Gordianus The Finder Omnibus (Books 1-4) (29 page)

‘Then he looked straight at Capito, understanding that he had come into at least some of the confiscated property, and asked him if he would agree to such justice, even at his own expense. And Capito nodded and smiled as innocently as a child, and declared he had only the spirit of Roman law at heart, and if it could be proved that his late cousin had in fact not been an enemy of the state and of the beloved Sulla, he would gladly restore his share of the estate to the rightful heir, not even charging for the improvements he had made. And that night we celebrated with wine and a roast lamb at our tavern at Volaterrae and slept well, and in the morning we returned to Ameria and went our separate ways.’

‘What happened then?’

‘Nothing. Sulla and his army finished their business at Volaterrae and returned to Rome.’

‘There was no word from Chrysogonus?’

‘None.’ Titus shrugged guiltily. ‘You know how it is, how you let such things languish – I’m a farmer, not a politician. I finally drafted a letter in December, and another in February. No answer. Perhaps something would have been done if Sextus Roscius himself had kept after it, but he was more secluded than ever. He and his family stayed in their little house on the estate and no one heard a word from them, as if they were prisoners, or as if Capito had made them his slaves. Well, if a man won’t stand up for himself, he can’t expect his neighbours to drag him to his feet.’

‘How long did this go on?’

‘Until April. That was when something must have happened between Capito and Sextus. In the middle of the night Sextus showed up at my doorstep with his wife and his two daughters. They were riding in a common ox cart, carrying their goods in their arms with not even a slave to drive. He asked me to take him in for the night, and of course I did. They stayed for four or five nights, I can’t remember—’

‘Three,’ said a quiet voice. It was the boy Lucius, whose presence I had almost forgotten. He sat against the corner of the low wall with his knees pulled to his chest. He was faintly smiling, the same way he had smiled at the mention of Roscius’s daughter when I met him earlier that day.

‘Well, then, three,’ said Titus. ‘I suppose it seemed longer. Sextus Roscius brought his gloom with him. My wife kept complaining he would bring ill luck. And of course, that young Roscia . . .’ he began, lowering his voice. ‘His elder daughter. Not exactly the best moral influence to bring into a home with young men.’ He glanced at Lucius, who looked up at the moon with a convincing imitation of deafness.

‘Then he left for Rome, telling me his father had had a patroness there who might have some influence with Sulla. No mention of a trial for murder. I assumed he’d got desperate enough to go and petition this Chrysogonus for himself.’

‘I don’t suppose it would surprise you to learn that Chrysogonus himself benefited from the carving up of Sextus Roscius’s estates.’

‘Well, isn’t that a dirty piece of business. And how do you know that?’

‘A slave named Carus told me this afternoon. He answers the door at Capito’s villa.’

‘Then the three of them were in it from the beginning – Capito, Magnus, and Chrysogonus.’

‘So it appears. Who but Chrysogonus could have illegally entered Sextus
pater
into the already closed proscription lists? Who wanted the old man dead, except Capito and Magnus?’

‘Well, there you have it. It was those three who plotted the murder of old Sextus Roscius, conspiring all along to have him added to the proscription lists and then buy up the land after the state confiscated it. And any outsider who might try to clear the matter up comes face to face with Chrysogonus, which is like having your nose to a brick wall. What a business, even dirtier than I thought. But now this, to blame Sextus Roscius for his father’s murder – surely they’ve gone too far even for a close friend of Sulla. It’s absurd, unspeakably cruel!’

I looked up at the moon. It was already fat and white; in six days it would be full for the Ides, and Sextus Roscius would meet his fate. I lazily turned my head and peered through heavy lids at the yellow window shining from Capito’s villa. Why were they still awake? Surely Magnus and Glaucia were as tired from their day of riding as I was. What were they plotting now?

‘Even so,’ I said, losing the words in a yawn, ‘even so, there’s still some part that’s missing from the puzzle. Something that keeps it all from making sense. Even dirtier than you thought. . . .’

I looked at the yellow window. I shut my eyes for just an instant, and didn’t open them again for many hours.

XIX

I woke with a blink to find myself alone in a dark room choked with heat. My mouth was dry, but I felt amazingly refreshed. I had slept without dreams. I lay on my back, and for a long moment was content simply to be still and sense the flow of life in my arms, legs, fingers, toes. Then I stirred, and realized there was a stiff penalty to pay for having ridden so hard the day before. I managed to sit up and swing my aching legs onto the floor. I was amazed again at how refreshed I felt, considering that I was waking while the world was still dark, until I glimpsed an odd flickering at the edge of the drapery that hung over the window, like a glint of white steel lit from nowhere amid the blackness. I pushed myself up from the divan and staggered stiffly to the window. I pushed the curtain aside and was consumed by hot, blinding light.

At the same instant the door to the tiny room creaked open and Lucius stuck his head inside. ‘Finally,’ he said, using the exasperated tone with which children mimic their parents. ‘I tried to wake you twice before, but I couldn’t even make you groan. Everyone else has been up for hours.’

‘How late is it?’

‘Exactly noon. That’s why I came to see if you were up yet, because I just got back from town and noticed the sundial in the garden, and I wondered if you could still be asleep.’

I looked about the room. ‘But how did I get here? And who undressed me?’ I stooped, groaning, to pick up my tunic, which had slid from the arm of a chair onto the floor.

‘Father and I carried you down here from the roof last night. You don’t remember? You were like a sack of bricks, and we couldn’t make you stop snoring.’

‘I never snore.’ Bethesda had told me so. Or did she lie to soothe my vanity?

