However, this was no time for mysteries. These had been garments once. They were not glamorous at best, and they had not been improved by recent contact with the bleeding chicken corpse, but – as the woman said – they could, in an emergency, be used again. And it had dawned on me that they seemed to be the only clothes I had. I had glanced around the hut and noted all the contents earlier, but – surely? – I hadn’t seen my tunic, or the sack, or even the leather underpants I’d had on when I arrived. I hitched myself painfully a little more upright and checked again. There was no sign of them.
‘Let me have those things. They’re mine. I can clothe myself at least.’
Lercius ignored me utterly. I looked towards the woman, but she was pouring water into a pot and setting it to heat up on the firestones. She did not look at me.
I sat up fully now, clutching the skins against my goose-greased chest. ‘What’s happened to the rest of my possessions from the roundhouse?’ I enquired.
‘Possessions, citizen?’ said another voice. There was little room inside the hut by now, but by craning painfully around, I could see Sosso standing at the entrance. He had another bloodied bundle on his back, wrapped up in what looked like my sack of yesterday – the remainder of my chickens, probably. He tossed it down outside the door and loped over to squat down at my side. The ugly face was twisted in a leer. ‘You’ve no possessions from the roundhouse, citizen. There’s nothing left of it.’
It was clear, at least, where last night’s clothes had gone. He was sporting, not only my now misshapen shoes, but my tunic too – stretching the seams across the chest and shoulders so that the stitching in some places had already given way. The arrogance of his words and manner had me spluttering and I wanted to stand up and confront him face to face. But he had me at a curious disadvantage. It is hard to seem imposing in an argument when you are the only one with nothing on.
I stayed lying where I was. ‘Those are my things,’ I repeated, aware that I sounded like a fretful child. ‘My bag, my cloak, my sandals, and – for that matter – those are my chickens too!’
‘Not any more.’ The ugly face was twisted in a leer. ‘Citizen! I hear you
are
a citizen?’
I nodded, knowing that would not endear me to the gang.
‘Then listen, citizen. You owe us four denarii.’
Another nod. I didn’t trust my voice.
‘Tunic and chickens – first part-payment – understood?’
‘And you’ll pay the rest, by Mercury.’ Cornovacus had risen to his feet. ‘You’re an accursed white-rober – you’ll have money somewhere. White-robers always do. You’ll tell us where, or I’ll squeeze it out of you.’ He spat. He was not a big man – he was tall and thin – but in this small hut the effect was truly frightening. And I had no money anywhere of any kind. Ordinarily I would have applied to Marcus, but he was in the cells.
‘But . . .’ I began and stopped. It was useless to protest. I had agreed to pay in front of witnesses – they had a verbal contract under law. Even Roman justice was no longer on my side. Not that I thought Sosso would bother with the courts. No doubt he had his own methods of enforcing debts.
I was right.
‘You’ll pay, citizen. I’ll leave Cornovacus with you till you do. And Lercius too.’
Lercius, who had been happily dismembering his chicken with his hands, looked up at me and grinned. ‘Like this!’ He twisted off a leg. It was not a pleasant image, and his simple pleasure in it made it worse. I’d no doubt he would do the same to me with just as much delight. I was beginning to wish that Bullface had caught me after all.
I looked at the old woman for support, but she was careful to avoid my eyes. She had plunged one of the chickens in the pot – just as it was – and now she plucked it out and sat down on the stool, her fingers busy as she pulled the feathers from the skin. She kept her head down and said nothing, although I noticed that she still glanced nervously at the men from time to time. She was as terrified as I was of the gang.
I thought aloud. ‘I’m sure my patron’s wife would help me if she could – but I suppose there’s still a guard outside her house.’
The woman raised her head and looked at me through her wispy strands of hair, although her fingers never faltered in their task. ‘There is indeed. They’ve closed the back route from the villa now, by all accounts, so nobody can get in or out at all. They did let that serving girl come here last night before you came, to buy some comfrey for her mistress, but I don’t think they’ll let her come again. They almost didn’t let her last night. She had to plead with them for hours, she said, until they finally agreed to let her out.’
