A Coin for the Ferryman (26 page)

Junio made a face. ‘He won’t be very pleased. A gatekeeper like Aulus is expensive to replace. And just when the family’s about to go abroad and leave the villa without an occupant!’ He meant ‘no occupant apart from slaves’, of course, but the principle was sound. A house where the owner is away for months is obviously a tempting target for opportunist thieves. And there were those rumours of the rebels in the wood. A good guard is a vital deterrent at such times.

Aulus was especially valuable, I thought, because not only was he intimidatingly large, but he was also so useful as a spy. I glanced at the current stand-in, who looked half Aulus’s size and was taking no interest in Junio and me. Any owner would be inconvenienced by losing an effective gatekeeper but I suspected that Marcus would feel genuine regret.

‘I will go directly to the atrium and break the news,’ I said. ‘You can give the message to Stygius if you will.’ I could see Niveus hovering anxiously nearly, like a puppy dog waiting to be thrown a stick. Clearly he’d hoped that I’d trust him with that task. ‘I will have to cleanse myself, yet again, of course! Niveus, you can come into the ante-room and hand the towel for me. I presume that Colaphus is not on duty there, since I understand he’s gone down to the roundhouse seeking me.’ I turned to Junio. ‘Are you coming with us through the house?’

Junio shook his head. ‘I will go round the other way. I’m not sure that Stygius will be in the rear court now – he may have gone back to the fields again to supervise the slaves, and if so there’s a chance that I shall see him on the way. But I’ll make sure I find him, wherever he may be, and see that he gets the message and sends the party out at once. Shall I meet you in the villa afterwards, or will you have gone home?’ He grinned. ‘I know my mother hopes that you will change your tunic for tonight, and give Maximus a chance to sponge your toga-hems.’

I looked down at my garments, suddenly aware of the disastrous effect that my day’s adventures had had on my attire. I sighed. ‘Look for me in the villa,’ I said. ‘I expect I’ll be some time. Someone will have to arrange for Aulus’s funeral, and with Marcus’s bereavement he won’t do that himself. You’d better mention it to Stygius as well. The land slaves will have to get busy with the pyre, if they are to get it properly rebuilt. Yet another corpse to dispose of before the spirits walk.’

‘I’ll be as prompt as possible,’ my son replied.

I watched him disappearing down the farm track to the back. Morella’s mother was still staring at us from across the lane, so I went over and explained to her what the arrangements were, and then at last I went in through the gate and crossed the courtyard to the house, with little Niveus padding at my heels.

‘I gave that message to your servant, citizen,’ he announced proudly, as if to reproach me for not trusting him with messages again. ‘He’s gone to Glevum now. The master put him on the fastest horse. Wanted him to catch those entertainers up and see if they could provide an interlude tonight. Pity that Marcus let them go at all. They only left when he came back from Glevum – I suppose they were waiting to be paid.’ He stood back to let me precede him to the door and let me in.

‘Entertainers?’

He nodded. ‘The ones who were performing at the banquet yesterday. You remember that some of them stayed here overnight. In the stable with the extra sleeping space – where Colaphus has a bed. If there are entertainers overnight, they’re always put in there.’

I hadn’t known that, but I nodded anyway. ‘The athletes? And the dwarves? For a funeral feast?’

He grinned. ‘That’s just what Lucius said! But the mistress thought the athletes might be able to devise a stately dance or something, which would be appropriate. And the chief dwarf claims he can write a poem for any circumstance – it’s one of the things he sometimes offers as an act, though Marcus did not have him do it yesterday.’

I snorted. ‘I doubt that writing tribute eulogies is what he meant.’

‘It’s not the sort of thing that any of them is usually called upon to do, but, as the mistress pointed out, it’s impossible to find anyone else at such short notice, anyway. Of course, there is always Atalanta and her lyre.’ He pushed open the door of the little ante-room and stood by while I performed the ritual with the water and the ash. There was a pile of towels still sitting on the stool and he fetched me one and waited while I dried my hands and face.

‘Shall I announce you in the atrium?’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll see myself in. You wait here for me.’

