I looked at little Minimus. ‘And that would be enough?’
‘They wouldn’t question it, if I instructed them — though it might occasion giggles, I’m afraid. But they know the boy is acting as your eyes and ears, and that’s sufficient to ensure that they keep working while we are away.’
‘But I’m just a humble tradesman!’ I protested with a smile. ‘My rank would hardly count for anything.’
He shrugged. A little uncomfortably, I thought. ‘You have a sort of reputation as a spy, snooping round for Marcus while he is away, and determined to find something to report.’ He gave me a sheepish smile. ‘My fault, citizen. I fear I haven’t talked of you with very much respect.’
I looked him in the eye. ‘And I, in turn, have underestimated you. You’ve shown a real concern about your men which I applaud. I was once a slave myself. So shall we, like warring generals with a common enemy, forget our differences and declare a kind of truce?’
He looked away. I saw him hesitate. ‘You? A slave? I’d not imagined that!’
I nodded. ‘Seized by pirates and sold into slavery. My master bequeathed me freedom when he died, together with the rank of citizen. That, after all, is how I gained my name: Libertus, “the freed one”, as no doubt you know. You may call me that in future, when we two are alone.’ I grasped his forearm and shook it heartily, as the Romans do. ‘And you must tell me what they call you, too.’
‘I would not dare be so familiar as to call you by your name,’ he protested, colouring, and extracting himself from the handshake with embarrassment. ‘But I am Georgicus. You can imagine why.’
I could. The word means ‘agricultural’, and it rather suited him. I noted, though, that he had not responded well to my suggestion that we might forget our differences. ‘Well, Georgicus,’ I said, trying to pretend that I did not feel rebuffed, ‘give your slaves their orders and I’ll do the same with mine, and we’ll go down to the villa and decide what’s to be done.’
SEVEN
Minimus was almost beside himself with pride at being put ‘in charge’ and for the first time since we’d found Pauvrissimus, I saw a fleeting smile. We left my small slave standing where Georgicus had been, preening like a young patrician at his new-found role and staring round the field with a proprietary air — though any of his temporary charges could have lifted him one-handed if they had chosen to. However, his borrowed authority seemed to be enough and they turned back to their tasks without a word.
So we left him to it. We had urgent business of our own. In fact, in the interests of getting to the villa as fast as possible, I suggested to Georgicus that he could ride with me, sitting in front as Minimus had done, though it would have been a tight fit for us and a heavier burden for poor Arlina than I’d generally have liked. But the chief land-slave brushed the thought aside.
‘It will be faster for us, citizen, if I run beside the mule,’ he said, and as if to prove the point he set off at a trot — so fast that, by the time I’d climbed onto the creature’s back, it took me minutes to catch up with him. Indeed, he was very nearly at the villa gates before I shambled up beside him on my mount
He raised his head to greet me but he did not slacken pace. ‘Ah, Citizen Libertus! I am glad you’ve caught me up. I was not looking forward to going in there alone.’
I shouted my agreement. ‘Better if we keep together while we’re there, I think. It will take me a moment to tie this creature up, so I’ll go on ahead and wait for you outside.’
I did not have to wait. I had no sooner tethered up the mule than Georgicus came loping smoothly down the lane. He had been running by this time for better than a mile, but he seemed scarcely out of breath. No wonder that he boasted of how fit the land-slaves were. Without my mule, I could never have kept pace. But I refused to be abashed. Considering what awaited us within the walls, and the fact that the killer (or killers) might still be nearby, there was a certain consolation in having someone with me who had strength and stamina.
He padded up beside me. ‘No sign of my other land-slaves anywhere about,’ he said. ‘I suppose you noticed that?’
I hadn’t, but I didn’t tell him that. ‘They should have been in sight?’
‘There should have been several working in the fields back there — though not close to the villa, as I said before. But I could not see them where they should have been.’ He raised a brow at me. ‘Another little mystery, citizen, for you to solve.’ The tone was courteous but there was something in the eyes which hinted a little at ridicule.
I affected not to notice. ‘Then in we go!’ I said, with a pretence at heartiness, and pushed the gates open as I had done before. ‘We’ll start with the gatehouse, I suggest.’
But Georgicus, behind me, had halted in his tracks. ‘Dear gods and all the spirits of the underworld! This is how you found the gates? Unbolted and unbarred?’ He saw my nod and made a little grimace of astonishment. ‘Of course — you told me you’d got in without the assistance of the gatekeeper. But I’d not imagined this. Not even really latched! You did not tell me that.’ He pursed his lips. ‘Marcus would have had somebody flayed for less!’
‘I know!’ I murmured. ‘It seems whoever came here simply pulled them shut, so a casual passer-by would not see anything amiss.’
‘And that tells you something, does it, citizen?’ It was a challenge, though perfectly polite.
‘Unfortunately not. Except that they had the leisure to do so as they left. Obviously they could not bolt them from outside. Although,’ I added, as a thought occurred to me, ‘it might give us grounds to hope that they have not come back. If they were here now, they would doubtless have relocked them from within.’
But he was hardly listening. He was bending over, examining the gates. ‘These bars and bolts aren’t damaged. You see what that must mean? They did not force an entry. Someone let them in.’
I nodded. ‘I had come to that conclusion, anyway,’ I said. ‘I think they came here, as the letter said they would, and loaded up their wagons with items from the house. No doubt assisted by the steward and the domestic staff.’
He raised an eyebrow at me. ‘By Mercury, they must be clever — if you’re right! And no doubt dangerous. Be careful, citizen before you get involved.’
There was that curious timbre in his voice again. Was he mocking me? I glanced at him sharply. ‘And what about yourself? Aren’t you planning to be “involved” in this, as well?’
He shrugged. ‘I have no option. I’m a slave of Marcus’s and in the absence of the household steward, I suppose I’m senior now. It is my duty to discover what’s happened to my owner’s property, including the murdered servants. They were valuable things. But it’s not the same for you. No one could blame you if you simply left me here and went and reported this to the authorities.’
‘I’m involved already,’ I told him. ‘I’ve promised Minimus I’ll find out who it was that killed Pauvrissimus, and I have a duty to my patron too. So it looks as if we’re working together over this, my friend.’
‘Friend?’ He sketched an imitation bow. ‘I’m honoured that you think to call me so. But I am hardly that. We are of different ranks. I know my place, I hope. However, it is my duty to help you if I can, though no doubt you are quite capable of solving this yourself. My master has often boasted of your skills with problems of this kind. You can provide the intellect, perhaps, and I’ll provide the brawn.’
There was that touch of mockery again. ‘There’s nothing the matter with your intellect,’ I murmured guardedly, pulling the gates closed behind us as I spoke, ‘you’re obviously observant. You noticed instantly that the locks had not been forced.’ It sounded patronising, so I added hurriedly, ‘So come into the gatehouse cell and tell me what you think.’