Dark Omens (3 page)

Genialis gave another of his unpleasant smiles. ‘Take it or leave it, citizen. That is the contract I am offering. Until the Ides to get the pavement changed and earn the basic fee. If you do not finish it in time, I do not pay at all. Do it before the Agonalia and I pay you twice as much. If you are willing, come out to the street – I have a pair of other citizens ready and waiting to witness the affair. If not, I will look for someone else.’

‘There is hardly time for anyone to take a pavement up, make good the foundation and lay another in its place!’ I retorted, rather piqued in my professional pride.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Laying pavements is your business, citizen, and I would not presume to offer you advice. But I don’t see why you need to take up what is there. The current pavement is well-laid and absolutely flat – thanks to your own excellent craftsmanship, I understand. Could you not simply lay the other one on top?’

Of course it is common practice, where the base is good enough. ‘But the lady Silvia?’ I protested. ‘Will she not feel the curse has not been moved?’

He looked pityingly at me. ‘And who will tell her? She will not be there – I propose to take her back to Dorn with me today. I am selling all her slaves and replacing them with mine – leaving just a guardian doorkeeper, while we are away. I shall most certainly not mention her anxiety to him and you won’t either, if you have any sense. All he needs to know is that you’re coming in to work and do not wish to be disturbed. Tomorrow, if you are minded to begin. Now do you accept the terms or not? Otherwise, as I said before, I’ll find someone who will. And I warn you, I am not a man who easily forgives people who thwart him. Make up your mind. I cannot linger here – the carriage will be waiting with Silvia at the city gates. I want her under my protection until our wedding day and we must set off very soon for Dorn. It will be two days’ journey at the best, and – as I say – it is already promising to snow. Fortunately it is a military road and the army doubtless will be sending out fatigues to keep it clear.’

So he was making sure that his bride could not escape. And nor could I. The promise of a mystery, and such a fee as well! I looked at Junio and he raised his brows at me. I turned to Genialis.

‘Then I accept the contract. Lead me to your witnesses,’ I said.

G
enialis was right about the snow, as I saw when I went out into the street. The sky, which had been merely overcast when we came into town, had turned to leaden grey and as I shook hands with my customer, and we exchanged the legal formula in front of the pair of worthy citizens whom he had brought – and doubtless paid – to act as witnesses, I saw the first flakes start to settle on the rooftops opposite.

One of the men, Alfredus Allius, a minor official on the council whom I slightly recognized, was clearly anxious to be safe at home. ‘This weather is coming from the south,’ he said. ‘If you hurry, Genialis, you might beat it yet – and I can get home with my toga dry.’

The other – stouter – councillor agreed. ‘My villa is a dozen miles away.’ He turned to Genialis. ‘I’m not going there myself this afternoon – but of course, citizen, it lies upon your way and you and your lady are welcome to my hospitality if you should find the road to Dorn is blocked. I’ll send my slave boy with you, to explain that to the house.’

Genialis acknowledged this as no more than his right. ‘Thank you, Bernadus. Though I hope it will not come to that. Adonisius! Have you got the traveller’s offering for the altar in the arch?’

A handsome muscled youth with olive skin detached himself from the group of waiting servants lounging by the wall, looked at his master with sullen almond eyes and mutely showed the votive biscuits in his hand.

Bernadus said, ‘Then you can be on your way. As I say, treat my villa as your own. My slave will show your driver where it is. I shall ride out there myself within a day or two, if the roads permit. But you will be lucky to get that far this evening with a cart if you do not make haste.’ And he hustled my visitor away.

I glanced towards the sky. The councillor was right! This snow was coming quickly, and from the south as well – the very direction where my round-house lay. I ought to think of closing up and setting off before it was too late.

I was about to turn into the house when someone called my name. It was another Kalends well-wisher (this time the steward of a frequent customer) and there was a dusting of white flakes upon his cloak. He was bearing coins and figs. I could not in politeness refuse to let him in but I rushed through the civilities as fast as courtesy allowed, inwardly fretting because the man was garrulous and always wanted to pass on all the gossip of the town.

I had a sudden inspiration. ‘I’ve just won a contract at Ulpius’s house – putting in new pavement for his lady wife. The old one apparently reminds her of her loss. Poor fellow, did I understand he drowned?’ I winked at Junio.