‘Cilla!’ I had completely forgotten her. I’d promised to meet her in the lane after my interview at the garrison, so that she could take news to Julia. Was that arrangement made only yesterday? After all the shocks and tribulations I’d endured since, that conversation seemed a half a life ago.
‘Is she called Cilla?’ The old face wrinkled in a frown. ‘I don’t think I ever heard her name. She often came here on her mistress’s behalf. Plump and plain-faced as a little pig, but pleasant and with more sense than you’d think.’
That sounded like Cilla.
‘I wonder what will become of her, poor thing,’ the woman said. ‘She told me the soldiers took another ten slaves away to question yesterday, and threatened to take another ten today. They’ll take her master’s slaves at first, of course, ’cause they were at the banquet, but it must be dreadful waiting there like that, not knowing when it’s going to be your turn. And now she’s made herself conspicuous. I don’t know why her mistress made her come – she wasn’t going to die for the want of a bit of comfrey, I’m sure.’
Poor Cilla. I knew why she’d taken such appalling risks. She’d kept her promise and talked her way past the guards to meet up with me. And I had missed her!
Together with my chance to send a message to the house. Julia would have been a good person to beg money from. I had no doubt that Marcus would have lent me four denarii if I asked – especially if I’d succeeded in obtaining his release – but he would certainly have deducted them from anything he paid me later on. He was more cautious with his money than a mother with her child. Julia, on the other hand, would probably have given them outright. That would, at least, have paid Sosso and his gang and left me to face the ruins of my life.
I was mentally bewailing my bad luck and deciding that I must have done something serious to offend the gods, when Sosso spoke. ‘So, you spoke the truth? Your patron is in jail.’ He turned to the firewood-seller’s wife, who by now was halfway through her task. ‘You know this Marcus?’
Little feathers had starting floating up and attaching themselves to her rags and face and hair. She had to rub her toothless mouth and wipe away one that was sticking to her lips before she answered, ‘Of course I do. And so would you, if you knew anything at all about town government. The most important man for miles he was – related to the old Emperor, they say, and a friend of the departing governor. Not that it seems to have done him any good. They’ve still dragged him off and clapped him in the cells – and put a guard upon his house so no one can get in or out of it.’
Sosso said nothing for a moment. He looked down at his misshapen feet and then at me. Then, as if he’d come to a decision, he said at last, ‘We could.’
I didn’t understand. I goggled at him. ‘What?’
‘Get in. Some of us are very good at it.’
‘But there’s an armed guard . . .’
That grin again. ‘There’s one outside the garrison. We get in there.’
And then at last my brain, which seemed to have rusted with the cold and damp, creaked into action. What had Grossus Fatbeard said to me? ‘I have ears and eyes across the town.’
If I could offer more than Grossus did, perhaps Sosso and his men would do the same for me. I could not show my face in town, or even hereabouts. Yet I needed to have news of my patron and, if possible, discover the truth about exactly what had occurred at the banquet. I had no idea at this moment how or where or from whom this information could be gleaned, but if I had someone to spy on my account there was at least a glimmering of a chance. After all, as the old woman had observed, ‘Who takes any notice of a beggar in the street?’ And if they had managed to get into the garrison . . .
‘The garrison?’ I echoed.
He shrugged, as though there was nothing remarkable in that.
I hesitated. These were not the kind of men to trust. They were desperate and I guessed that they would sell their services to the highest bidder. They might yet betray me to Bullface and his men.
Then I looked around the hut. I was at their mercy now. I had nothing, not even any clothes to wear. If I did not do something, I would surely starve. My house was burned, my patron was in jail, and my wife and slaves were safely out of town. What had I to lose?
‘In that case, I have a plan for you. You get into the villa with a message for his wife, and I’ll have the four denarii for you. After that, I want “ears and eyes” around the town. If you bring me helpful news, I’ll see you’re paid.’
‘No tricks. No
aediles
?’ Sosso said, and I realised that he had worries of his own. Some of his associates were thieves. They could be betrayed to the authorities themselves.
‘None,’ I promised.
He looked at his shoes – my shoes – then at me again. He grunted his favourite question. ‘How much?’
