The steward had been listening to all this and he stepped forward, doubtfully. ‘That couldn’t have been the bottom half of this one, I suppose? Pardon if I am speaking out of turn.’
‘I don’t think so, steward. That corpse was very fresh. The priest was seen alive and well the night before, but I’m fairly sure that this one has been dead some time — the flesh has got a faintly greenish tinge — though probably it didn’t happen here. I don’t believe this body has been here very long.’
‘What makes you say that, citizen?’ The steward was surprised. ‘We heard he had been missing for half a moon or so and that he’d probably fallen off his horse and killed himself. Surely no one would bother to move his corpse about.’
‘It might not have occurred to me,’ I said, ‘if our party hadn’t found the body of an ancient crone today, in the part of the forest we were searching in. Sad business — she’d obviously been dead some little time, though very well-preserved. But she was also several inches underneath the snow. Yet Genialis was only “almost buried” — by your own account — and “half-submerged in leaves”. That’s obviously true; I can see what you have moved from round the corpse.’ I stooped and ran a little through my fingers. ‘Loose leaves with softish snow mixed into it. Yet it has been snowing hard and freezing since the day he disappeared.’
‘But not the last three days or so,’ the steward pointed out. ‘There’s been quite a thaw — it might have melted round him, I suppose.’
‘In that case, he would partially have thawed as well and there would be much more putrefaction than there is. Let me take a closer look.’
Adonisius stood beside me as I knelt beside the corpse, obviously electing himself my second in command. ‘Then perhaps he hasn’t been dead for very long?’ he offered, thoughtfully. ‘I suppose it’s possible that he was set upon. Dragged from his horse, perhaps, and shut away somewhere. Maybe they were hoping for a ransom, but he died — leaving them with an inconvenient corpse, which they disposed of recently by bringing it out here?’
I shook my head. ‘And drew attention to themselves by cutting it in half? That does not sound plausible to me. Besides, as I say, it’s clear that he’s been dead some little time.’
‘So, do you think this is somehow connected to the priest?’
‘I suppose it must be, though I can’t see how. I suppose that also happened in unfrequented wood. And there’s another thing. It is quite clear what the crone was doing, off the beaten track — she was collecting wood. But what would bring Genialis so far from the road?’
‘Lost his direction in the snow, perhaps?’ the steward said. ‘Or perhaps he was dragged here by some animal — we know that there are hungry wolves about. We’ve heard them several times while we’ve been searching in the woods.’
I looked up at him. ‘Those are not gnaw marks — that looks like an axe.’ I brushed the few remaining leaves away and examined what remained of Genialis with more care.
It was not a pleasant task. He had been a well-fed and unlovely man in life; in death he was frankly horrible. The plump face was white and bloodless, though with that faint greenish suggestion of decay, and it was frozen in a look of agonized surprise. The eyes were closed but they were still disquieting, as if they might suddenly open in a terrible blank stare. His rigid arms were clamped across his chest as stiffly as two spears and his torso simply ended in a jagged cut as though a market butcher had been at work, although his toga, cloak and tunic appeared to be intact, and were drawn up in muddy, filthy folds around his waist. Strangely — apart from smudges on his clothes — there was not much blood on him.
But something appeared to be adhering to his hair, and to his cloak and shoulders when I examined them: tiny wisps of something coarse and brown. I reached out a doubtful hand and contrived to pick up a tiny piece. I rubbed it between my fingers then had a sniff at it. ‘Hessian, by Juno!’ I exclaimed aloud. ‘I do believe his head’s been in a sack.’
‘Perhaps he was imprisoned by whoever stole his purse,’ said Adonisius, now kneeling at my side. ‘And look!’ He was pointing to the empty loop that still dangled from the belt. ‘Someone stole his purse. It’s not unknown for bandits to tie their victims up and put a bag around their heads — so that they can’t see their attackers and testify against the culprits afterwards.’
I nodded doubtfully. ‘Perhaps it is the obvious answer after all. Maybe there really is a half-crazed thief abroad who chops up his victims when he’s done with them and stuffs them in a ditch. If the heads were missing I would have thought of Druids — but this is something different and much more sinister.’ I dusted down my hands and attempted to stand up.
Adonisius reached out a hand to assist me to my feet. ‘Then we must warn the town watch and garrison. If this is some kind of madman, then it’s imperative he’s caught.’
‘I suppose so,’ I conceded. I turned to the steward. ‘Have your men wrap up the body and put it on the cart. You could even begin to offer a lament.’
The slave looked flustered. ‘Well, I just hope that we don’t have to ride with him! Unless our master sends another wagon out for us, I’m going to walk to town — I don’t want to share the journey with half a murdered man. It’s bad enough disturbing his corpse like this at all — I hear he was a stickler for the proper dignities in life — but to put him in a slave cart is another thing again. His ghost is likely to be walking anyway, seeking revenge on whoever chopped him up. You never know what harm …’
Adonisius interrupted him. ‘There is no need to worry. If I am not mistaken, here is Bernadus now.’ He gestured down the lane where a cloaked horseman and a mounted page had just come into sight.
It was indeed Bernadus, on a splendid horse, even more splendidly attired in an impressive dark-blue hooded cloak and leather boots. He rode easily for a stoutish man, and drew up beside me with almost as much elegance as the mounted page who had accompanied him.
‘Citizen Libertus! Hail Caesar Pertinax!’ he murmured, holding out a hand in greeting, but not troubling to dismount. ‘They told me you were here. Where is this body — I hear that it’s been found?’
I stood aside to let him see the place and he trotted his horse closer to peer into the ditch. One glance, however, appeared to be enough. He turned away, his face the same green colour as the dead man’s skin.
‘Dear gods! Nobody told me that there was only half of it. What have I agreed to! Still, it’s too late now. I sent to Silvia to say I’m taking it — and I suppose I’d better do as I arranged. I’ll have to find some funeral herbs to dress it with.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Lucius might have some — he imports that sort of thing. In the meantime I suppose we’d better take the body on the cart.’
‘You could send a funeral litter,’ I told him earnestly. ‘Make it the first thing that you do, when you return to town, and leave these slaves to keep a vigil here meanwhile. The funeral directors will carry him for you — they provide their own embalming herbs and women who’ll lay out the corpse as well. They even have professional mourners who will keep up a lament and they’ll arrange the pyre and everything. It would be expensive — especially sending them out here to get the corpse — but I imagine that’s what Silvia would prefer. Though no doubt you’ll want to check the final details with her, and discuss arrangements for the memorial feast?’
He turned towards me with a grateful smile. ‘Thank you, citizen. I’m glad of your advice. I’ve never had to plan a funeral myself — my elder brother always does that sort of thing. You are quite right. I’ll go to town at once, and try to make contact with the lady Silvia. I imagine that she will be on her way back to town from Marcus’s by now. And I ought to talk to Lucius, perhaps.’
‘I’ll call on Lucius for you, if you like. But then I must go and find my patron straightaway. He’ll be on his way to Glevum as we speak, I’m sure, but if he has not got to his apartment by the time I call, I’ll take my slave and try to intercept him on the road … I’ll let them know what you intend to do, and no doubt they will find you at your villa later on.’