The Fateful Day (16 page)

‘M
aximus? Accident?’ I repeated stupidly, scrambling to my feet. The day, which had been terrible so far, was fast becoming worse. ‘What’s happened? Where is he? Is he going to be all right?’

They were idiotic questions, as I realised instantly. Of course, if this had been a trivial affair, Junio would never have come rushing halfway across the town to find me here and he would never normally burst in before he was announced. Obviously this was something serious. And if he knew what caused the accident he’d have told me straight away. I braced myself, ready for a harrowing account.

But Junio said nothing, simply shook his head. That was more alarming than graphic description would have been.

‘Great Jupiter!’ I cried. I found that I had seized my son by both his upper arms, hard enough to make him wince. ‘Don’t tell me that he’s dead.’

Junio gently disengaged himself, but if I hoped for reassurance he could not offer it. ‘Not quite, when I left him – but he may be close to it. I found him on the workshop floor when I got back. It looks as if he’d tumbled down the attic stairs – though what he was doing up there I cannot begin to guess. It looks as if the ladder had moved away from him and he was lying in a crumpled heap. He’s clearly hurt his head. I tried to rouse him, but he did not stir, and I could find no sign of life. I had to hold a polished mirror to his lips to see that there was any breath at all.’

‘And you left him lying there?’ Another stupid question. What else could he have done?

But Junio shook his head. ‘Not unattended, Father – at least not for any longer than I could avoid. I made him as comfortable as I could, then rushed next door and fetched the tanner’s wife. She wasn’t very gracious but she agreed to come, and when she saw what had happened to the boy she changed her attitude. Sent me round to fetch a couple of their slaves to help. When I left she had them warming water on the fire and fetching soft cloth and healing herbs to wash the wound, and strong wine to dribble in his mouth.’ He made a despairing gesture with his hands. ‘I even offered an oblation of it on the household shrine in the hope of invoking the mercy of the gods, so everything that could be done is being done for him. But I’m not sure how successful it will be. I think you should come as quickly as you can.’

I was almost too shaken to think of anything, but the habits of courtesy enabled me to say, ‘Excuse me, steward, but you will realise that this requires my presence at my workshop instantly. So pardon me, and thank you for the offer of the wine but – like Commemoratus – I really cannot stay.’

Vesperion waved my apologies aside. He was already leading the way out onto the quay. ‘Never mind Commemoratus. He means nothing to me, despite the flattering name. But I’m sorry to hear about your troubles, citizen. If it’s in my power to help at all, send word to me and I’ll do anything I can. I’m sure my owner would agree at once – I’ll tell him what’s happened as soon as he arrives. He thinks most highly of you, as I think you know, and if we have any useful herbs or unguents in store, I know he’d be glad to make a gift of some.’

This unexpected kindness took me by surprise. Perhaps it was the sudden brightness of the day after the gloom of the interior – I am not in general a sentimental man – but I found my eyes were watering and I had to blink them hard. I swallowed the lump that was rising in my throat, managed to murmur, ‘Thank you, Vesperion – and farewell, for now,’ and followed Junio out onto the dock.

The quayside was still very crowded, much to my surprise, despite the previous orders from the soldiers to disperse. Those who remained had homes or business here, perhaps, or simply worked the ships – though most of the unloading activity had ceased. Groups of people stood in sullen huddles here and there, murmuring discontentedly about the forced delay. My mind was so concerned with Maximus that I might not have noticed what surrounded me, except that several muttering clusters were standing in our path, and we were attracting vicious whispers and suspicious looks as we attempted to weave our way towards the major road.

‘Where do you think you’re going, citizen?’ one of the captains called. ‘Planning to escape the town before they slap this new tax on us all?’ The shouts and cheers that greeted this emboldened him, and he came and stood directly in our way. ‘I shouldn’t bother to try and run away. The tax collector will find you in the end.’

There were hoots and jeers from several in the crowd then someone shouted, ‘He’s one of them. He was with those soldiers earlier. I saw him come into the dock – he was accompanied by that trumpeter. I swear to Jupiter, he’ll know the truth about this tax.’

