NINE
This newcomer was perhaps
not quite as old as I am, but certainly he was no longer young. All
the same his presence filled the room. He was not simply hugely
tall, he was big and muscular, with a neck that was almost wider
than his head and massive thighs like the trunks of well-grown
trees. His arms were brawny and in one gigantic hand he held a
ridiculously dainty leather bag, which made his fingers look
enormous by comparison. His short-cropped head was rounder than an
earthen cooking pot and his face, which was baked to terracotta in
the sun, was weather-etched with lines. He wore big boots, a yellow
tunic and a heavy riding-cape. Modesta had said he was a horseman.
I found myself feeling a little sorry for the horse.
He looked around the atrium and acknowledged the
presence of our togas with a bow. ‘Greetings, citizens.’ He made
another vague obeisance towards all three of us, as if two of the
company were not marked out by patrician purple stripes. ‘Which of
you gentlemen is the master of the house?’ His eyes were small and
darting and I saw that he was missing several of his teeth. Not a
man I’d care to argue with.
Lavinius stepped forward, all cold authority. ‘I am
Lavinius, the paterfamilias of this household and the uncle of that
Audelia whom – it seems – you seek. She is not here, as I believe
you have already been informed. However, in her absence you may
speak to me. What is your business here?’
The rider’s tanned face split in an astonished
grin. He would have been ugly, even with the teeth, and the
crinkles of amusement creased his wrinkled face still more. ‘I
don’t think you can help me this time, citizen. I was sent to bring
her these. I don’t think they would fit you particularly well.’ He
opened the drawstring of the bag and brought out a pair of yellow
wedding shoes, which he dangled by the laces between one finger and
a thumb as though they had no weight.
I could see at once what Puella, the missing slave,
had meant. They were the most beautiful slippers I have ever seen,
the soft dyed leather cut into an intricate design of flowers and
butterflies. The colour was extremely delicate and the soles and
lacing so beautifully fine that the whole seemed worthy of an
empress or a queen. They had not been worn, so the donor who had
given them as an offering to the Vestal at the shrine must not only
have paid a handsome price for them but somehow contrived to have
them specially made to fit Audelia. No wonder the bride-to-be had
been keen to show them off.
It was clear to me by now who this intruder was.
‘So you are the mounted guard who escorted Audelia to Corninium?’ I
said at once, though it really was not my place to interview the
man. Publius looked at me, much as my slaves had looked at the
magician in the town, as if I had produced a ribbon from my
ear.
The horseman grinned. ‘All the way from the Vestal
temple, citizen. Escorting people is my trade these days. Retired
auxiliary cavalryman Ascus at your service, gentlemen.’
Lavinius coughed, to indicate that he was in
command. ‘Retired, but not a citizen? How did that come about? Did
you not get your citizen’s diploma when you left the
cavalry?’
Ascus shook his pot-shaped head. ‘Took a wound, and
had to leave the force before I’d served my term. Nineteen years,
instead of twenty-five. But I used my pay-out to obtain a horse –
as you can see – and when I had recovered, I made another life. So
here I am. Armed and ready to fend off robbers on the road.’ He
looped his other massive thumb and finger through his belt, pushing
the cloak back to reveal the cudgel at his side. ‘Of course I am
only a civilian now, so it is illegal for me to carry a sword or
dagger on the road. But a simple bludgeon is usually enough to
deter would-be thieves and attackers on the road.’
I could imagine that. If I were a bandit, that
cudgel – in his hands – would certainly have dissuaded me.
Lavinius though, was scowling at all this. ‘But not
this time, it seems. Do I understand that at Corinium you abandoned
my poor niece?’
The massive shoulders shrugged. ‘I am a hireling,
citizen. I do as I am told. She hired me in the first place and I
was at her command. She sent me back to get the shoes she’d left
behind – and I have done so, as you can see yourself. I told her it
was foolish to go on alone – not in so many words, you understand –
but she would not listen. She’s a determined lady, as no doubt you
know, and she wanted her slippers for her wedding day. Said that
the goddess Vesta would protect her; Vesta and that idiot of a
driver who brought Lavinia to the lodging house.’ He looked around.