The steward sipped the remnants of his New Year wine. He shook his head. ‘Most unfortunate. They say that the ship had just set off for Gaul, and he went to see the helmsman as he always did – but lost his footing and fell overboard. The rumour is he’d had too much to drink, but I don’t know if that’s the truth of it. Tell you who might know more about it – that’s the man next door. I understand that Ulpius had a cargo of his skins.’

I nodded. My workshop was between the candle-maker’s and a tannery. ‘It’s rather difficult for me to ask him anything,’ I hinted, cautiously. ‘I had an altercation with the tanner’s wife over an old slave she lost a year or so ago – she’s always thought I was responsible for that.’

He put down the cup and rose slowly to his feet. ‘Well, I can hardly call there – I’m on my master’s business and he’s never had dealings with the man. However, I’m to tell you he’d be glad if you would call. Something about a new mosaic for the atrium.’

I thanked him heartily and showed him out, but the moment he was through the door again we hurried round the workshop putting things away.

‘I’m already wishing that I hadn’t taken on this work for Genialis,’ I grumbled to Junio as we tied thick rags around our feet and wrapped our bodies in our warmest cloaks, ready for the long trudge back to our respective round-houses and wives. ‘Though if that ship was really setting off for Gaul, it doesn’t seem possible that Genialis was involved – he could not have been on it when it left the dock. But I wish I hadn’t taken on this contract all the same, though I suppose we’re stuck with it. In this weather it will be hard for us to come and go to town, and if we don’t complete it we shall not be paid at all. Besides, if there is no one living in Ulpius’s house it will be cold and damp, and then – no doubt – the mortar will not set.’

Junio stood up and pulled his cloak-hood round his ears. ‘Perhaps I should not have been so eager to talk you into it,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘But I did think that we could help the lady if we took the work. Moreover, I didn’t want that lovely pavement to be utterly destroyed and replaced by something second-rate. I hoped we could have lifted some of it intact and used it somewhere else – though I realize that it won’t be possible, in the short time we’ve got.’

‘It will be shorter still if we get snowed in on the road.’ I got to my feet and gestured to the slaves. ‘So, if you two are ready, we can start for home.’

Minimus leapt up and scurried to the outer door. But when he opened it, he stopped, appalled. ‘Great Janus! Look at that!’

I was already looking, in horror and surprise, though there wasn’t much to see. Even the little shops across the lane were hardly visible. The air between was thick with swirling flakes and a deepening white carpet covered everything.

Minimus looked doubtfully at me. ‘What do you think, master?’

I shook my head. ‘We can’t go home today!’

‘Thank Mercury!’ The boy looked quite relieved. ‘I hate the forest at this time of the year. I am afraid of wolves.’

I understood his feelings. Walking the ancient unfrequented woodland track was treacherous in winter, anyway – rain always turned it slippery with mud – but cold increased the danger of marauding animals, driven by hunger nearer to the towns. To go that way in this would be inviting accidents.

‘We’ll simply have to sleep here overnight,’ I said. ‘If this has gone tomorrow, we will try to go home then. Though it looks as if we might be stuck here for a day or two.’ I glanced at Junio. ‘We might make a start on that pavement, I suppose. I must say I feel rather sorry for our wives.’

He nodded. ‘They’ll obviously be worried, because they won’t know where we are. But there’s no help for it. There’s no way of sending word. And they would not want us to set off in this. We’ll just have to stay here until the weather clears.’

Maximus – who, despite his name was the smaller of my slaves – edged up to me and cleared his throat, as a signal that he wished to speak. I did not insist on such formality, but after the recent pranks at Saturnalia – when slaves and owners change roles for a day – he was being specially careful to show me due respect.

I nodded my permission. ‘What is it, Maximus?’

‘I’m sorry, master, but I’m a bit concerned. I don’t know how we’re going to make a fire. We’ve just thrown water on the embers to make sure that they were out and there isn’t any flint or tinder left. And there won’t be anything to eat, unless we go out to the thermopolium. We’ve finished all the bread and cheese we brought, and there are no pie-sellers likely to be out in this.’ He shook his head. ‘Even the hot-soup stalls are likely to be closed. No one who can help it will go out on the streets – one slip and you could break an arm or leg and end up maimed for life.’

