The Ghosts of Glevum (13 page)

The others took no notice, and she went on grumbling. ‘Trust Grossus to leave us with this mess. If he wanted the man robbed and killed, he should have done it himself while he had the chance.’

‘We ought to do it, and do it now, and weight the body down. That way the authorities need never know. We’d take his belt and shoes, of course. One of us could sell them in another town,’ Cornovacus put in.

The wild-eyed youth they had called Lercius came towards me. He had a piece of jagged timber in his hand. He raised it like a club, then jabbed it like a spear, and then tapped it lovingly against his palm. He smiled. ‘Can’t I just . . .’

That made up my mind. Sosso or no Sosso, I was going to speak. ‘Listen!’ I said loudly.

Lercius reacted instantly. The jagged wood jerked upwards at my vital parts. If Sosso’s hand had not closed over his it might have been the end. Another inch and he would have disembowelled me.

‘What was that for?’ Lercius said, nursing his hand: Sosso was obviously very strong. ‘He’s not worth anything.’

I said bitterly, ‘You’re right, of course. With my patron locked away in jail, my life is of little value to anyone but me. It must be tempting to get rid of me. But there’s another way. Help me, and my patron will be grateful when he’s freed – which he will be, when I can reach the proper authorities. You heard what he said: I’m sure he can prove his innocence.’ (I had my doubts about this, inwardly, but I wasn’t going to voice them now.) ‘You get me out of here, and I’ll ensure that you get a good reward without any interference from the guards. And the same thing goes for . . .’ I was going to say ‘Fatbeard’ but corrected just in time, ‘the big fellow with the beard,’ I finished.

If Grossus Fatbeard held these people in his power, as I deduced he did – extorting a proportion of what little they obtained in return for fire and a smattering of food – it was important that my promise covered him. It was a gamble, of course, and I had not the slightest notion of how the promise was going to be fulfilled, but it was enough to make them think.

There was a startled hush, and then the woman said, ‘Well, you heard what Parva said. If he’s sure that they’ll release him in the end . . . it might be safest in the long run, I suppose . . .’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Cornovacus said. ‘This son of a dog is lying.’

‘I still think I should . . .’ Lercius brandished his pointed stick again. ‘I’ll get the truth from him.’

‘Not now, Lercius!’ somebody exclaimed and the crone said, ‘Perhaps we should wait and see what Grossus thinks.’

I had them wavering at least, but it was Sosso who had the final word. Despite his unpromising appearance and grunting speech, he seemed capable of sharp intelligence and the others obviously deferred to him.

Now he was furrowing the place where his forehead should have been, and signalling to the rest to hold their tongues. Then, without lowering the knife, he turned to me. ‘How much?’

I was startled into foolishness. ‘How much for what?’

‘Don’t play games with us, pavement-maker, or we’ll change our minds.’ That was Cornovacus, coming suddenly to life and slamming me back against the wall so hard that I stood spluttering for breath. ‘You know exactly what he means. How much to get you safely out of here?’

As I struggled to regain my breath I tried to think. I had not expected such sudden capitulation, and the direct challenge caught me unawares. I realised I had no sensible reply to give.

I was suddenly horribly aware of how feeble my bargaining position was. I had no idea, in fact, what sort of ‘good reward’ Marcus was likely to agree to pay on my account, even supposing he was ever freed – and that looked far from certain, whatever I had said. Or he might be exiled – forbidden ‘fire and water’ within the Empire, as the formula required. In that case his goods would be forfeit to the state. It was even possible that, if he were suddenly released, he would pretend to regard the whole suggestion as a joke: Marcus was notoriously careful with every quadrans and of course I had no undertaking from him that he would pay anything at all.

It was a worry. No doubt these men would set the figure high, and I had no money of my own. Literally no money, now that Junio had my purse – not even at the roundhouse, if my instructions had been obeyed.

‘We’re waiting!’ The wraith, who still had me in his grip, gave me a savage little shake. ‘And no more lies about losing money on the chariots. We’ve asked. We know that you were never there last night!’

I had forgotten my pathetic little subterfuge, so this disconcerted me; and the suggestion that my story had been checked out like this made me more disturbed than ever. ‘My patron knows how to show his gratitude,’ I burbled, trying to avoid naming an outright sum. ‘I’m sure that, when he’s freed, he will surprise you with his generosity.’