‘Did she not tell you this? I thought I’d find her waiting and
impatient for her shoes, but I suppose she was weary and has
retired to rest. Not surprising really, jolting all that way in
such a springless cart. Still, she promised to reward me if I got
here before the feast, so one of the servants had better take these
up to her.’ He put the slippers back into the bag and held them
out.
No one moved to take them.
For the first time Ascus looked discomfited. ‘Well,
surely somebody should tell her that they have arrived? Not that
she’ll be specially impressed, I don’t expect, though I have ridden
like the hounds of Dis to get them here in time.’ He thrust the bag
towards Lavinius. ‘It wasn’t easy following her directions to this
place, either. Several times, I had to stop and ask the way.’
Lavinius snatched the leather bag and glared at
him. ‘So you haven’t heard what happened to my niece? When your
famous bludgeon was not there to help?’
The giant looked at him. The smile had vanished,
but the creases in the face deepened even more. ‘She had some
misfortune when I wasn’t there? She surely wasn’t set upon and
robbed?’ He struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘Dear
Mars! I knew it was stupid to let her go alone. They took her
jewels, I suppose? Great Jupiter, mightiest and best! She promised
me reward – a very handsome jet and garnet ring she had with her –
and now I suppose I won’t get paid at all.’
Publius got to his feet, impatiently. ‘Never mind
the jewels, my friend, the bride herself has gone – apparently
kidnapped from the raeda on the way. And her maidservant has
disappeared as well.’ He glared at Ascus, whose mouth had dropped
open in astonishment. ‘I wonder they didn’t tell you all this at
the gate.’
‘They wouldn’t tell me anything at all. I almost
had to force my way inside, before the gatekeeper would call the
slave and have her announce to you that I was here.’
The idea that the unhelpful gatekeeper had met his
match was enough to make me smile. Publius rounded on me
instantly.
‘You think that this is somehow comical?’
‘I was simply thinking, respected citizen,’ I said
quickly (I did not wish to lose the best support I had), ‘that the
arrival of this rider makes things easier. He is a guard by trade.
He can accompany us to Corinium and if we find no information there
tonight, tomorrow he can take us to where Audelia left the shoes.
I’m very anxious to ask questions of the household there.’
Lavinius frowned. ‘What point is there in
that?’
I had forgotten that he had not heard the full
story of the shoes. ‘I suspect the loss of the wedding shoes was no
mere accident – I believe that they were deliberately taken from
her box, precisely in order to divert the guard.’
Publius looked surprised. ‘I expect you’re right.
She had mentioned in a letter to her aunt that she had been given
wedding shoes. I wondered at her neglecting to take care of them.
If you don’t find Audelia by tomorrow, either at the stopping-place
or at the private lodgings in Corinium, of course you must go and
find this other house. And Ascus is the perfect man to take you
there. He has been there before, so he knows where it is – and he
will be known to them so they will let you in. And if you discover
anything, he can bring us word at once. A single horseman can even
ride by night, if he takes care.’
Ascus flashed a look of concentrated hate in my
direction. Not surprisingly, I thought. The man had been riding
since daybreak as it was, and was no doubt hoping for a well-earned
rest, but my intervention meant that he would now have to set off
again. Hardly a recipe for making friends. Yet I needed his
co-operation.
I tried to think of some way I could repair the
fault. ‘Revered Lavinius,’ I ventured, turning to my host who was
looking furious at this whole affair. ‘Would you consent to send
this horseman to the servants’ hall and have him given some
refreshment there?’
Publius applauded this at once. ‘He will be in want
of something, naturally – and a fresh horse as well if you can
spare it, Lavinius my friend. Ascus can retrieve his own mount when
he comes back here again. The creature that he came on will be
tired by now. It must have covered many miles today and speed is
essential if we hope to find my bride. The sun is in the west and
there is much to do. Lavinius, I’m sure you have something in your
stable that will serve.’
Another shrewd suggestion, I thought inwardly. That
would certainly ensure that Ascus did return and not simply vanish
when he had the chance. But Lavinius’s expression, which he
directed straight at me, was now as venomous as the rider’s glance
had been. He was clearly furious that he was asked to lend a horse.
But he gave a curt nod to his slave, ‘See to it, page.’
