Junio understood what I could not find words to say. ‘Speaking of herbs,’ he murmured. ‘We had a visitor. Vesperion came here bringing a gift of healing herbs and unguents that they had in store, which Alfredus Allius sent to you, but I had to tell him that he’d come too late.’ His voice wavered for a moment, and I realised how hard Junio, too, was finding this. But he recovered and went on in a calmer tone, ‘He’s gone to tell his owner what has happened here — and he promises some funeral herbs instead. He’ll be back with them as soon as he can collect them, he declares. That is why I roused you when I did.’
‘Vesperion?’ I murmured stupidly.
He took the now-empty drinking cup from me. ‘He will be back quite quickly, Father, if I am any judge. Are you now sufficiently recovered to receive him when he comes?’
I nodded. ‘Help me to my feet. I’ll go to meet him in the outer room. It isn’t seemly to ask him to come into a room of death like this.’ I was a little ashamed of my unmanly show of grief and tried to emulate my son’s example, and be controlled and businesslike. ‘I suppose we’ll have to think of how to purify the shop — and ourselves as well — otherwise people will avoid this place as being cursed and the workshop will be ruined. And news will get about. The tanner’s wife was very kind indeed, but I’m sure she was partly driven by curiosity and the prospect of a thrilling tale to tell.’
Junio extended a strong arm to lean on, and I struggled to my feet. ‘Vesperion promises that his herbs will deal with all the cleansing rituals — they have imported purifying mixtures in their stock, presumably destined for the undertakers and arrangers of public funerals. If Alfredus Allius genuinely makes a gift of those, Minimus will have as fine a send-off as any slave could have.’
‘That would be some comfort to me,’ I allowed. ‘And I’ll find out who did this if it’s the last thing that I do.’ I managed to summon up a rueful smile. ‘As I suppose it might be. The presence of Cacus is the only clue I have — if he did not come into the shop himself, he must know who did. I don’t relish the idea of confronting such a giant, but I’ll have to find him and try to talk to him — though I don’t quite know how. He and his master are no doubt on their way to Isca by this time.’
Junio frowned. ‘Though if they missed the reading of the will, perhaps they’ll linger long enough to lodge a legal challenge with the magistrates.’
That was sensible and I pounced on the idea. ‘It’s possible Alfredus Allius will know — perhaps I’ll go and ask him before I leave the town, but I can hardly do so with my toga in this state.’ I was attempting to straighten the garment as I spoke, but my efforts had the opposite effect. The folds, which had been tending to unwind earlier, were hanging down around me in untidy loops, and there was little for it, but to start again.
Junio put the cup down on the shelf above the fire and came across to help. ‘You think that Cacus was responsible?’ he asked.
I shook a doubtful head. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. It would obviously be no problem for a man of his size and strength — he could have felled little Maximus with a single blow, and wrested the ladder from its restraining cords and tossed it over there with no more effort than it would take for me to squash a fly. But there is quite a lot of blood, as you pointed out to me. I’ve managed to get it on my feet from simply standing there.’ I pointed to my sandal-prints which were clearly visible. ‘You would have thought that Cacus would get it on himself as well, but when I saw him shortly afterwards, his gold-coloured tunic was impeccable.’
‘Which is more than you can say about your toga,’ Junio said, coming across to help me with rearranging it. ‘There are several bloodstains on the hem.’
‘I’ll use it as a winding-sheet for Maximus,’ I said. Legally that was probably a terrible offence — slaves are prohibited from wearing Roman dress. But I no longer cared. It simply seemed appropriate to wrap the boy in something that was mine — and there was nothing else of sufficient size available.
Even Junio was looking slightly shocked.
‘Not for the funeral itself,’ I added, ‘but for when we take him to the roundhouse later on. It won’t look like a toga if we fold it properly — just a piece of woollen cloth. That way we can lay him on the mule with decency, and it will not matter if it gets stained again. I’ll have to send Maxi …’ I trailed off, hopelessly. ‘I’ll have to take it to the fullers for a second time,’ I corrected. ‘But for the moment, help me take it off. I can’t wear it as it is.’ I meant it. I could not bear to think of bearing splashes of my servant’s blood, though that put paid to my calling on the councillor tonight. It would not be proper to call on a curia member in my working clothes. ‘I’ll have to delay calling on Alfredus Allius,’ I said.
‘You can send a message with Vesperion, perhaps, when he comes back again,’ my son replied, helping me to shuffle off my awkward garment as he spoke. ‘Or better still, I’ll go to the west gate and enquire. If they’ve really gone to Isca they’ll have their travelling coach, and Cacus would attract attention anywhere he went. If not, presumably they are still in town.’
I nodded doubtfully. ‘I need to talk to Cacus. He’s the only lead I have — assuming that he was the one the tanner’s servant saw.’
‘Either way, there’s nothing more that you can do today,’ my son went on. ‘It would take too long to trace them and it wouldn’t be proper to abandon Maximus. You’ll have to catch Cacus tomorrow if you can. But when we’ve finished here, we’ll put the body on the mule. It means you have to walk, but there are advantages to that. If I’m quick with my enquiries, I can catch you up.’
I was loath to give up the idea of finding Cacus, but this suggestion was clearly sensible and Junio was right: the first task was to see that Maximus was safely taken home. So with Junio’s help I spread my toga on the floor, and with the greatest care we swaddled the poor dead slave in it.
‘I’ve washed his hands and feet with water from the jug,’ my son said, soberly. ‘The rest of the cleansing will have to wait till we get to the roundhouse later on. All we need now is for Vesperion to come back with … Ah! There’s a knocking now.’
So I went out in my tunic to the outer room and Junio opened the front door of the shop. To my astonishment I saw that there were two men on the step. The old steward was accompanied by Alfredus Allius himself, still wearing the dark toga that I’d seen him in before.
I had recovered something of my wits by now, and was in a slight dilemma about the proper courtesies. The little outer area is a narrow space, where — when the shutters are removed — the open counter looks out on the street: hardly a place in which to receive a curial councillor. The slats had been absent when I first arrived, but had obviously been replaced when Junio left the shop, and not been taken down again since then, so only my son’s taper offered any light — though he busied himself at once with rectifying this and opening the counter to the light of day. That helped a little, as the afternoon streamed in, but there was nowhere I could ask the magistrate to sit except the little three-legged wooden stool which the slave-boys sometimes use when Junio and I are busy on a piece, so they can watch for prospective customers.
What on earth had brought him to a place like this? With some embarrassment I gave a little bow. ‘Citizen, you do too much honour to my humble shop. I fear we’re not equipped to entertain you properly.’
I need not have concerned myself. My visitor waved my apologies aside in a way that Marcus never would have done. ‘Citizen, I’m very sorry to learn that your young slave is dead. And, since you were at my warehouse when the first tidings came, convention and courtesy demands that I should call.’ The councillor had a distinctive flat and nasal voice, and always came close to peer at one with weak, short-sighted eyes. I was glad that we had thought to take the shutters down. ‘One can’t be too careful with the spirits,’ he went on.