My young slave blinked a moment against the sudden gloom, then peered around. ‘Your pardon, citizen,’ he murmured, seeing Alfredus, and bending one knee in an awkward bow, continued, ‘I did not realise that my master was receiving visitors. And in mourning robes, I see.’ He turned to me. ‘Has someone of importance died today? There’s obviously something happening in town. Lots of people wearing dark togas like this citizen, and groups of armed soldiers on guard in every street. I had quite a problem getting through the gates. Had to tell them who my owner was, where I was going and what my errand was, and even then he was not keen to let me pass.’ He turned to me. ‘It was only the mention of His Excellence that changed his mind, I think.’
‘Your message concerns Marcus? There hasn’t been more trouble at the villa since I left?’ The words were almost startled out of me.
Minimus shook his tousled auburn curls, a familiar gesture that made me swallow hard. Maximus had done the selfsame thing a thousand times. ‘Well, it’s good and bad news, master. Mostly good — I think. A letter came by courier from Corinium. We think it said the lady Julia has safely had her child, and both of them are well.’
‘You came all this way to tell me that?’
A breathless nod. ‘I’ve brought you the tablet it was written on so you can check if we are right. The courier took it to the villa first, of course, but there was no one there except Georgicus and he cannot read, so they brought it to the roundhouse and my mistress and the courier did the best they could. The rider claims that the baby is a girl, but I’m not sure if the message mentions that.’ He handed me the tablet from inside his tunic-top. ‘My mistress isn’t quite sure that she deciphered it aright, but she thinks the last line is something you should see.’
I undid the ties that secured the writing block and read the message scratched into the wax. It was written in Julia’s eccentric female hand — no wonder my poor wife had found it hard to read. Much of the spelling was erratic and individual as well, but it did confirm that the newborn was a healthy female child, born on the Kalends of Aprilis, several days ago, and that the mother had survived the birth. But Gwellia was right. The last line was the most important one. There was a spotted fever in Corinium, and Julia was fearful for the baby’s health, so as soon as she and the child were strong enough, she planned to journey back. The message was to alert the household to the plan and ask them to be ready for her imminent return.
‘Dear gods!’ I murmured. Obviously Julia had sent this courier long before my message had arrived. I knew that spotted fever was a dreadful thing — those that it did not kill, it often scarred and blinded dreadfully — and could spread as quickly as a fire. Julia would want to get her children safe as soon as possible, not only her new baby but her little son as well. Yet the villa here could not receive them as it was, bereft of slaves and proper furniture. I could only hope that my message had arrived in time and she was not already on her way. Fortunately my patron had a town apartment too, so she would not find herself without a place to stay — though the slaves there wouldn’t be expecting anyone. I would have to send them word.
However there was a much more pressing problem to be dealt with here. I passed the writing block to Junio, and turned to Minimus. ‘Come here,’ I urged him gently. ‘There’s something I must tell you. You must be very brave. You know what we discovered at the villa earlier?’
He looked at me with frightened eyes and gave a doubtful nod. ‘You mean in the orchard? Before you left me at the vineyard?’ His voice was quivering.
‘I promised then that I would find the men that killed Pauvrissimus,’ I took his hands gently in my own. ‘I’ve got an even stronger reason to try and find them now. You asked if somebody important had died. Well, I’m afraid that’s true. Two important people have been killed. One of them is the Emperor Pertinax himself …’ I squeezed his fingers as I heard him gasp, but he did not interrupt, ‘… which probably explains the soldiers in the streets just now. And the other is someone that the town won’t care about, but is very important indeed to you and me …’
I felt the shuddering breath that shook the little frame. ‘Not … Maximus …?’ he whispered, and I had to signal that it was.
‘This patrician citizen has been very good,’ I said, nodding at our dark-clad visitor and wondering again about his motives for all this. ‘He’s brought the finest funeral herbs that can be had, and arranged for a priest to come and purify the shop — and even a wise woman to bring talismans and cleanse the corpse.’
At the word ‘corpse’ the sobs and tears began. I forgot convention and simply held him close and let him cry.
It was a most unRoman thing for me to do, of course, and I was aware of an awkward little pause. Then Vesperion gave a cough and murmured, ‘Citizen?’ as if to signal that it was time to show a little more propriety.
I glanced around the room, fearing that my behaviour might have caused my visitor offence, but Alfredus Allius seemed a little misty-eyed himself, while Junio had turned away and was deliberately busying himself with setting a new candle on the spike.
‘This old one was guttering,’ he said, defensively, disproving this by using it to light the other wick. ‘And we’ll be needing better light. I think the priest and wise woman are here — did you not hear the knock?’
I hadn’t. I had been too concerned with Minimus, I suppose.
‘I tried to draw your attention to it, citizen,’ Vesperion supplied, and I realised that had been the reason for the cough. ‘And there it is again. Would you like me to go and answer it?’
‘Thank you, steward, I would be glad of that,’ I said. It should have been Minimus’s job to go, of course, now that he was here. But he was clearly in no condition to deal with visitors.
Nonetheless I let go of the boy, who gave his wet cheeks a surreptitious wipe and made a visible effort to control his tears. He came and stood behind me deferentially just as Vesperion ushered in not the little party we were expecting but a woman on her own.
That would have been astonishing enough — respectable women do not generally roam the streets alone — but even more astounding was the way she looked. She was huge, quite the most enormous female I had ever seen. She was not only fairly tall, she was immensely wide, dressed in a long grey Grecian robe that bulged at every seam. Added to that, her feet were sandal-less and her straggling grey hair hung loose down to her waist (or what would have been her waist if she had been less vast). The effect was quite shocking, even when one remembered who she was — only a lunatic or a soothsayer would appear in public dressed like that. She carried a large pail of something in one pudgy hand and smelt strongly — though not unpleasantly — of aniseed and bay.
Her presence seemed to fill my little outer room, which was small and narrow at the best of times. ‘Councillor Alfredus!’ Her voice was as big as she was. And she had not waited to be addressed by him, as any normal matron would have done with someone of his rank. ‘I hear you summoned me.’
‘Ah,’ Alfredus Allius said, in his flat, nasal voice. ‘I see you found the place. Did my servant not come with you? Or has he gone to fetch the priest? I asked him to accompany you to show you where to come. I rather supposed that he would bring you both at once.’ It was a veiled apology, I thought, for having allowed her to walk here on her own.
But the woman simply snorted. ‘A wise woman has no need of slaves to guide her, citizen. I know the citizen Libertus by repute. It would not be difficult to ask my way. Besides, there are piles of cut stone outside the shop — it isn’t hard to work out where the pavement-maker works.’ She turned and looked full into my eyes — something else no other unfamiliar female would do. Her own were disconcerting: they were bluer than the summer sky, but shrewd and sharp with the suggestion of a knowing twinkle in their depths. ‘I imagine you’re the client I’m supposed to help?’ She did not wait for me to answer, but went on, in ringing tones, ‘I’ll give you some rue to chew for protection later on, and find you an amulet to wear to ward off more bad luck. In the meantime there is work to do. Where’s this corpse of yours?’