame for the orphans, of course. Most of the maintenance work will have to wait, and it will be disappointing not to have the theatre under way by the time the Emperor gets here, but don’t worry. We will pay our dues.’

  ‘Never mind about the orphans and the Emperor,’ put in Tilla, who perhaps now understood the real reason for her escorted trip around town. ‘Where is Camma?’

  Gallonius scratched his head. ‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ he said, ‘I have no idea where your friend is. There’s no reason why I should know, is there?’

  Ruso sighed. ‘No,’ he said. ‘There isn’t. You don’t even need to shut her up now, do you?’

  Tilla watched the Magistrate walk away towards the Great Hall with his trail of slaves. ‘That man,’ she said, ‘is a liar.’

  ‘He’s a survivor,’ said Ruso. ‘We’ll try the house. Perhaps she’s come home.’

  They could tell before the door was open that Camma was not at home. Her son’s screeching complaints almost drowned out Grata’s shout of, ‘If you’ve come wanting money, piss off!’

  ‘It is me!’ called Tilla. ‘Let us in!’

  Grata wrenched open the door and thrust the baby into Tilla’s arms. ‘You try,’ she said, handing her the feeding pot with the spout. ‘These things are useless.’ She dabbed at the wet patches on her tunic with a cloth. I’m not paid to do this, you know.’

  As she turned to lead them through the house Ruso saw that the skin over her left cheekbone was flushed and swollen, as if someone had struck it.

  The kitchen air was thick with the smell of stew and soiled baby cloths. Tilla seated herself by the fire. Preoccupied with trying to calm the infant, she did not seem to have noticed the bruising on Grata’s cheek.

  Ruso said, ‘How long has she been gone?’

  Grata gave whatever was cooking a stir and banged the spoon on the side of the cauldron. ‘I don’t know.’ She had been working in the kitchen, trying to prepare a meal while Camma sat nursing the baby and weeping and saying she was all alone and nobody understood her.

  ‘Then the baby fell asleep,’ said Grata, ‘and I told her to go and get some rest.’ She glanced from Ruso to Tilla. ‘I need a rest too. This house is full of nothing but trouble and crying.’

  Tilla reached across to the table and balanced the pot so nothing would tip out of the spout. ‘He is not hungry,’ she said.

  ‘Then what’s he got to cry about?’

  Tilla shrugged. ‘Perhaps he wants his mother.’

  Ruso said, ‘I’ve alerted the guards to look for her.’

  Grata snorted. ‘You are asking Dias for help?’

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ said Ruso, ‘but his men are our best bet. I’ll carry on looking, but if she comes back in the meantime, tell her I’m truly sorry about what happened at the meeting. You both turned up at the wrong moment.’

  Tilla looked up from rocking the baby. ‘Camma heard what you said to the Council?’

  ‘He let the Council think everything was the fault of Asper and Nico,’ said Grata. ‘Nobody spoke the name of Dias, still there throwing his weight about.’

  He said, ‘I can explain.’

  ‘No need,’ said Grata. ‘I know how it happens. They have frightened you like they frightened me. And this is not all your fault.’ She scraped a stool across the floor and seated herself on the other side of the fire. ‘This afternoon I told Camma something I should have said a long time ago,’ she said. ‘But I thought …’ Her voice drifted into silence. Then she shook her head. ‘Anyway, I have been first a fool and then a coward. And now perhaps more of a fool for telling it, but I am weary of all the lies. And I keep thinking about what happened to Bericus.’

  Ruso and Tilla exchanged a glance. Tilla said, ‘What is this thing, sister?’

  ‘There was no message to meet Caratius at his house,’ said Grata. ‘Dias asked me to say it.’

  Ruso felt a lurch of disappointment. He had been hoping for something new: some unexpected revelation that would point the way out of this mess. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’d already guessed that.’

  ‘But Camma had not,’ said Tilla.

  Ruso said, ‘Does Dias know that you told her?’

  Grata lowered her head. ‘He was here just now,’ she said. ‘Pretending he wanted to make sure we were all right after the trouble at the meeting.’

  ‘And did he know you had told her the truth?’

  Grata sniffed. ‘I told him I was sick of him and I never wanted to see him again. And he said I had better keep my mouth shut because I would be in trouble if I didn’t, and I told him it was too late.’ She cupped one hand over the bruising. ‘That was when he hit me.’

  ‘I think she has gone to the cemetery,’ said Tilla. ‘She has gone to lift the curse on Caratius in the place where it was spoken.’

  Ruso said, ‘Dias’ men will have seen her go through the gate. If she’s there, he’ll know where to find her.’

  Tilla laid the baby back in his box and pulled the blanket up to his chin. ‘If he wakes again, try warming the water and putting a little honey in it.’

  ‘What if Dias comes back?’

  ‘Dias will be too busy chasing Camma,’ said Tilla.

  ‘Because of me? Because I told her there was no message?’

  ‘Because she might tell everyone who is behind all this,’ said Ruso, wishing he had done so himself. ‘I’ll go after her.’

  ‘We need horses,’ put in Tilla, plainly not intending to be left behind. ‘We can take Grata to the mansio on the way to the stables. She will be safe there.’

  ‘You are a sensible woman with a good heart,’ she assured Grata breathlessly as Ruso unlocked the street door to let her into the safety of Suite Three. ‘Keep this door blocked, because Dias may still have a key. If you have any trouble, run into the garden and shout for Doctor Valens and Serena. I
will be back as soon as I can, and when we find Camma I will tell her to give you extra pay.’

  69

  Afterwards, on bad days, Tilla would blame herself for the delay she had caused by insisting on taking Grata and the baby to safety. On those days, she would blame herself for everything. Sometimes the Medicus would tell her that they were both at fault, and at other times they would agree that Dias had been the cause of it all. The truth was that they would never know. All they could say with certainty was that if they had been a few minutes earlier, it might not have happened.

  If only Tilla had demanded a proper horse, instead of the fat little pony that the stable boy had insisted on leading across to the mounting block because he seemed to think a woman would not know how to get on without help. If only she had not distracted him by asking if he had never seen a woman in skirts hitch them up and ride astride before. If only it had not come on to rain in thick cold drops as they trotted through the town towards the south gates, and if only they had not had to shout for the men to come out of the guardhouse and confirm that yes, they had seen Camma hurrying past less than an hour ago.

  If only they had not wasted time riding through the cemetery and calling her name into the woods, with Tilla pushing windswept hair out of her eyes and shivering, wishing she had brought a cloak, while the horses’ hooves churned up the wet grass between the graves. If only there had been a funeral that afternoon, the cemetery slaves might not have smelled of beer as they wandered out of their hut to see what was going on. They might have remembered which way the wild-haired woman had gone after she had left.

  If only she had not paused to cut a switch to wake the fat pony because it refused to speed up even when the Medicus tried to lead it with his own horse, and if only he had not slowed so that he could keep her in sight …

  If none of these things had happened then Dias might not have already been on his way back from Caratius’ farm by the time they arrived, galloping headlong towards them on the track through the woods and reining his horse in as he saw the Medicus waving at him. Tilla was too far away to hear what they were saying to each other before Dias yanked the horse’s head around, and both men raced back towards the house. Even the fat pony seemed to understand, too late, that she needed to hurry.