At the mention of a corpse I sensed Minimus stiffen at my back, and realised that he was close to tears again, but all the same there was something in her brisk enquiry which made me feel that we were now in skilled and able hands. ‘Through here,’ I told her, and went to lead the way into the inner room.
She shook her head. ‘Not you. I’ll take the younger citizen and the old slave with me. You’ll have another visitor — and very soon — and it’s bad luck for us to be disturbed before the corpse is fully cleansed. Besides, it is forbidden for a priest to see the body of the dead.’
‘Maximus has been washed and wrapped already,’ Junio ventured, in a tone that was unusually meek. The woman’s forcefulness was clearly starting to affect him too.
‘Only with water from the well, though, I presume?’ she said, dismissively. ‘That’s a useful start, but I’ve brought running water from the spring.’ She reached into her pail and produced a little stoppered jug. ‘Much more efficacious in a case like this. I’ve picked fresh herbs as well, as you can see, to ward off any curse. And here’s a little bag of earth to sprinkle on him afterwards to give him the ritual symbol of a burial. It’s a lot of ceremony for a simple slave, I know, but that’s what is required to give a murder victim rest.’
I boggled at her. ‘How did you know that this was murder?’
She withered me with those deep blue eyes of hers. ‘Citizen, I am a wise woman and noted for my skills — did you not expect that I would know? Now, you and you …’ She gestured at Vesperion and my son. ‘Come rub these bay leaves on your hands …’ She shook the pail at them, and they sheepishly obeyed. ‘That will keep the victim’s spirit from pursuing you and demanding that you avenge this death. So follow me and you can help me with the ritual. And you …’ she turned to Minimus ‘… can guard the door. Don’t let anybody come in while we’re at work — just wait out here for us. It won’t take very long, and when we’ve finished and the body’s wrapped again the priest can come and purify the room.’
And without a further glance at Alfredus or myself, she led the way into the inner room and shut the door.
Alfredus gazed after her with admiring eyes. ‘Isn’t she a wonder? She thinks of everything. You notice that she even goes barefoot, so that there is no knot around her person where evil ghosts might lurk? You’re in safe hands with her. She’ll purify the corpse and make sure the spirit of your slave can rest.’
I nodded. It was a good deal more than Marcus’s household slaves were going to get, even with the services of the Funeral Guild.
‘And she has psychic powers,’ the councillor went on. ‘See how she found her way here without assistance from my slave — and knew that this was murder without a word from you.’
‘I expect she met the woman from the tannery next door, who told her so,’ I said, remembering that I’d seen my neighbour hovering in the street. ‘She knew the truth and she would love to spread a little gossip of that kind.’
But Alfredus was not to be convinced. ‘I tell you, the wise woman is a wonder, citizen,’ he said, in that peculiar monotone of his. ‘She cleansed my warehouse perfectly. I’d had the priest, of course — the same one who is coming here today — but nothing went right until she took a hand. I’ve started consulting her every day or so. I’m sure that’s why the business is now prospering. And everything she’d told me has turned out to be true. She even predicted there’d be a death today.’
I looked at him with dawning realisation. ‘She told you to come here?’
‘Not directly, citizen, of course. She simply told me that if I heard about a death today — of any person and of any rank — I must avert ill fortune by engaging her at once. That could not apply to Publius or the Emperor, of course, so I knew it had to be your slave.’
So that explained his presence at my shop and the unnatural generosity towards my slave! I smiled, amused by the shrewd simplicity of the woman’s stratagem and offered a mental apology to my visitor for having doubted his sincerity.
Alfredus saw the smile. ‘I wonder you don’t ask her who it was that killed your slave. It may be she could cast the stones for you, as well, if you have an aureus or two to spare.’
An aureus is a lot of money, even for a wealthy citizen like the councillor. For somebody like me, it is an awesome sum — and not one I am likely to expend on doubtful sorcery. ‘You think the stones will tell her, too, who robbed my patron and murdered all his slaves?’ I said, trying to keep derision from my tone. ‘I hardly think so, councillor. Anyone who could genuinely offer knowledge of that kind would be regularly called upon to testify in court, and would be very lucky to survive once guilty people got to hear about her skills.’
Alfredus looked at me indulgently. ‘You don’t believe her powers? Wait until you get your talisman and see.’
I did not press the point. I was glad to have the woman’s services in laying out poor little Maximus. It’s acknowledged that the process is best done by female hands, and I did not doubt the woman’s skill with herbs and cleansing rituals. And her presence was welcome for another reason, too. If the tanner’s wife had seen her coming here, as I surmised, the news would swiftly spread — so much the better for the reputation of the shop. Potential customers would have no fear of coming here again once it was generally known that a proper herb woman had attended to the corpse and there was no risk of meeting any vengeful ghosts.
So I smiled at the councillor and was saying, ‘I’m quite sure she …’ when there was another tapping at the outside door.
‘There you are,’ Alfredus said, triumphantly. ‘She said there’d be another visitor, and so there is.’
I desisted from reminding him that he himself had told her that the priest was on the way. Instead I ordered Minimus to go and let him in.
It was indeed the priest. He seemed to be an acolyte of Mars or Mercury, an aging man with skin as white as marble and as dry as bark-paper, framed by a fringe of thin white hair and eyebrows of a terrifying size. One of those supported by the temple, I presumed — too old and frail to officiate at public rites again for fear of making errors in the proper rituals, but still available for hire for private rites. He was accompanied by the little slave I’d seen with Alfredus Allius on the street.
The boy seemed ready to come into the room, but Alfredus ordered him to wait outside. ‘There are too many people in here as it is,’ he said, ‘And until the rite is over, this is a house of death.’
The boy turned pale and hurried out again.
The priest inclined his head. ‘I hope you will be good enough to spare him later on to guide me to the villa that I’m to deal with next.’ His voice was high and piping like a child’s, but he exuded a certain dignity.
‘Of course!’
‘I’ll need his help to carry extra items for that ritual, as well. It will require more than the simple consecrated elements that I’m using here — salt and spelt and water — to pacify the cultus geniali after what happened at that unhappy house. The spirits of the family won’t be pacified with less than the full ritual with oil, scent and smoke and the sacrifice of several doves, at least.’ He pulled up his toga folds to form a hood. ‘So there is much to do, and not much time to do it in. I believe you have the herbs that we require?’
‘People are dealing with the body as we speak,’ I said, fetching down the casket from its safe place on the shelf. I was in the act of handing it to him when the woman surprised us all by coming in again — alone — her bucket of equipment in her hand.