A Roman Ransom (32 page)

Junio stepped obediently forward with my sandals ready to kneel down and face them on my feet. Gwellia rose too, as though to order him away and insist that I lie down on the bed again, but I forestalled her with a gesture of my hand. A sudden inspiration had just come to me.

‘Wait!’ I said. ‘I think I know who owns it. Great Minerva! How could I be such an idiot? I have had the answer all along. That woman with the children. She told us that Myrna’s sister had taken all the carts her father built as a dowry when she wed – to a man who owned a little business on this side of town. Was it a hiring-stables, do you think?’

Everyone was staring at me. Cilla, Porphyllia, my wife, and Junio who was kneeling at my feet by now. Even little Kurso, whom I now perceived loitering timidly in the rain outside the door, had obviously been listening and was watching goggle-eyed.

‘Don’t you see?’ I said. ‘This is the part of the pattern that was missing up till now. When Julia went out visiting that day, she didn’t take a carriage of her own, because it had taken Marcus to the
ordo
meeting in the town. We know she sent out for a hiring-coach. And Myrna, of course, knew someone who would serve them beautifully! I wondered how the coachman noticed nothing when the kidnapping took place. But the answer is more simple than I thought. He was a part of the whole conspiracy. And now he has contrived to pick the doctor up, as well. We need to find out where these stables are, and bring this man in as soon as possible.’

‘Well, I can tell you where it is,’ my wife remarked. ‘I picked up the carriage at the gates, of course, where it was waiting for custom as they always do, but the driver pointed out the stables as we passed. It is a little off the military road, a mile or so this side of Glevum – just before the
terratorium
begins. I could show you, if you were only well enough to walk that far. It is not difficult to find.’

I nodded. ‘I think I’ve seen the signs for it.’ I was not given to hiring vehicles myself, but I thought I knew the place she was referring to. Almost all the farmland bordering the main road on this side of the town had been purchased or appropriated by the state to supply the army with its food (the
territorium
that Gwellia had spoken of), but up the ancient tracks there were still areas – more infertile or less convenient – which the former owners had managed to retain. I recalled a sort of placard at the side of such a lane – an inexpert picture of a horse and cart, and a finger pointing to a gaggle of buildings up behind an inn. ‘It must be a successful enterprise, if the likes of Julia hired a coach from them,’ I said.

‘It’s the biggest hiring-stables in the area, or so that driver boasted. They’ve got everything from carts to carriages – or if you want an animal to ride, they rent out those as well. They’ve even got a handcart you can hire.’

I stretched out my other foot to Junio, who latched the second sandal on then helped me to my feet. A few moments earlier I had been weak and faint, but now I was buoyed up by sudden hope. Of course Marcus would not be in his most forgiving mood; the arrival of the ransom note alone would see to that. But now that the doctor had abruptly disappeared. I was no longer under threat – unless my patron chose to accuse and charge me on his own account. Of course, with the so-called evidence against me, that was always possible, but I would take a chance on that. I had been promised a day or two to prove my innocence. ‘If Marcus will take me to those stables unannounced, I am confident that we will find the doctor on the premises,’ I said.

‘And Lallius?’ my slave said hopefully. He had finished with my sandal strips by now. ‘And possibly even Julia as well?’

‘Perhaps,’ I answered shortly. The truth was that I really did not know. I was certain that Philades and Lallius were linked somehow, but I still could not see what the connection was, or how Myrna and her family had got caught up in it. However, I hoped that we would soon find out. I saw the cup of mead that Junio had brought, which was now cooling rapidly on the chest beside the door. I gestured to Cilla that she should give it me.

‘Master, it will be cold by now.’ Junio almost let go of my arm. ‘If you want a drink of mead, I’ll get a proper one. Or Kurso can. The kitchens know exactly how to do it right, by now.’

I nodded. ‘Kurso can go and fetch me one,’ I said, but I drained the goblet before I gave it back. Even tepid mead is better than no mead at all, and as usual it seemed to give me energy. It gave me courage too. ‘You can take me to see Marcus in the atrium, and the girls can stay here and attend my wife.’

