A Roman Ransom (22 page)

We had not long to wait. The two boys were back in what seemed no time at all. With them was a lanky soldier, in burnished uniform. He carried his helmet underneath one arm, and in the other hand he was holding an enormous leather bag, straight before him at arm’s length, as though it were some sort of ceremonial.

He marched up to Marcus and drew smartly to a halt. ‘In the name of his most imperial divinity, the emperor . . .’ – and so on through Commodus’s growing list of names and honorifics (he was even calling himself ‘Hercules’ these days), finishing breathlessly, ‘Cavalryman Rectus, reporting as requested. Excellence!’ He held the bag out for inspection. It was a fine drawstring one, of a quality and size that isn’t often seen. Not by me, certainly.

Marcus looked levelly at me. ‘Well?’

I shook my head. ‘Excellence. I swear by all the gods. I have never seen that bag before. It’s . . .’ And then, of course. I realised what it was. I felt myself go pale. ‘Is that the bag you put the ransom in?’

‘He’s feigning. Excellence. He knows quite well it is.’ The doctor had half risen to his feet, and turned triumphantly to Marcus. ‘Wait until you see what was found inside. With your permission, Excellence, that is?’

Marcus nodded. The soldier placed his trophy on the ground and took two smart steps backwards. Everybody watched.

Philades took the bag and slowly opened it, and – in the manner of a market conjurer – drew out a small embroided garment. There was a gasp. An infant’s long-sleeved tunic. And then a little woollen cap with ties under the chin. I watched with horror as the doctor added to the pile, finishing with a pair of tiny leather shoes and a hooded cape with gold embroidery – the very miniature of Marcus’s own. There was a hush until, after what seemed an eternity, Philades spoke again. ‘These would belong to Marcellinus, I presume?’

My patron had turned as white as newly fulled cloth, though two angry spots were burning in his cheeks.

‘Does this not convince you that this man was part of it?’ Philades said.

‘Do not believe him,’ I begged.

Marcus looked at me. It was clear that he really thought he’d been betrayed. ‘I should have listened to him earlier. He warned me that you were in the plot and that a fever could derange the mind. It distresses me to find he was right, though I was loth to think so. I can scarcely believe it even now, but I cannot ignore the evidence of my own two eyes. Yet I cannot comprehend how you could plan all this when you were almost ready for the ferryman to take you across the Styx.’ He turned to the soldier ‘Where did you find the bag?’

Two steps forward and a swift salute. ‘Sir! Stuffed into the woven fence that encircles the roundhouse. Just beside the gate and only half concealed. I dismounted and collected it while my companion went inside and searched the rest of the enclosure and the huts. There appeared to be nothing else to find, though he was very thorough, I believe. Sir!’

Meaning he had ransacked everything. I could not restrain myself any longer. Even before the soldier had moved back to stand beside the burly guard. I was already crying out. ‘I swear that it was not there when we were, Excellence!’ By now I was pleading for my life. ‘Ask Junio . . .’ I saw my patron’s look of scorn. ‘Ask Pulcrus – he was there! Ask your carriage driver. Patron, you were there yourself! If it was as badly hidden as this man suggests, someone would have seen it, wouldn’t they?’ I could see that my patron was considering my words, and a sudden inspiration struck me. ‘Ask Malodius – he was holding the horses the whole time we were in the house – and he was standing right beside the gate.’

Marcus’s expression did not change a whit. ‘You two pageboys, fetch Malodius. Soldier, you may dismiss. Report to your commander.’ All three obeyed at once.

There followed a long and anxious wait – hushed, except that my heart was thumping so I was sure that everyone could hear. I wanted to plead that the medicus had very likely contrived to have the bag and its contents found, but I knew that counter-accusations would do no good. The soldier had obviously found the bag exactly where he claimed. But who had put it there? I could see no way that Philades could have managed it himself. He could not have left the villa without someone seeing him, and doubtless there would be a dozen witnesses to swear that he had been here all day. I was still wrestling with this problem when Philades broke the silence, still arguing his case.

‘Forgive me, Excellence, but even if Malodius did not see the bag, it doesn’t prove Libertus innocent. It may be that he hid it in the fencing as he left. Ask yourself why he was so keen to call in at the roundhouse at all? Because he knew the bag was there, perhaps?’

‘My wife was missing!’ I protested.

