That put me in a slight dilemma, naturally. Now I was more or less obliged to wait and pass the message on, but Vesperion was nowhere to be seen and I was in a hurry on my own account. Then it occurred to me that I could write it down — the steward was as literate as I was myself and there was chalk-stone on the desk. I was in the act of sitting down to scratch a note when the door flew open and the spotty slave came in.
He did not trouble with the usual courtesies, but burst out breathlessly, ‘There’s someone asking round the docks for you. A youngish tradesman, by the look of it. He says it’s urgent that he talks with you, but Vesperion said I had to ask you first. Thought that he’d be interrupting a private interview, but I see the fellow in the fancy cloak has gone.’
‘He said to tell you that he didn’t want the wine.’ I gestured to the tray. ‘Perhaps he did not enjoy the sample that you sent.’
The boy picked up the glass and sniffed at it. ‘He should have done — it is the best we have.’
I should have been flattered, since it was meant for me, but my mind was too busy with other things to pursue the thought. Who was this ‘youngish’ tradesman who’d come to look for me? It wasn’t Junio, surely — he had taken Tenuis to the guild and had promised to look after the workshop afterwards. But I could not think of anybody else who knew that I was here.
‘Well, I’d better see this visitor,’ I said.
‘You want to stay here in the office?’ The slave picked up the tray. ‘I don’t know if that is convenient. Vesperion will be wanting to get in here later on. There’s lots of new goods to be entered up.’ He paused as the old steward appeared in person at the door. ‘But I suppose that it’ll be all right, if you’re not very long.’
I turned to Vesperion. ‘I gather there is a visitor for me — though I don’t know who it is. It seems that he has urgent news. May I use this record room a little longer, so that we can talk?’
Vesperion looked startled. ‘But of course you can, citizen. I don’t know what my owner would say otherwise. He always says he owes you everything. Sit down on that better stool and the house-slave will bring you another jug of wine. And another drinking cup for master Junio.’ He turned to the spotty slave who was staring at us like a landed fish. ‘Don’t goggle at me, boy. He’s only in a workman’s tunic, but he’s a citizen — just like his adopted father here.’
The slave-boy gave him an astonished look, and trotted off at once.
I was quite as astounded as the spotty slave had been. Junio! So it was him, after all! What by all the immortals was he doing here? I was about to ask the steward what he knew, but before I could utter a single word there was an urgent rapping at the door and Junio himself was standing there.
‘I apologise for coming in here unannounced,’ he said, in a peculiar voice. ‘But I had to see my father.’ He was obviously agitated, and as he came over to where I was sitting at the desk, and so into the better light the little candle threw, I could see that his face was white and tense and his eyes were filled with tears. ‘Father,’ he said, ‘you’d better come at once. It’s little Maximus. There’s been some sort of accident. I am afraid he’s badly hurt.’
NINETEEN
‘Maximus? Accident?’ I repeated stupidly, scrambling to my feet. The day, which had been terrible so far, was fast becoming worse. ‘What’s happened? Where is he? Is he going to be all right?’
They were idiotic questions, as I realised instantly. Of course, if this had been a trivial affair, Junio would never have come rushing halfway across the town to find me here and he would never normally burst in before he was announced. Obviously this was something serious. And if he knew what caused the accident he’d have told me straight away. I braced myself, ready for a harrowing account.
But Junio said nothing, simply shook his head. That was more alarming than graphic description would have been.
‘Great Jupiter!’ I cried. I found that I had seized my son by both his upper arms, hard enough to make him wince. ‘Don’t tell me that he’s dead.’
Junio gently disengaged himself, but if I hoped for reassurance he could not offer it. ‘Not quite, when I left him — but he may be close to it. I found him on the workshop floor when I got back. It looks as if he’d tumbled down the attic stairs — though what he was doing up there I cannot begin to guess. It looks as if the ladder had moved away from him and he was lying in a crumpled heap. He’s clearly hurt his head. I tried to rouse him, but he did not stir, and I could find no sign of life. I had to hold a polished mirror to his lips to see that there was any breath at all.’
‘And you left him lying there?’ Another stupid question. What else could he have done?
But Junio shook his head. ‘Not unattended, Father — at least not for any longer than I could avoid. I made him as comfortable as I could, then rushed next door and fetched the tanner’s wife. She wasn’t very gracious but she agreed to come, and when she saw what had happened to the boy she changed her attitude. Sent me round to fetch a couple of their slaves to help. When I left she had them warming water on the fire and fetching soft cloth and healing herbs to wash the wound, and strong wine to dribble in his mouth.’ He made a despairing gesture with his hands. ‘I even offered an oblation of it on the household shrine in the hope of invoking the mercy of the gods, so everything that could be done is being done for him. But I’m not sure how successful it will be. I think you should come as quickly as you can.’
I was almost too shaken to think of anything, but the habits of courtesy enabled me to say, ‘Excuse me, steward, but you will realise that this requires my presence at my workshop instantly. So pardon me, and thank you for the offer of the wine but — like Commemoratus — I really cannot stay.’
Vesperion waved my apologies aside. He was already leading the way out onto the quay. ‘Never mind Commemoratus. He means nothing to me, despite the flattering name. But I’m sorry to hear about your troubles, citizen. If it’s in my power to help at all, send word to me and I’ll do anything I can. I’m sure my owner would agree at once — I’ll tell him what’s happened as soon as he arrives. He thinks most highly of you, as I think you know, and if we have any useful herbs or unguents in store, I know he’d be glad to make a gift of some.’
This unexpected kindness took me by surprise. Perhaps it was the sudden brightness of the day after the gloom of the interior — I am not in general a sentimental man — but I found my eyes were watering and I had to blink them hard. I swallowed the lump that was rising in my throat, managed to murmur, ‘Thank you, Vesperion — and farewell, for now,’ and followed Junio out onto the dock.
The quayside was still very crowded, much to my surprise, despite the previous orders from the soldiers to disperse. Those who remained had homes or business here, perhaps, or simply worked the ships — though most of the unloading activity had ceased. Groups of people stood in sullen huddles here and there, murmuring discontentedly about the forced delay. My mind was so concerned with Maximus that I might not have noticed what surrounded me, except that several muttering clusters were standing in our path, and we were attracting vicious whispers and suspicious looks as we attempted to weave our way towards the major road.
‘Where do you think you’re going, citizen?’ one of the captains called. ‘Planning to escape the town before they slap this new tax on us all?’ The shouts and cheers that greeted this emboldened him, and he came and stood directly in our way. ‘I shouldn’t bother to try and run away. The tax collector will find you in the end.’