The cry was taken up from all around. The mood was getting restless – which was dangerous. It was still hours before the proclamation would be made. I looked around to see what had happened to the guard, and saw him at the corner of the main road into town, with his baton drawn, trying to placate a group of angry traders who were jostling him. Villosus and the trumpeter were no longer to be seen – presumably they had gone back to the garrison by now. I devoutly wished that they had not. The presence of three soldiers would have been enough to ensure that this disturbance didn’t escalate.

Someone grabbed my toga and I tore it free, and turned to try to reason with the crowd – though I could not help remembering events in Rome, and what had happened to the recent Emperor when he attempted something similar.

‘I know nothing of any tax,’ I said. ‘But I can tell you this. This proclamation is because there’s been a courier from Rome and the same announcement is being made throughout the Empire.’ My denial had no effect at all. People were still crowding round me, insisting I must know. I had an inspiration. ‘I think there may be a public holiday declared,’ I said.

In fact, that was very likely to be true. The accession of an Emperor is always marked by some special festival – an occasion much welcomed by the general populace, as – apart from the sacrifice at the imperial shrine – it gives them an excuse to feast, often on food provided by the state. Didius would doubtless see the value of the bribe and declare a day of celebration very soon.

I must have spoken with enough conviction to impress my audience. The captain who had been taunting me stepped back a pace or two so that his face was no longer inches from my own, and there were one or two ragged cheers from elsewhere in the crowd. ‘But this is only hearsay,’ I added hastily. ‘You’ll have to wait for confirmation in the forum later on.’

But people now surged round me more closely than before and there was no move to let us through. I began to regret what I had said. Any moment somebody would ask what the public holiday was for – and my refusal to tell them might result in violence.

It was Junio who saved me. He held up his hand. ‘What my father has just told you is joyful news, of course. But he has no cause to celebrate himself. Some of you know that I came here seeking him, and that it was an urgent message that I brought. One of his valuable slaves is lying hurt. Let him past, so he can go and tend to him.’

I would not have bet a quadrans on the success of this appeal, but to my surprise the crowd began to part, allowing sufficient room for us to pass. The mutterings and jeers had ceased as well, and it was in awkward silence that we reached the corner of the major thoroughfare where the soldier was still waiting with his baton drawn.

‘Citizen! A word!’ He stood and barred my way.

I felt my heart sink to my sandal straps. It was obvious that he’d been turning people back and not allowing them to leave the quay that way. And now it looked as if he was going to do the same to me, and I would have to force my way across the dock again to one of the stinking smaller alleyways that served the area, some of them ankle-deep in putrid mud and sediment.

I turned to the soldier. ‘I thought we had received an order to disperse? You know that I was given an escort to come here by none other than the commandant himself. It’s clear he personally approved my visit to the dock, as no doubt your colleagues can confirm. Do you intend to thwart him and prevent me leaving here?’

The man looked startled and appalled, as well he might. He took my arm and led me closer to the wall, saying in a murmur that could not be overheard, ‘Citizen, I intended nothing of the kind. There was indeed an order to disperse, and anyone who had no business in the dock has gone. But that still left the sea-captains and the owners of the warehouses – and their slaves of course – and they are beginning to show open discontent. I was advised to keep them here an hour or so, instead of letting them rampage directly into town – apparently there’s some important will-reading going on. But though there are lots of other alleys into town, preventing people leaving this way almost caused a riot. One patrician almost burst with rage – and I thought his bodyguard was going to flatten me.’ He gestured vaguely in the direction of the crowd.

I looked where he was pointing, and realised who he meant. Over the heads of some of the assembled men, I could see the towering figure of Cacus backed up against the wall – with a no-doubt furious Commemoratus at his side, though he was hidden by the press of onlookers. ‘I’ve met that bodyguard,’ I said. ‘More than a match for several ordinary men.’

The soldier nodded. ‘I’ve sent the auxiliary and the trumpet player back to the garrison, asking for reinforcements to be sent – but nothing’s happened yet. I was hoping you might go there and speak on my behalf – you obviously have influence with the commandant – and ask him to send somebody as soon as possible.’