‘I can’t tell you that. I don’t know how much I need to know, or how long this thing will take.’
Sosso stood his ground. ‘No good, citizen. How much?’
I tried again. If I could contrive to pay them by results, I thought, perhaps that would minimise the risk. ‘You find out what you can and come to me each day until the Ides. I’ll see that you get food and a sestertius every time – more if the information helps to get him free.’ It was the best solution I could think of at the time. I prayed that Julia would agree to it.
Sosso shook his head. ‘Food and a sestertius – all right. You get him out – we get half the reward he gives to you. Agreed?’
What could I say? It was unlikely Marcus would be freed. I would be lucky to keep out of jail myself. This might be my only chance. ‘Agreed,’ I muttered.
Sosso spat on one grimy paw and extended it to me. I was still clutching my tattered fur covering to myself, but I freed a hand and grasped his hairy one. I gasped as his powerful fingers crushed my own.
‘Partners!’ Sosso grinned. He seemed to come to life. ‘Lercius! His clothes.’
Lercius put down his bloodied plaything and brought me the bag. I took out my old cloak and looped it round myself like a sort of makeshift robe, then struggled from the covers and fastened on the broken sandals as best I might. I stood up shakily. I looked like a beggar myself, but I was so pleased to have even these tattered clothes that it was some moments before I glanced up at the three men and saw them watching me.
It struck me what strange confederates I had obtained. A rat-faced thief, a half-crazed child, and a lopsided dwarf! It seemed to please them, though. Lercius smiled and nodded cheerfully and even Cornovacus had allowed his face to break into a sort of doubtful grin. Sosso – in my tunic, belt and shoes – was beaming broadest of them all.
Only then did it occur to me that he had planned this outcome all along.
Now that I was dressed – after a fashion anyway – I instantly felt more like myself again. I still moved as slowly and as awkwardly as a badly laden cart, my head ached and I was stiff in every limb, but at least I was on my feet.
I shuffled to the doorway of the hut and peered outside. The early sun had gone behind a cloud and the day was raw and cold. The forest looked unremittingly dark and grey. The hut stood, just as I’d remembered it, in a clearing on a tangled forest path, but in the distance, through the branches, I could glimpse the lane. I knew it well – not the paved thoroughfare which was the military road, but the ancient, rocky cart-track of a lane, vertiginous in parts, which wound its way from Glevum to some ancient settlement, passing the corner of Marcus’s estate where my roundhouse was – or used to be.
I stood leaning on the doorpost for support while I strained my eyes towards the spot. It was a long way away across the trees so I don’t know what I hoped to glimpse – a wisp of smoke perhaps – but there was nothing to be seen. Much nearer to me through the trees, however, a movement caught my eye. There was a figure on the lane. A soldier? For an instant I was seized with fear. I slipped back into the hut and flattened myself against the wall.
‘There’s someone in the lane,’ I said.
The woman put down her task and came to look. She peered intently in the direction I had indicated, but then she relaxed. ‘My husband,’ she said with a laugh.
When I looked again, I realised she was right. The man was hunched and slow, and manoeuvring a little handcart over the ruts and stones.
‘Bringing something on the handcart, by the look of him. Good thing we kept it when we lost the mill,’ she said.
Of course, the kindling-seller had once had a reputable trade before he crushed his hand. I glanced around the tumbled shack again, suddenly aware that this – or worse – might be my fate as well, if things continued as they were. There is no trade without customers, and a man on the run has no workshop where he can exploit his skill. It was not a comfortable thought.
I looked back at the toiling figure in the lane and said, with genuine concern, ‘Poor man. He must have been out in the cold all night – it occurs to me that I’ve been lying on his bed.’ It came to me, though I did not voice the thought, that since he had been conversing with the soldiers at my house he was lucky not to have been arrested himself. He had not even the protection of being a citizen.
The woman smiled thinly. ‘Don’t worry about him, citizen. I’m sure he was warm and safe enough.’
Lercius had jumped up from his grisly task by now and joined us at the door. ‘Of course he was. He spent the night with us.’
I glanced at him. It had not occurred to me to wonder where he and Sosso had been. I had simply taken it for granted that they were creatures of the night.