‘Instantly, master.’ The boy set off at once. He
was halfway to the door, when his owner called him back.
‘Not so quickly, you worthless son of a
washerwoman. Wait till I have finished speaking or I will have you
whipped. Take this horseman with you, and see that he is fed. And
find out what has happened to that idle steward, too.’
‘At once, master,’ the young unfortunate replied.
‘This way, horseman,’ and he led Ascus out.
Lavinius opened the leather bag again and took the
slippers out. ‘What should I do with these? Are they nefas –
accursed – do you think?’
Publius took them from him and murmured with a
smile, ‘But of course we must keep them till Audelia is returned.
And the pavement-maker here is going to rescue her. Is that not so,
Libertus?’
I gave a pallid smile. ‘I will do my best. But
there is one thing that rather troubles me. If Audelia has been
seized for ransom, why have we not heard? You would expect her
captors to send us their demands. But there has been no
word.’
‘If she was captured where the raeda stopped,’
Lavinius said, dismissively, turning back to the tray of dainties,
‘the kidnappers would scarcely have had time to contact us. They
may, indeed, have simply let her go, when they discovered who their
victim was. The penalties for laying hands upon a Vestal are so
terrible, they may have wished to wash their hands of it. In that
case, no doubt, she will come here soon enough.’ He picked out
another tasty morsel of the cheese and popped it fastidiously into
his mouth. ‘She is a woman of some determination in her way. It is
even possible she has refused to tell the bandits where to
send.’
I doubted this. Any kidnapper would have methods of
compelling her to speak, methods which I did not care to think
about.
But Publius was already saying, with a smile, ‘I
know that you still believe that this is an accident – mere chance
meeting with highway robbers on the road. But Libertus seems to
think that this was all a plan, and the kidnappers were well aware
of who she was. I trust that he is right. It would mean that they
expect that we will ransom her, in which case we can hope she’s
still alive.’ He turned to me. ‘Who do you suspect of planning
this?’ he asked.
‘The person I would like to talk to is her
maidservant,’ I hedged. ‘She was with the raeda when it got to the
gates, and only disappeared when it had stopped. Yet it’s by no
means certain that Audelia got that far. I’m quite convinced the
missing slippers were taken from the box, either by the maidservant
or by someone else. She could lead us to the truth, I am convinced
of that.’
Publius nodded. ‘If they knew about the slippers,
they knew she was to wed.’ He frowned. ‘Although it was never
publicly announced. It was to be a sensational surprise when I
announced our betrothal at the games. Your idea, I think,
Lavinius.’
I’d already wondered whose suggestion it had been.
But all I said was, ‘And it seems that someone also knew her route
and when she would be passing. Which suggests it must be somebody
she knows?’
Lavinius snorted in his cup, derisively. ‘Well, it
wasn’t one of us, if that is what you are trying to suggest.
Publius and I were at the birthday feast, and Cyra and the
house-slaves have been here all the time – and there are dozens of
witnesses to that.’
Publius paused in the act of sampling the wine. He
was looking troubled. ‘Besides, if it were a member of the family,
Audelia would recognize her captors, wouldn’t she? That would be no
use.’
I shook my head. ‘I am not sure that is true. Cyra
told me, when I first arrived, that she had not seen Audelia since
she was a child – and I expect the same is true of most of her
other relatives unless for some reason they visited the shrine. She
has been in seclusion at the hearth since she was young and Vestal
Virgins have no portraits made.’ I turned to Lavinius. ‘But if she
was kidnapped – and we can’t be sure she was – we must find
somebody who knew her face. You were her agent as I understand.
Have you, for instance, seen her recently?’
‘How dare you, citizen?’ Lavinius’s face was black
with rage. ‘I have been as tolerant as possible. But this whole
suggestion is preposterous. Am I to be questioned by a mere
mosaicist?’
I stood my ground. ‘Respected citizen, I was not
accusing you. I simply need a description of Audelia.’ I said it
meekly, but I enjoyed the chance to add, ‘How else am I going to
look for her?’
‘He is right again you know, Lavinius.’ Publius
motioned to the slave to pass the grapes and cheese. He took a
handful. ‘And I can’t help him. I’ve never seen the bride.’
Lavinius looked from Publius to me and back again.