I knew that it was weak. The man with half a hand obviously thought so too. He shook his head. ‘Not good enough!’ he said. ‘We see money here and now, otherwise I vote we rob and kill him straight away. That way we’re sure of something, anyway. Bury the body in the marsh; they’ll never find it there.’

There was another murmur of agreement round the fire at this.

Lercius waved his jagged piece of wood again, his face in the sullen firelight wreathed in smiles. ‘I’ll find out if he has money, if you like. Or if you’re going to push him in the river, let me have him first,’ he pleaded.

There was something disquietingly infantile in his enthusiasm, and it dawned on me chillingly for the first time that he was not entirely sane. He was like a child who likes tormenting flies. The idea that I might become a human version of the fly was enough to send shudders down my spine. I tried to speak, but no words came out.

‘Just a little bit?’ he begged.

Sosso shook his head at him, but the wraith said warningly to me, ‘He’s right. You pay us something now, or there’s no deal at all.’

I found my voice, but it was still unsteady as I said, ‘I’ll give you something when I reach the house. But I don’t have my purse . . .’

At this Sosso gave a nod towards the man with the scars, who got up and shambled to my side. Then, almost before I knew what was afoot, a pair of expert hands were travelling over me, so quick and light that I scarcely felt them move.

‘No purse,’ the man reported, and melted back into the dark.

‘He’s got that fancy oyster spoon,’ the woman said. ‘That should be worth a
sestertius
or two. We’ll have that for a start.’

‘My spoon?’ I hadn’t thought of that. It was the one object of any value that I had with me, but it had hardly seemed adequate as a bribe. That was no problem. I would have given a thousand oyster spoons to be away from there. ‘Very well,’ I muttered hastily, eyeing Lercius, who was still loitering. ‘The oyster spoon it is.’ I started to unclip it from my belt, but Sosso intervened.

‘Belt too!’ he grunted, and there was nothing I could do but take that off as well.

‘Now those.’ He pointed to my shoes.

I did gulp a bit at this. I was almost freezing as it was. The idea of walking barefoot in cold ooze and mud, with who knew what lurking underneath the mire, sent physical shivers down my spine. Besides, once I had parted with my shoes, I had nothing left to barter with at all. Yet there was not really an alternative.

I made a last attempt. ‘The spoon and belt now and the shoes when I get clear.’

‘You heard. He asked you for the shoes! No arguments.’ The wraith’s iron grip tightened on my arm. ‘You want us to let Lercius loose on you?’

I squatted on the ground and took off my shoes. It occurred to me that I was now entirely at the mercy of the gang. Why should I expect them to keep their word and help me? I couldn’t run and they had everything I owned, except my tunic and my underpants. It would not surprise me now if they took those as well, and either left me here to freeze or trussed me up and tossed me into the Sabrina then and there. In fact I was half expecting it. I could see that it would give Lercius a thrill to undertake the job on their behalf.

Sosso had unexpectedly put down his knife and was sitting on the ground beside the fire, pulling off his own ancient, tattered buskins – if that is not too grand a name for them. They were foot-coverings of the crude old-fashioned type that land slaves sometimes wear: mere bags of uncured cowhide, stripped still bloody from the animal, bound around the foot, and worn until it has dried out to a kind of formless boot. Even in the dim light of the fire I could see that Sosso’s were split and full of holes, and had rubbed raw patches on both his feet – the same feet which he was now trying to force into my soft leather shoes.

They were proper shoes, not sandals – the only ones I had – worn in honour of my visit to the garrison. They had been made specially for me by a shoemaker as part of my payment when I’d designed a pavement for him once, and they were made of soft goatskin, cut to fit my foot. They were designed to lace together like a sandal at the top, admittedly, but on Sosso’s filthy and misshapen feet they looked ridiculous. Both of them were far too small for him, but the one into which he’d pushed his swollen foot scarcely stretched further than the sole, and he struggled to make the laces meet at all. Sosso, though, seemed pleased with the effect, pointing his feet and wiggling his toes like a Lydian dancing girl.