Gwellia snorted, ‘Husband, of course I am subject to your will, but I remind you that you have been ill. My place is close beside you in such circumstances, and if you are going to see your patron I am coming too. Besides,’ she went on in a gentler tone, ‘if you want to tell him about the hiring-carriages, perhaps I am the one with most to tell.’

I was about to reply that, in his present mood, Marcus was unlikely to be sympathetic to a delegation of that kind, but she forestalled me with a hand upon my arm.

‘Husband, I have been kept away from you for what seems like days. Please allow me to accompany you now.’

There was an expression in her tone and eyes which I could not resist. I sighed. ‘Oh, very well,’ I muttered, not very graciously. I was afraid that Marcus might be very cross by now, and I wanted to protect her from his wrath.

Gwellia had more practical considerations in mind. ‘Here, wait. It’s raining in the court. You can’t go out like that.’ She picked up the battered leather bag – the one which had been missing from the roundhouse earlier, and which she had obviously taken with her into town. She opened it and pulled out a length of cloth. ‘I brought your toga with me – I’d had it at the fuller’s while you were so ill. Here, wrap it round you; it will help to keep you warm. And I’ve brought you a proper cloak, as well. A plaid one which I wove while you were sick. I meant it as a surprise for you when you were well again, but I can’t think of a better moment than the present one.’

Junio was grinning like a maniac, but he wound my toga round me and arranged its folds, and when he’d finished Gwellia draped the cloak.

It look a little while, but my wife was right. The toga made me feel more like a man again, and home-made cloth was warm and comforting, without the weight of Aulus’s heavy cloak. ‘Thank you, Gwellia,’ I said, and met her eyes. No words were spoken, but a great deal was said, and I went out into the courtyard warmed by more than plaid.

I was glad of my small procession when we reached the atrium. I was in the lead, on Junio’s arm, with my wife a formal step or two behind, and the two female attendants bringing up the rear. The folding door which led into the atrium was shut, and Maximus and Minimus were standing guard outside. They looked at us apprehensively.

‘The master is much occupied . . .’ the older one began.

‘He told us he was not to be disturbed . . .’

‘And he’s in a dreadful mood,’ Maximus observed. ‘With that note and everything. He’s – uh – got a flask of wine in there, as well. And he insists on pouring it himself.’

‘He will want to see me, and hear what I have got to say,’ I said, in my most formal voice, trying to convince myself that this was the case.

Maximus looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet, ‘Of course, citizen, if you command, we will go in and tell him you are here. Only, when the steward came, a little while ago . . .’ he began, and paused. He was obviously nervous about saying any more, but his colleague interrupted in a rush.

‘The master was so angry, you could hear him shout from here. Threatened to have him whipped – the senior slave!’ He looked at me. ‘So, be very careful, citizen. That ransom note disturbed him terribly.’

I nodded. ‘Tell him I have news about the doctor’s whereabouts,’ I said. ‘And an idea that might lead us to where Julia is, as well.’ That was an overstatement, I was well aware, but I could think of nothing that was more likely to win my patron’s ear.

I was right. Minimus departed, with another furtive glance, but he was quickly back again. He looked relieved. ‘The master will see you straight away,’ he said, and pulled the door ajar.

Marcus was sitting in his accustomed wicker chair. There was a jug of wine beside him, and from his flushed face and dishevelled air, it looked as though he’d emptied most of it. There was no sign of Pulcrus, but to my surprise the slave-trader was still in evidence.

He was a swarthy fellow in a rust-coloured tunic with a sort of greenish turban round his head, and had obviously been exhibiting his wares: not only the chubby female, who was standing naked in the centre of the room with her hands tied behind her so that her professional attributes were distinctly on display, but also several lengths of costly coloured silk – crimson, yellow, pink, emerald and blue – which had been laid out like rivers of vibrant colour on the floor. Silken treasures to take your breath away. Literally treasures – such fabrics were worth three times their weight in gold, if you were able to lay hands on them.

Marcus was ignoring all of this and gazing at a writing tablet in his hands. He wasn’t angry, as I thought he might have been. His face was anguished and there was perspiration on his brow.

Another man might have realised that there was no chance of a sale, but the trader was persisting with his wheedling talk. ‘Very rare, Excellence. Very fine. A special price for you.’ His Latin was fluent but ungrammatical, and he was wringing his hands as if he could somehow squeeze a bargain out of them. ‘I traded a whole cart of slaves for them. You remember last time that I come . . .’