I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry, that is quite impossible. I’m sure he’ll send as quickly as he can. But I can’t go to the garrison myself. Did you not hear what my son was saying to the crowd? There’s a member of my household staff who’s lying, badly hurt, back at my workshop – and I need to go to him. But there is one favour that I can do for you.’ I nodded to where Cacus could still easily be seen, moving in the opposite direction now, but towering over every other person in the crowd, and looking over his shoulder towards us with a frown. ‘If that’s the servant of the man you mean, then I can vouch for them. His owner’s not a trader, he’s an important visitor, here to attend the reading of that very will. He has an imperial warrant of claim on the estate – I’m astonished that he didn’t wave it in your face. If you value your skin, soldier, I should call him back and let them through at once.’

At the mention of the warrant the soldier had turned pale. ‘Thank you, citizen,’ he murmured fervently. ‘I’ll do as you suggest. You!’ he beckoned to an urchin who was hovering nearby. ‘Go tell that giant with the golden skin to come back here at once. And you, citizen, of course may continue on your way. And may you have good fortune with your slave.’ He stood aside to let me pass and sketched me a salute.

I turned immediately and was about to set off up the street, when I heard the clatter of marching hobnails on the paving stones ahead. The promised reinforcements had obviously arrived. I stepped into an entrance-way to let them pass – twelve of them – armed with shields and with their daggers drawn. They did not glance at me, but marched resolutely on. The soldier on the quay would have no trouble now.

Once they were safely past me, I set off again, hurrying towards the town centre and the north gate beyond as quickly as I could. Junio had been trapped on the quayside by the arrival of the troops, but I expected that he would follow very soon. Yet I’d walked almost half a block before he caught me up. I did not pause to talk but raised a questioning brow at him.

‘Sorry, Father,’ he apologised, as he came up beside me and matched his pace to mine. ‘I got caught up by the guard. If the soldier hadn’t spoken up for me, they would have kept me there. They’re going to let people out in twos and threes, it seems, and there’s to be no assembly till the trumpet sounds again at dusk – people can gather in the forum then. Jove knows what that’s about. Maybe it is a tax or some new law that’s introduced. But I’ll tell you one odd thing that caught my eye. That enormous slave you pointed out – he must have taken fright. When he saw that the pie-keeper was on his way to him, he began to edge away, and when the troops arrived he didn’t turn to watch like everybody else. He started forcing a passage through the crowd the other way – really pushing people roughly as he went – and taking his owner with him, by the look of it.’

I glanced at him, struck by a sudden doubt. ‘You got a sight of the patrician, then? It wasn’t the man who called in at the workshop earlier?’ Commemoratus had denied it when I asked, but I wasn’t sure I trusted him to tell the truth.

Junio shook his head. ‘Definitely not. That was an altogether older person, though not wholly dissimilar in build. And just as belligerent, by the look of it. I wonder why they didn’t come back when they were called.’

I shrugged. I had no interest in Commemoratus now. All my thoughts were with little Maximus. ‘Expecting trouble from the guard, I suppose,’ I said, dismissively. ‘Perhaps they shouldn’t have been so threatening before. The soldier said he thought the slave was going to knock him down. Just as well he didn’t, it would have sparked a riot – just what the commander didn’t want.’

Junio gave me a peculiar sideways look. ‘So it was true what they were saying on the dock? You did get into the garrison, after all. Several people have told me it wasn’t possible – that no one but the curia was admitted there today. And I suppose you really were escorted down here by a trumpeter? And what you said about a public festival was true? I thought that was just a clever ploy to get away.’

Of course, I had forgotten – in my anxiety – that Junio had no idea about the news from Rome. ‘I’ll tell you when we get back to the workshop,’ I promised, walking briskly on. ‘I can’t go into details until we are alone. The town will be full of rumour soon enough. But I did see the commander, and got his promise that a message would be sent to Julia today, though getting one to Marcus will be more difficult. It’s even possible that he’s already on his way back home. But enough of that for now. I can’t walk quickly and talk at the same time. Anyway, it’s your news that I’m most concerned about. Tell me about Maximus – everything you can.’