Lucius laughed. ‘They could hear you all over the house! My sister Tertia made a game of it. She said—’

‘Never mind.’ I started to slip the tunic over my head. The thing became twisted and tangled as if it had a life of its own. My arms were as stiff as my legs.

‘Anyway, Father said we should undress you, because your clothes were so sweaty and soiled from the trip. He made old Naia wash them for you before she went to bed last night. It’s so hot today, they’re already dry.’

I finally managed to cover myself, none too graciously. I looked out of the window again. Not a breeze stirred the treetops. Slaves were busy in the fields, but the court below was empty except for a little girl playing with a kitten. The light on the paving stones was blinding. ‘This is impossible. I’ll never make it back to Rome today.’

‘And a good thing.’ This came from Titus Megarus, looming now behind his son with a stern look on his face. ‘I looked in this morning on that mare you rode from the city yesterday. Are you in the habit of driving a horse till it drops?’

‘I’m not much in the habit of using horses at all.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me. No true horseman would have exhausted a fine animal in that fashion. You weren’t seriously thinking of riding her back today?’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘I can’t allow it.’

‘Then how am I to leave?’

‘You’ll take one of my horses.’

‘Vespa’s owner will not be pleased.’

‘I’ve thought about that. Last night you told me that the trial of Sextus Roscius is scheduled for the Ides.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’ll come into the city the day before and bring Vespa with me. I’ll return her to the stables on the Subura Way myself, and if it might help I’ll find my way to the house of this advocate Cicero and tell him what I know. If he wants to call me as a witness at the trial – well, I suppose I’d be willing to show my face, even if Sulla himself is there. And here, before I forget, take this.’ He pulled a rolled parchment from his tunic.

‘What is it?’

‘The petition the Amerian town council presented to Sulla – to Chrysogonus, actually – protesting against the proscription of Sextus Roscius. This is the copy the council kept for itself. The original should be kept somewhere in the Forum, but these kinds of documents have a way of disappearing when they might embarrass someone, don’t they? But this is a valid copy; it bears all our names, even Capito’s. It’s doing no good sitting in my house. Maybe Cicero can use it.

‘Meanwhile I’ll lend you one of my horses. He won’t be able to match your white beauty for strength, but you’ll only be riding him half as hard. I have a cousin with a farm midway between here and Rome. You can stay with him tonight and ride into the city tomorrow. He owes me some favours, so don’t be afraid to eat your fill from his table. Or if you can’t wait to reach Rome, you can try to talk him into trading one of his horses for mine and then keep riding like a crazy man until you get to the city.’

I raised an eyebrow, then acquiesced with a nod. The stern look softened. Titus was very much a Roman father, used to giving lectures and imposing his will on everyone in his house. His duty to Vespa done, he smiled and mussed his son’s hair. ‘And now you’ll go wash your face and hands by the well and then join us for the meal. While city folk may have just risen, some of us have been up since cock’s crow working up an appetite.’

The whole family gathered in the shade of a massive fig tree to take their midday meal. Titus Megarus had another son besides Lucius, an infant boy, as well as three daughters, all with the same family name plus another to mark their order, in the traditional Roman style: Megara Majora, Megara Minora, Megara Tertia. Though I couldn’t quite discern who was a resident and who might only be visiting, joining the meal that day were also two brothers-in-law, one of them married with young children, two grandmothers, and one grandfather. The children ran about, the women sat on the grass, the men sat on chairs, and two slave women moved among us making sure that no one went hungry.

Titus’s wife leaned against the tree trunk, nursing the infant; her eldest daughter sat nearby and cooed a lullaby that seemed to follow the meandering tune of the stream that rippled nearby. One was never far from music in the home of Titus Megarus.

Titus introduced me to his father and brother-in-law, who already seemed to know something about my visit. Together they derided Capito and Magnus and their henchman Glaucia, then drew away from the topic with nods and pursed lips as if to let me know I could rely upon their discretion. Soon the conversation turned to crops and the weather, and Titus pulled his chair closer to mine.

‘If you were planning on another look at Capito and company before you leave, you may be disappointed.’

‘How’s that?’

‘I sent Lucius on an errand into town this morning, and on his way back he passed the three of them on the road. Magnus muttered something faintly insulting, so Lucius politely asked them where they were headed. Capito told him they were on their way to one of his new estates on the Tiber to do some hunting. Which means, of course, that they can’t possibly be back before sundown, if they come back today at all.’

‘Which leaves the house to Capito’s wife.’

‘Ah, there’s the gossip. While Lucius was in town he heard they’d had a terrible row yesterday and the old woman stormed out of the house after nightfall to go to stay with her daughter in Narnia. Meaning there’s no one in charge of the estate now except a grizzled old steward Capito inherited from Sextus Roscius. They say the man drinks wine all day and hates his new master. I only tell you this in case you had any unfinished business at Capito’s house. The master and his wife and friends all being gone, I suppose that might be an inconvenience to you. Or perhaps not.’

He turned back to the general conversation wearing the subtle smile of a conspirator quite pleased with himself.

In fact, I left Titus Megarus with no intention of stopping again at Capito’s house. I had already learned what I needed in coming to Ameria; I even carried in my pouch a copy of the petition Titus and his fellow citizens had submitted to Chrysogonus to protest against the proscription of Sextus Roscius. I hardly bothered to look back on the serenity of the Amerian valley as I left it. My thoughts as I guided my undistinguished mount up the hillside were all of Rome, of Bethesda and Cicero and Tiro; of the people on the street of the House of Swans. I frowned, remembering the widow Polia, then smiled, remembering the whore Electa; and I abruptly swung my mount around and headed back towards Capito’s house.