Philades sneered. ‘How convenient! And now the money’s missing too. Excellence, consider. We only have this Cilla’s word for it that there was no one in that house last night: someone picked up the ransom, after all. And we did find the bag, with your son’s clothes inside.’

My patron turned to me. ‘Libertus, I want to believe you had no part in this. But I fear that it is difficult to do. First my son is mysteriously returned to you, and not to me; then your wife and maidservant are seen to call at Lallius’s house – indeed they scheme to do so and elude the guards; next I learn that Myrna has visited your house, although you swear you never saw her in your life – and now I’m faced with this! The medicus is right. I am forced to draw conclusions, am I not? These facts would be sufficient in a court of law to have you exiled to a barren island for life – if not to something a great deal nastier . . . Ah – slaves, there you are.’

This time it was Maximus who began. ‘I regret to inform you, Excellence . . .’

‘But Malodius is nowhere to be found . . .’

‘They say he’s gone out in the cart . . .’

‘To take some land slaves out . . .’

‘On your own instructions, Excellence,’ the older page finished with a gulp, as if apologetic for having failed in his task. And then he added, in a solo rush, ‘But he’s put the body of the wet nurse where you told him to. It is dressed and ready for the pyre.’

‘Never mind Malodius and what he saw or didn’t see,’ the doctor snapped. ‘The point is that the bag was there. It is clear that . . .’ He stopped and his face took on a sudden puzzled frown. ‘Did you say the body of the wet nurse?’

The two redheads stepped forward. ‘They’ve got her washed . . .’

‘And wrapped up in a sheet . . .’

‘With a few herbs from the kitchen and a candle at her head. . .’

‘She’s lying on a piece of board, all ready for the cart.’

‘The female house slaves saw to it. They say that Malodius called them in and told them those were your orders, Excellence.’ Minimus might have said more but his other half prodded him sharply in the back and he stepped meekly into his place again, beside the gilded pillar on the wall.

Marcus nodded vaguely. Obviously he had more important matters on his mind. ‘I had forgotten that I’d ordered the cart out again. Why, what is the problem, Philades?’

The doctor was looking shaken. ‘You asked me to have a look at Myrna, not half an hour ago.’

‘Of course. It is clear the girl’s been stabbed, but I would be interested in your opinion, all the same. She has been tortured, by the look of it. I would like you to examine her and give me your views.’

‘But . . .?’ Philades was staring at me in that way he had. ‘How long has she been dead?’

‘You are better qualified than I am to determine that,’ Marcus said brusquely. ‘Not longer than a day, apparently, since you saw her alive yesterday at Libertus’s gate.’

I gained a little courage from this brisk rebuke, and raised my head again. Something of interest had occurred to me. ‘With your permission, Excellence, with regard to that. How did the doctor know that it was Myrna he saw? According to the household pages, he was never at the villa while she was working here. By the time he arrived, you had sent her home. So how could he have recognised her, as he says he did? And why didn’t he mention it before?’

Philades gave me another of his looks and turned his back on me. He spoke to Marcus. ‘With respect, Excellence, I did attempt to tell you. You would hear nothing against this citizen for which I had no solid proof. But now, perhaps, you are prepared to hear. And as to knowing who it was, she fitted the description of Myrna that I’d heard – and a wet nurse has certain features which are obvious, even if one is not a medicus. However, since the girl is lying in your stable block, it will be a simple matter to resolve. If I go and look at her I can tell at once if it is the girl I saw before.’

Marcus nodded. ‘Do so,’ he said, and the doctor went.

My heart sank. Whether this was the same girl or not I was certain that the medicus would claim it was. However, I summoned the last remnants of my strength and tried to conduct myself with dignity. ‘Forgive me, Excellence. I do not trust the medicus to tell the truth. Permit Cilla to go with him and look at the body too. She can confirm his story – either way.’

Marcus looked stonily at me. ‘You do not think that she would lie for you?’

‘Well,’ Cilla offered, ‘Kurso saw our visitor, as well. He is the one who fetched me when she came – he’s far too shy to speak to her himself, but he must have had a proper look at her. If you could send for him, he’d soon tell you the truth. He can’t know what has been happening here, so he would have no reason to tell you any lies.’

Marcus considered this. ‘And where is Kurso now?’