His delight in such a simple thing was so self-evident that, at any other time, I could have felt a pang of sympathy for him, but then I felt only resentment and despair. Acute discomfort, too. I now had no shoes myself and as soon as I stood up freezing slime oozed in between my toes while my soles sank into cold and gritty mud. Walking anywhere like this would be a misery. Though, I told myself, that was probably the very least of my concerns – I would be lucky to walk anywhere again.

Or see anything either, if Lercius had his way. He had crept forward while Sosso was preoccupied, and taken up my spoon. He was now holding it towards me and making little stabbing motions with the oyster-spike in the direction of my eyes. When he saw me flinch he giggled and gave it an unpleasant little twist. In his hands it was a weapon.

The wraith, who had been watching Sosso, turned to him. ‘Put that down, Lercius. It is not for you. It’s to trade for food,’ he said firmly, and to my surprise Lercius gave a sulky shrug and did as he was told.

‘Speaking of food,’ grumbled the ragged woman, whose child had by now set up a thin, hungry wail, ‘here’s Parva with the soup. And none too soon. Grossus promised it to us hours ago.’ She pointed down the alleyway, where the pock-faced girl was struggling towards us through the gloom, carrying a pail of something in both her hands.

Soup. At the very thought of it my stomach growled, and when the girl edged towards the fire – no reluctance to make way for her now! – and lifted off the lid, I thought that I should faint from hunger at the smell of it. No matter that it was the worst kind of soup the cheap hot-food shops sell: a thin and greasy brew in which fragments of fur and hoof are often visible and a bit of gristle is a tasty treat. No matter that it was the drainings of the pot. Tonight it might have been ambrosia.

I wondered how the waiting group would eat, since there were no bowls or spoons in evidence, but the girl unslung a sacking bag which she had been carrying, and opened it to reveal some broken loaves of bread. These she spread out on the upturned bucket-lid, while people clustered round impatiently. The bread was obviously hard and stale, but everyone fell on it at once, seizing a piece and dipping it into the soup, then sucking it voraciously. As if their lives depended on it – as perhaps they did.

Even Sosso had stopped admiring his shoes and sprang up from his muddy perch to take his place. I noticed that the others left him the biggest piece of bread. He impaled it on his knife blade and immersed it in the pail. He did not stop to savour it, as the others did, but gnawed at it hungrily at once, then dipped the remnants in the soup again and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

I had been watching all this hungrily, and was surprised at his restraint, but the reason for it soon became obvious. He speared another piece and gave it to the wraith, who was thus able to eat his meagre meal without for an instant letting go of me. Sosso took up his former station guarding me. The burned man produced a large dead eel from a sack, swiftly struck off its head with a sharp stone, stripped off its skin between his forefinger and thumb, then thrust a long stick down its throat and set it to cook across the fire. It was all done in a moment, and soon the smell of cooking eel arose. I have never cared for eel, but it smelt so good it almost made me faint.

‘I need food,’ I said uncertainly. ‘Give me some. I’ll pay.’

Sosso sneered. ‘How? Your underpants?’ The knife-blade flickered closer as he spoke.

Suddenly an inspiration dawned. ‘I know where there’s a denarius,’ I said.

The knife withdrew perceptibly. ‘Where?’

‘In the fountain of Apollo, near the market place. I dropped it there myself. Or rather, I offered it to someone from the garrison, if he could get a message to my patron or give me some information at the least. But first of all he wasn’t any help and then he accidentally knocked it in. It should still be there.’

‘Not any more it’s not.’ The man they called Cornovacus stepped forward suddenly and I got my first proper look at him. He was tall and thin and scrawny, wrapped in filthy rags, and his face had the pointed features of a rat, but there was a certain darting sharpness in his eyes. He had a silver coin in his hand. ‘This is the money, Sosso. I was going to give it to you for the common purse. By Dis, I think he’s telling us the truth. He was at the fountain earlier – I saw him there. And he did put money on the water trough. Three whole denarii. I saw the wretch that he was talking to – a cursed fellow in a military cloak – stick out his greedy little hand and scoop the others up, may Jupiter turn his cursed blood to bile. But this one fell in.’ He turned it in his hand. ‘I got it out. I thought the Fates had smiled on me at last.’

‘How could you know all that?’ I was startled into speech. ‘There was nobody about.’