The atmosphere in the room was noticeably tense when I walked in. Gwellia was there, with Marcus and his wife: and there too was Lucius, standing on his own and looking grim and imperious – though his tunic was now trimmed with dark-coloured mourning bands, instead of his patrician purple stripes. I was ready immediately to burst out with my news, but a warning glance from Marcus prevented me.

Of course this was a house of mourning and it was necessary to observe the proper protocol, especially since Lucius was there to disapprove. I made my due obseisance: first to the statue, then to the living men. Marcus accepted my homage with a benevolent, vague nod, while Lucius looked even more disdainful than before. Only Julia had the grace to smile.

‘You have news for us, citizen?’ she enquired, as soon as I had scrambled to my feet again. ‘Your wife informs me that there was an unpleasant man offering to give you information at the gate. In the light of recent happenings we were quite alarmed for you. Weren’t we, Gwellia?’

By appealing directly to my dear wife in that way our hostess was inviting her to speak, which might otherwise have been inappropriate for a female visitor of no especial rank, in such circumstances and in such company.

Gwellia was quick to seize the opportunity. ‘I do not know that the man was offering to
give
him information, Lady Julia. More likely to demand payment, from what I saw of him.’ That was my Gwellia, I thought. A tactful hint to my patron that I might need recompense! ‘I have explained to Marcus who the people were – that their daughter was probably the owner of the corpse’s dress, and that it seems she had run away,’ she said to me, and then she turned back to Julia again. ‘But if that was her father, then I am not surprised. Even his wife seemed quite afraid of him. So when he insisted on speaking to Libertus on his own I was a bit worried about what he had to say and whether he was going to set his awful dog on him.’ She gave me her special look, as if to remind me that she had more to tell, at some time when we found ourselves alone.

I flashed a smile in acknowledgement and turned back to my host. ‘He did give me information of a kind,’ I said. ‘He claims the girl had robbed him of the coins that we discovered in her dress. I think he was hoping I could arrange to give them back, but until I have more proof I did not promise to do anything at all. But I do bring other news – much more immediate and serious, I fear. I have found Aulus.’

‘Aulus! Where is he? What has he to say? Bring him to me instantly. What are we waiting for?’ Marcus was annoyed. Almost without seeming to be aware of it, he had pulled a piece of ferny branch from one of the floral offerings round his father’s neck, and was tapping it impatiently against his other hand, as though it were his magisterial baton. This was a habit I’d often seen before: it augured no good to those who crossed him in this mood. I felt actually uneasy when he turned to me and scowled. ‘Where did you find the wretch?’

‘He was in the forest,’ I answered the simple question first. ‘I have taken the liberty of sending some of your land slaves out to bring him home again. I’ve sent Junio to make the arrangements for it now.’

‘Why in the name of Jupiter do the land slaves—’ Marcus began hotly, then seemed to realise that something was amiss. His manner changed. He looked into my face. ‘You don’t mean that something has befallen him? Not Aulus, surely? He’s too big to be attacked.’

I said nothing. It was more than eloquent.

‘Are you telling us that the fellow’s dead?’ Lucius rapped out the question, like an officer giving the order to throw spears. The answer must have been written on my face, because before I could summon a reply he turned his back on me. ‘I can’t believe it, cousin. There must be some mistake. He was perfectly well when I last spoke to him. What can possibly have happened to him since?’ He shook his head. ‘If this is true, I have to suspect a supernatural hand. This is another omen, as surely as Jove makes thunderbolts. I don’t know what my aunt Honoria will say.’

Marcus held up a hand to silence him. ‘My mother is unlikely to find out,’ he said, with the kind of resolute finality he did not often show in the company of his visitor from Rome. ‘Not until I get there, anyway. Unless, of course, cousin, you propose to write to her? Which, given her bereavement, I suggest you do not do. No need to cause her added anxiety, I think.’

It was as near a prohibition as it could politely be. Lucius looked affronted, and said in strangled tones, ‘She is your mother, cousin. You must do as you see fit. She is under your official tutelage and protection now.’

Marcus smiled bleakly. ‘Exactly. Just as this household is.’