‘I suppose he’s in the workshop in the town. Or on his way back from Glevum with my mistress by this time. In any case he won’t be hard to find.’

I took a chance and knelt a little more upright. The guard raised his hand, but Marcus bade him stop. ‘You see, Excellence,’ I urged, ‘the girl offers you an impartial witness of her own accord. She knows that what she’s telling you is true. Patron – mightiness – I swear by all the gods, I had no part in this. I didn’t know the girl had come to me – I didn’t know the bag was in my fence. I’ve never seen those little clothes before, and I have no idea who could have put them there.’

A cloud passed over Marcus’s face. ‘I wish I could believe you,’ he said.

I seized on this tiny scrap of hope. ‘Excellence, you said yourself, I have been very ill. How could I possibly have been involved?’ I saw that he was weakening, and I said impulsively, ‘Give me a day or two – that’s all I ask – to prove my innocence.’

He looked at me. ‘The doctor thinks I ought to have you in the cells. He has been telling me that ever since you came here yesterday. And certainly the facts look bad for you. But I still find it hard to understand how, when you were so ill . . .’ He paused. ‘Very well. I accede to your request. You may not leave the villa, unless under guard, but within the walls you may continue free. I will even consent to have you waited on and you may make enquiries of the servants as you wish. I hope you can convince me that my leniency in this is justified. You can do that best by bringing Julia back. Two days, that’s all – or I’ll be forced to reconsider. You understand?’

I noticed that he still talked about my ‘bringing Julia back’ as though it were in my power, but I nodded gratefully. ‘You are merciful, Excellence.’ I bowed my head.

He did not smile, but rose majestically and clapped his hands again. Servants and soldiers crowded in. ‘Take the girl away and strike the chains from her. Junio, take this citizen to bed and let him rest. He looks in want of it. Pages, attend me to my bedchamber – I am in need of a little rest myself.’

Marcus was quite right. I did need to rest – though after what had just happened in the atrium I could see little prospect of a relaxing nap. I might have won a temporary reprieve, but I was shaken to my bones, and I was thankful for Junio’s strong arm to lead me to my room. I could tell, from the expression on his face, that my slave needed no explanation of what had occurred.

‘You heard?’ I said, as we reached the bedchamber and he assisted me to sit down on the bed.

‘Well, Maximus and Minimus were listening,’ Junio said, stooping to unlatch my sandals, and then slip them off. ‘They kept the rest of us more or less informed, until Marcus’s chief steward came along and ordered us all over to the servants’ room. After that, I think, he took a post outside the atrium door himself.’ He helped me to lift my legs and I sank into the blissful comfort of the stretched goatskin mattress and soft feather cushions of the bed. At least I could lie down for a little while.

I pulled the covers over me, aware that my head was thumping and I was shivering and weak. Junio stirred the embers in the brazier, then came and tucked me in. ‘I have ordered a cup of something warm for you,’ he murmured. ‘The kitchens are already making it and Porphyllia will bring it by and by. Now, master, do you wish to sleep, or would you prefer a chance to talk things through, in case I can help to clarify your thoughts?’

Did I wish to sleep? I would have given anything to slide into oblivion, but in my current state of mind it was impossible. ‘There are so many unconnected elements in this,’ I muttered, leaning back on to my pillows with a sigh. ‘And I’ve just two days to come up with an explanation of it all, or Marcus swears that he will have me in the cells. I may never see Gwellia again – except on a barren island, in exile perhaps.’ I did not need to add that if things went badly wrong. I might find my whole estate was forfeit to the state – and that included Junio and both my other slaves.

‘There must
be
an explanation,’ Junio said, placing my shoes beside the brazier to warm. ‘Perhaps between us we can work out what it is.’ He was keeping his back to me as much as possible, and I knew that he was afraid to meet my eyes in case he should betray the anxiety he felt. He need not have bothered. I could read the tension in his shoulders and in his sudden nervous business.

‘Marcus obviously still thinks that I have contacts and could arrange to free his wife – thanks to that wretched doctor, I believe. That accusation is enough to put me in jail,’ I said, with a shiver. I was feeling weak enough in all this luxury: a night in Glevum’s draughty cells would be the end of me. ‘And what transpired in the atrium today won’t change his mind. Why should Myrna come to find me – supposing that she did? Me, of all people? I have never met her in my life.’