‘Oh, very well,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ll tell you what I know, but it’s
not very much. I’ve only met her once. She is of slightly more than
middling height and fairly slim – as to more than that, I really
cannot say. Her face was half-covered with a Vestal veil, of
course, since she was not acting as a priestess at the time and was
in public in the presence of a male, though I have the impression
that her hair was fair.’
‘But you have met her? Was that recently?’
‘I have been in constant touch with her, of course,
but in fact we only met a moon or so ago. I went to Londinium on
private business and saw her – with a chaperone – to discuss
affairs, mostly with regard to her retirement from the hearth. Of
course, men aren’t permitted right inside the shrine, we had to
make arrangements to meet outside in the court. But I’d recognize
her voice, and I’m sure that she’d know me.’ He downed his wine as
if he wished to swallow me, as well. ‘I can’t accept your theory,
that this was deliberate. There were rebels in the woods a moon or
two ago, and they take random hostages to build their coffers up.
There is your solution, if I am any judge. Besides, Audelia stayed
only with relatives and friends throughout her journey from the
shrine. You surely don’t suggest that one of us – her family – has
kidnapped her for gain?’ He took another cube of cheese and bit it
thoughtfully. ‘We would be the ones to pay the ransom fee! Not even
you would think that we extort things from ourselves?’
It was clear that the cheeseboard was not going to
come to me, though I was hungry now. I’d had nothing but a sour
grape or two and a tiny portion of sacrificial beef since I left
home at dawn. I began to wish I’d gone with Ascus to the
slave-quarters. I got stiffly to my feet.
‘Lavinius, I am trying to assist. Not all members
of your family are as rich as you. I understand that there are poor
relations elsewhere in Britannia who were not invited to the
wedding feast. They might be happy to extort a price. Not
personally, of course. A man may plot a crime and arrange for
someone else to carry out the deed. And as to demanding money from
yourselves – did I not hear Publius say that he was prepared to
offer a reward or pay a ransom for Audelia’s safe return? That’s
not family money.’
Publius surprised me. ‘But I’d pay it, willingly. I
have experienced this sort of thing before. My second wife in Rome
was captured on the road – I had sent her to my country villa to
escape the plague – and, you may be interested to know, it was a
full day before they got in touch. I think they wished me to be so
desperate that I would instantly comply with their demands.’
‘And did you?’ I was still more thoughtful now. If
Publius was known to have paid a ransom once
before . . .
Publius laughed. ‘In a sense, I did. I used
Egyptian gold to pay them – it can be exchanged in any marketplace
of course – but I took care to mark the coins. I alerted the
coin-inspectors for several miles around, and when the culprits
tried to use the money, they were caught. I had them crucified.
Scarcely an encouragement to a repeat attempt, if that is what you
are thinking, citizen.’
That was, of course, exactly what I’d thought. I
was about to answer when the page returned, with a flustered
steward hurrying after him.
‘Master,’ the chief slave said, bowing low before
his owner and ignoring us. ‘The gig is now prepared and the chains
have been struck off the raeda-driver’s legs, though I have left
his hands in bonds. If this citizen –’ he nodded in my direction –
‘is ready, they can leave at once.’
Publius was already on his feet. ‘Then if you can
provide me with a wax tablet, Lavinius my friend, I will write the
letter that I promised straight away. Fiscus will bring it out to
you when you are in the gig.’
‘In the meantime,’ I said pointedly, ‘I will find
Ascus and tell him that we’re ready to depart – perhaps Modesta
could accompany me, since Fiscus has another job to do, and maybe
she can find me a piece of bread as well.’
Lavinius seemed likely to protest at this but
Publius seized me warmly by the arm. ‘Let it be as you suggest.
Then go, Libertus, go – and may Jove go with you. Good luck in your
quest. Send me a message if there’s anything further I can do to
help.’
I nodded thankfully and bowed myself away, together
with Modesta who looked thrilled to be my choice. Lavinius made no
objection, but he had turned quite puce. He looked so angry at
Publius taking charge, and so frustrated at being overruled, that I
could almost have believed he was about to burst.
It did not augur well for the festivities tonight.
I did not envy Marcus and the others in the least, and was actually
glad to leave the room.