Marcus looked up and interrupted, in a weary tone. ‘I bought all you had, I know, and asked for more. But things are different now. Ah, Libertus. You have news for me?’ This time he did stretch out his hand to me.

I stumbled to my knees and kissed it thankfully. ‘I believe so, Excellence.’

‘Very well.’ He motioned me to rise, then snapped his fingers at the visitor. ‘I’ll take the girl. Put all the rest away. Speak to my steward for your money when you have finished packing up.’ He turned to me, paying no attention to my little retinue. ‘Now, what is it that you have to say? I warn you, it had better be significant. I am in no mood for trivialities. You have heard that I received another note?’

I nodded and rose slowly to my feet, trying to ignore the turbaned man who was now snatching up his precious wares almost from underneath our feet and placing them carefully in a lined wooden chest. ‘The slave-trader brought it in, I understand?’

The fellow had been listening, for he stopped in the act of winding up a bale of damson silk, and came to bow before me as though I were a person of some consequence. Perhaps my small crowd of followers had led to that mistake. ‘It was give me as I drive up to the door. A man on horseback, that is all I know. He wear a toga, so I know he wealthy man. I take the packet, and I bring it in. I no idea what it contains, I swear by Isis and all the gods of Nile.’

‘He paid you to take it, I suppose?’ I said. It was not an accusation, I was merely thinking aloud, but the trader was instantly afraid.

‘Only a
denarius
, most gracious citizen. My cart is standing in the road, across the gate, and he cannot get past. He say “No answer is required” and gallop off. I am a poor man, citizen. I not turn down an honest chance to earn.’

Of course the fellow was unfortunate. He obviously could not know about the kidnapping – Marcus had succeeded in keeping his misfortune from the gossips in the town. But a
denarius
was such a handsome tip that I would have thought twice before accepting it. I’d have known at once that something was amiss, and the errand was likely to prove rather dangerous.

Marcus, however, had waved all this aside. ‘Of course, of course, I am not blaming you. It’s obvious this person, whoever he might be, did not wish to come up to the gate. If you had not been there, he would most likely just have thrown the tablet in over the wall, like the last time. The problem is not who brought it in, but that it came at all. So, when you have finshed with your cloths . . .’

He waited pointedly until the trader had first bundled up his goods, and then – walking backwards and clasping the box of fabrics against his chest – bowed himself and the naked wet nurse out.

Only then did Marcus burst out, bitterly, ‘You know how much they are demanding now?’

I shook my head, and he named a sum which made me whistle in surprise. My patron is a very wealthy man, but even he would have some trouble in amassing it.

‘By tomorrow, at the lastest, that is the demand. Or else they will return Julia to me, a little at a time.’ His voice was slurred with wine, but there was no mistaking the raw anguish in his tone. ‘And to show that they are serious, they have sent me this.’ He handed me a little leather bag, whose drawstrings had been used to hold the tablet closed. It held what looked like a bloodstained fingertip, a woman’s, neatly severed at the joint.

Shock and numbing horror made me speak before I thought. ‘Of course, that might not be Julia’s at all . . .’ and then I stumbled to a stop. That was no solace, in the circumstances. If the man who sent it was capable of doing this to anyone at all, he was capable of doing it to Julia.

‘I cannot take the chance,’ Marcus murmured in despair. ‘We’ve seen what these people did to Myrna, too. I’m to leave the money in the woods tomorrow night, close to where we left the bag before.’ He sighed. ‘The guards are to be withdrawn from Lallius’s street as well, at least until after the father’s funeral. Julia will be returned to us next day.’ He frowned. ‘I didn’t know that he was even dead.’

I was wondering whether to urge him to attempt a compromise and point out that the kidnappers had not honoured their promises so far, when my wife moved swiftly to my side, and made a deep obeisance of her own.

‘With your permission, Excellence?’ Her voice was low and sweet.

My patron gave her the phantom of a smile. ‘Well?’

Gwellia, with a dignity which made me proud of her, told Marcus everything that she’d told me about the situation in the coin inspector’s house. ‘I can tell you this of my own knowledge, Excellence,’ she finished, dropping him a bob.