I stopped at the enclosure entrance and let Minimus get down.
‘You go inside and let your mistress know you’re here. I’ll take this creature to its owner, and then I’ll come myself. And make sure that you take care of those records while I’m gone. I’m going to need to read them overnight so I can report to Marcus before he leaves for Rome.’
I was serious in this. Of course, I knew that there would be no question of investment now — half the warehouse and its contents would be forfeit to the state, once Lucius was legally a fugitive, especially if a charge of raptus — abduction — was entered against him in the courts. And that was possible. The fact that Silvia was a willing victim did not change the case. Alternatively, Marcus as her guardian could decide to let her go without entering a formal plea of rape — and in so doing ratify the match.
But whether Marcus chose to recognize their union as a legal one or not, it would be a year before a usus marriage would apply. In the meantime he would still have governance over her estate (one reason why I doubted that he’d try to bring her back) so my business information might be useful in the end. He might yet want to find a buyer for her share of everything — even if Lucius’s portion had been forfeited.
Minimus had dropped a number of the scrolls in getting off the mule and he was busily engaged in gathering them up when there was a cry of ‘Master!’ from behind the palisade and Maximus came running out into the lane. I allowed him to greet me and then I sent him on to help pick up the scrolls. ‘Tell your mistress that I shall be hungry by and by,’ I called, and leaving them to it, I rode off down the lane.
Arlina seemed a lot livelier with a smaller load and it was not long before we reached the farm. Once at the gate I slipped down from my seat — or more accurately, I lumbered down, keeping my balance by leaning on the wall — and was about to enter when I heard a voice.
‘Citizen? You have returned more quickly than I thought.’ It was Cantalarius, who was raking hay into the enclosure where the mules were kept. I noticed that the second mule was looking better fed. I was about to say so, when he put away the rake (a sorry object made of iron nails, hammered roughly through a piece of wood and attached to a handle, though it seemed to serve) and came across to meet me at the gate. He wiped both grubby hands on the sacking round his waist and held one out to me. ‘I hope Arlina has been satisfactory? Did you succeed in finding that missing councillor?’
‘Half of him at any rate,’ I said, and was interested to notice that he turned deathly pale. Encouraged by that visible response I said remorselessly, ‘Rather like that ancient priest who promised to come here.’ I was suddenly convinced that Cantalarius knew more about that incident than he’d been telling me.
I had been rather hoping to surprise him into speech but, though he was clearly shaken, he said nothing more, except, ‘Well I’m glad you found the mule to be of use.’
He took the halter from me and led Arlina into the enclosure with the other animal, where — while murmuring endearments in her ear — he removed the harness and put it in the stone hut as before. Then he smacked her on the rump to urge her off towards the hay. By the time he had joined me and shut the gate again, she had already shouldered her companion to one side and was munching happily.
‘Was there something else that I can do to help you, citizen?’
I was startled at the question, although — of course, since I had already paid him for the hire — there was really nothing further that should detain me here. However, I was unwilling to leave him without one more attempt to find out what he knew about the body in the pond. Besides, I’d grown unreasonably fond of his stupid, plucky, self-willed animal.
So I said slowly, ‘Well, I shall come to you again, if I require a mule.’ I was struck by inspiration. ‘Could we come to some more permanent arrangement, possibly? I couldn’t continue to pay you at that rate all the time — but if I were to have her, say, once or twice a month? Could some sort of deal be arrived at, do you think?’
He looked at me suspiciously, but then seemed to conclude that I was serious. He heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Well, I use the mules a lot myself, but I can’t pretend I’d not be glad of a bit of regular income of that kind. Perhaps you’d better come into the house. Though give me a moment to prepare my wife. She’s busy cooking dinner and plucking a dead goose — since we lost the slaves she has to do that sort of work herself — so she’ll be all covered in feathers, and not prepared for visitors.’
I nodded. My own wife, Gwellia, would have felt the same. ‘I’ll follow at a distance,’ I told him, and I did. It was only yesterday that I’d been here last, but already the farm was looking less forlorn. The milder weather had allowed the stock to come outside and I could see half a dozen hungry-looking sheep cropping the thin grass in the nearer field, and there was a thin goat tied up in the corner of the yard, while a few bedraggled geese and chickens pecked among the flags. The barn door was half-open as I passed, and when I looked inside I could see the slave mute inside, forking straw about, and there was feed stuff in the manger baskets on the wall. Cantalarius had clearly put my aureus to use.
The slave looked up and saw me and waved a clumsy hand, making a sort of formless roar I took to mean, ‘Hello.’
I shouted ‘Greetings!’ and went on to the house, though the mean-faced mongrel bared its ugly teeth at me and growled. It was tied up to a post beside the empty shrine and it could not reach me, so I did not greatly care.
Cantalarius came bustling out as I approached, bearing two stools and a pitcher full of wine. ‘Sit down for a moment. My wife will soon be here. She says she has some flatbread baking on the fire and we have some soft-curd cheese that we can offer you.’
‘You are very kind,’ I muttered, though I was not keen. I have eaten that kind of home-made cheese before — thin and sour, like scarcely curdled whey. I’d come to prefer the firmer kind the Romans liked — Gwellia had learned to make it when she was a slave. It involved a lot of arcane processes — straining, rinsing, pressing, drying and the gods know what — but it was well worth the effort and she was proud of it. I couldn’t imagine that Gitta would make a cheese like that.
I was right. When a moment later she came hurrying out, in a clean green tunic which she’d clearly just put on, she was carrying a pan with runny curds in it, and a bowl containing a steaming hunk of bread. She too was looking better than she had done yesterday: her face was more composed, the wild hair drawn back in a tidy plait, and the simple cut and colour of her robe showed off her tall form and her shapely legs. I could see why Cantalarius was so attached to her.
She set the foodstuffs down beside us on the ground. ‘I’ll fetch a knife and bowls for you,’ she said. ‘And a pair of goblets so you can drink the wine.’ She gave me a doubtful smile. ‘Cantalarius tells me that you have a proposition to discuss and that you want to hire the mule again? I gather it was useful to you yesterday.’
‘Indispensable,’ I told her heartily. ‘You knew that I was searching for a missing councillor? Well he was found this morning, or half of him was at least.’
I had said it in the hope of provoking some response, but I could have not guessed how effective it would be. She dropped the spoon that she was holding and made a dash at me, pummelling my chest and arms with both her fists. ‘How dare you, citizen! You can’t come blaming Cantalarius for that one, too! He hasn’t left the farm since you came here yesterday — except to buy some hay and foodstuffs from a trader at the gate. He’s been here with me and Sordinus all the time.’ Every syllable was punctuated by a blow, each strong enough to bruise.
I caught her hands and held them, though she tried to struggle free. She was quite athletic and I had to hold her hard, putting one arm around her waist to pinion her, while she attempted to continue her attack. I was quite breathless with the effort, but I contrived to say over my shoulder, to Cantalarius, ‘So after all you did not pay the money-lender back?’