It was a reminder of who was master of the house, but Lucius was not so easily subdued. ‘So you will want to make immediate arrangements to cremate your slave. Fortunately we already have the funeral herbs and the pyre is barely cool. I left the priest of Jupiter in the new wing of the house – he asked to have a rest after his ritual exertions and his visit to the bath-house afterwards – and he will advise us as to how we should proceed. It is fortunate that he has not left the premises – I assume that he has been invited to join us for the feast.’

‘Then you assume correctly,’ Marcus snapped, ‘in that regard at least. But whatever customs may prevail in Rome, in Britannia we do not shuffle a faithful gatekeeper on to a funeral fire without a proper ceremony as tribute to his soul. Nor without attempting to discover how he came to die.’ He turned to me. ‘Libertus, old friend, you say you found his corpse. Have you any idea what might have brought about his death? Dragged away by brigands or attacked by bears? Or is this another of those unfortunate affairs with mutilated features and a choke-mark round the neck?’

I shook my head. ‘None of those things, Excellence. I believe that he was poisoned.’

‘Poisoned!’ The cousins spoke together, though their tones were quite distinct. Marcus sounded horrified, and Lucius full of scorn.

‘How could he possibly be poisoned?’ Marcus said. ‘He eats the food and drink that all the servants do.’

There was a little silence. Julia had turned pale, and Gwellia was looking at me with a glance that said ‘I told you this affair was dangerous’ more forcefully than if she’d voiced the words aloud.

‘Of course, there was the messenger who came from Rome,’ I said. ‘I suppose it is possible that something changed hands at the gate.’ I was not convinced by this theory, but everyone had been looking expectantly at me and I felt that some intelligent suggestion was required.

Lucius gave a bleak grimace that might have been a smile. ‘I suppose that’s possible.’

I was encouraged by this unexpected praise. ‘But who in Rome would want to poison Aulus? He wasn’t known to anybody outside Britannia. Unless there was an effort to bring poison to the house, which Aulus managed to take by accident.’

The smiled had faded, and Lucius looked dour. ‘Of course, you’re right. It is preposterous. More likely the gatekeeper strayed into the woods, and was bitten by a snake or something of the kind. I understand you have vipers in the forest hereabouts? I remember it was spoken of the other night.’

‘Would that make him stagger and vomit?’ I enquired. ‘It looked more as if he’d swallowed something poisonous to me, but I have never seen a person bitten by a snake. Certainly there have been vipers in the wood from time to time, but in that case I would have expected to see swelling in his legs.’ Yet even as I spoke, I realised that I might not have noticed fang marks among those streaks of blood.

My wife stepped forward. It was brave. She had not been invited to contribute anything. ‘Your pardon, Excellences, but I doubt it was a snake. For one thing it is not the time of year. And for another, Aulus is so big. It would have taken quite a lot of venom to have killed him with such speed – our snakes are not like those of other lands which will kill a full-grown man so quickly that he has no time to go for help or suck the venom out. A child, or someone old and frail perhaps, but hardly a strapping brute like Aulus. What do you think, husband? Is it possible?’

‘I think that you convince me that it isn’t, wife,’ I said. I was impressed by her clarity of thought, but it was evident that Lucius was not. His look of pained disdain would have shrivelled the marble statue beside him on the plinth, let alone the shrinking woman he was glaring at.

‘You are an expert on these things?’ he asked, in icy tones. ‘Perhaps you would care to view the corpse and give us the benefit of your experience? Enlighten us as to what the poison was?’ He turned to Marcus. ‘It seems that in Britannia, cousin, one must learn to take instruction from the most unlikely sources. Freedmen, slaves and women seem free to interrupt the conversation of patricians and – without being asked – offer their opinions about anything at all. This pavement-maker even has the impudence, it seems, calmly to issue instructions to your slaves and tell you afterwards. I assure you, you will find that manners are quite different in Rome.’

There was a stunned silence. Gwellia looked abashed. Marcus was visibly furious but, like me, he held his tongue. Even the attendant slaves against the wall were exchanging little glances. In the end it was Julia who spoke.

‘In Britannia, cousin, when we delegate a task, we do not expect to be constantly consulted as to how it should be done. My husband asked Libertus to investigate a death, and I believe that he is doing that, as usual. I can’t think that Aulus’s poisoning is coincidence. He has served this household without incident for years, and all at once we find that he is dead. It occurs to me to wonder what is different, suddenly?’