‘He’s right,’ my son agreed. ‘Though perhaps it’s no great loss. The stuff they sell is disgusting anyway: turnips and nasty bits of bone and hoof.’ He looked enquiringly at me. ‘But if they are open, it would at least be warm – if you think the chance of that is worth a struggle through the snow. The workshop will be very cold without a fire.’ He brightened. ‘Although I see there’s wood and kindling on the pile. I’ve seen that servant, Brianus, that you gave to me last year, using a sort of bow and string to bore into a stick and make a flame. I’ve watched him do it – I could try my hand at that.’

I grinned. ‘I’ve thought of a better strategy,’ I said. ‘Let’s pay a New Year’s visit to the tanner after all. He keeps a furnace burning all the time, brewing up the cutch to tan the skins – I’m sure he could be persuaded to let us have some fire, if only in honour of the day.’

Junio laughed, though rather doubtfully. ‘Father, are you sure? His wife has not forgiven you for costing her that slave.’

I grinned. ‘And isn’t this the day for healing rifts?’ I asked. ‘In any case, we’ve much to gain and nothing much to lose. So let’s untie these ugly rags from round our feet and try to look like the Roman citizens we are. We’ll make a formal visit, with the slaves escorting us – that way I’m sure the man will let us in and Minimus and Maximus will be admitted too, to wait where it is warm. Just bring those sugared figs the steward brought to us and keep a Kalends smile fixed on your face.’

So away we trooped to knock upon the gate. The tanner himself came grumbling out to open it, holding a lighted taper to peer into the snow. But when he realized who it was, his manner changed at once. Perhaps it was the togas, but we were welcomed in at once, and plied with heated wine. Even the hard-faced wife contrived a smile, though she left us men to it and went back to her tasks.

I managed to bring the talk around to Ulpius, but the tanner had no real information to impart – except that he was not inclined to blame the wine. ‘Ulpius was never one to drink too much, especially at sea. More likely it was just the movement of the deck. The weather in autumn can be terrible. And it wouldn’t have been carelessness; he knew the job too well. Freak accident, that’s all. The ship turned back of course, but it was far too late, and Ulpius had disappeared beneath the waves. They thought the body might be washed up in the end – so it could be given proper burial – but it never did. Eaten by the fishes I suppose. But the trading has gone on – they sold all my skins, and I’ve been paid for them. Ulpius’s junior partner saw to that.’

‘There is a partner?’ I hadn’t heard of this.

‘Oh, indeed. A pleasant man, though not a citizen. Started life as a freeman-forester and dealt with Ulpius over timber and the like, but he always had a natural aptitude for trade, and Ulpius took him on. Lucius proved to have a splendid eye for general goods, and they formed a partnership. Now, of course, he’s running things alone. I got this wine from him, for instance. It is very good. Can I offer you another drink of it?’

A half-hour later, when we went back to the shop – fighting our way now through a rising blizzard on the street – we brought away not only a hearty New Year gift of honey cake, but a heap of hot embers burning in a pail.

The two young slave boys set to with a will and soon had a cheerful blaze alight again and a couple of tapers burning to give a welcome light – the afternoon was dark though it was not long past midday. With the warmth, however, I felt my spirits lift. We had a pan, and my favourite spiced mead that we could heat in it, and now we had the honey cake to ward off hunger pangs, so with our cloaks to sleep on we would do well enough – at least until the morning when the street-hawkers began and we could purchase bread and milk again.

I looked at Junio. ‘Well, it seems that after all there is no mystery to solve, but shall we have a quick look through those patterns while we’re waiting here, and try to find something suitable for that entrance hall? I can’t recall exactly the dimensions we require, but we could estimate within a hand’s breadth either way.’

Junio nodded. ‘Best err on the slightly smaller side,’ he said. ‘Then it would be easy to fit a border round.’ He picked up a lighted taper. ‘Let’s go and have a look.’

The half-dozen premade ‘patterns’ which I kept to advertise my skills were versions of my most popular designs, stuck to a linen backing and placed on wooden boards, so they could be moved intact and shown to customers. Most clients used them simply as a guide and ordered something individual – but it was possible to install the samples exactly as they were.