Dark Omens (24 page)

Holding the light aloft, I thanked him heartily and picked my way with care through the scattered debris on the steps and down towards my borrowed servant, now waiting in the square.

B
y the time we reached my workshop it was very late indeed. It had taken us a little time to get past the sentry at the northern gate – there was a warning out to apprehend anyone suspected of being rioters – and I felt that we were lucky to escape without finding ourselves locked up in the prison overnight.

Minimus had evidently been sitting up on watch, waiting to hear me come, and almost before I had time to knock the door, he had come out to unlock it and was ushering us in. He was quite reproachful as he took my cloak, more so than his status would properly allow.

‘Master!’ he cried. ‘I have been terribly alarmed. I went out to close the shutters and I saw the smoke, and then a pie-seller went by and told me that there was a fire and people had been injured in a riot. I dared not leave the shop to look for you, but I was getting anxious that you had not come. I feared you had been hurt.’

Adonisius was looking rather scandalized at this familiarity, so I said hastily, ‘Thank you, Minimus, for your kind concern. The fire delayed us, but we are unscathed. However this poor slave, who was escorting me, was coerced into carrying buckets for an hour to quench the blaze. I’m sure we could find him something warm to drink before we send him home?’

Minimus looked flattered by the ‘we’. ‘I’ve got some hot mead, Master. It was awaiting your return.’ He led the way into the inner shop, where a cheerful blaze was crackling in the hearth and the smoke of several candles hung thickly in the air. The smell of hot spiced mead was rising from a pot beside the fire and a sleeping blanket had been set out on the floor for me. Never had my workshop seemed more welcoming.

Adonisius seemed to think so, too. When Minimus had brought out an extra stool and drinking bowl for him, and he was sitting by the fire sipping the hot, sweet liquid gratefully, he cast an approving glance around the room.

‘When I get my freedom, this is what I’d like. A little cosy place to call my own, where I could earn a living and sleep snug and warm at night. Perhaps, in time, I could even have a slave to wait on me.’ He smiled to show that this was not said bitterly.

‘You have a trade?’ I asked him. Most freed slaves don’t dream of being shopkeepers.

‘I could be an amanuensis or a clerk, perhaps. I can read and write and use an abacus. It’s one of the things that Genialis bought me for. Though in the end he rarely called on me for that. I have some skill with horses and he preferred to have me ride as escort everywhere.’

‘I thought that chiefly you were his personal slave,’ I said.

He stared into his mead as if he did not wish to meet my eyes. ‘After a fashion, citizen. Several of us used to help him wash and dress, but I had special extra duties, as I expect you’ve heard, since he made no secret of the fact. Duties which I hated – but of course I had no choice. I shouldn’t expect to make a living out of that.’

Now it was my turn to stare into my cup, heartily wishing I’d never raised the subject of what his skills might be. I’ve never shared the Romans’ casual attitude to having sexual pets. ‘You expect to get your freedom very soon?’ I said, anxious to turn the talk to something else.

A delighted smile lit the handsome face. ‘At least I now believe that it is possible. Genialis used to promise all the time, but every time I saved my slave price he’d increase the sum – saying I’d grown in value and would cost more to replace. But now Silvia and Lucius have sworn that I’ll be freed, as soon as his estate is sorted out. I was publicly assigned to Silvia while my master was alive, so I will pass to her – and she’ll let me purchase freedom, at a price we have agreed.’

‘Assuming Genialis turns out to be dead,’ I pointed out.

He gave a rueful laugh. ‘Of course – although at this stage that is probable, I think. It’s been too long for him to have been sheltering anywhere, and a man can’t live for long out in the open in the snow.’ He drained the cup and put the vessel down. ‘However, the search for him will be continuing at dawn and I believe I’m taking part. If I don’t hurry home, I shall get no sleep at all. Thank you for your hospitality.’ He nodded at Minimus. ‘And I admire your slave – perhaps someday, when I acquire the means, we might discuss a price?’

I cocked an eye at him, raising my drinking vessel in salute. ‘I hope you find a slave that pleases you, but I’m afraid that Minimus is not for sale. Not at any time.’ I realized that I’d sounded rather sharp and softened my blank refusal with a grin. ‘Where would I find another slave who knows my eccentricities so well?’

Minimus, of course, had been listening throughout and he was grinning like a toad as he took a taper from the bench and led the visitor outside. I heard him bolt the outer door, but by the time that he’d returned I had finished off my mead and was preparing to curl up on my blanket on the floor.

‘Thank you, Master, for what you said just now! It’s pleasing, of course, to think he wanted me, but I’d hate you to sell me to anybody else!’ he murmured, setting the candle on the bench again and kneeling to remove the sandals from my feet.

‘Well blow out the light, then, before I change my mind!’ I said gruffly, and he did as he was told, leaving merely the warm glow of the fire as he settled down himself.

Whether it was the excitement of the day or simply the effects of too much mead, I cannot say, but despite the hardness of the floor I slipped at once into oblivion. In fact I slept so soundly that I knew nothing more until I raised my head and realized that there was a tapping at the door.

I half-raised myself to instruct Minimus to answer it, but found that he was no longer lying at my side. In fact, he must have risen quite a time ago. He had already poked the fire into life and taken down the shutters at the window space, which were letting in the cold grey light of dawn. I struggled to my feet and called his name aloud.

‘I am here, Master, in the outer shop. There’s someone at the door.’ Even as he answered I heard him open it.

‘Is your owner ready? I am sent to fetch him for the search.’ I did not instantly recognize the voice. I was expecting Adonisius, but this clearly wasn’t him, though it was a speaker I was sure I’d heard before.

I did not have long to puzzle over this, as a moment later the two of them came in and I recognized Pistis, the pimply, sulky slave I’d seen with Lucius – whom I had mentally nicknamed Pustulus. He was swathed from head to foot in an outsize woollen cloak and his feet were wrapped against the cold with binding rags. In one hand he was carrying a sack and in the other a couple of long pointed poles.

‘Are you ready to come with us, citizen?’ He looked even more sullen than he’d done yesterday.

‘I won’t be a moment,’ I said untruthfully, reaching for my own cape and sandals to put on. ‘I was rather late last night. I think there is some bread and cheese I didn’t eat?’

Minimus had already fetched it and was handing it to me. ‘You ought to have a warm drink, Master, before you leave the house. I’ll put some wine to warm. And you should do as he has done and bind rags around your feet. It will still be freezing underfoot, and if you’re in the forest there will be standing snow.’

‘There is no need for that,’ the sulky one put in. ‘My master sent you these.’ He thrust his hand into the sack and drew out what looked like a pair of untreated leather bags. ‘You put them on your feet and pull the drawstring tight. A trick he learned from his trading contacts from the north. And these –’ he produced another, smaller pair – ‘Are for your hands. They’re made of rabbit skin and still have fur inside.’

I had heard of rabbits though I’d never tasted one – they were an expensive delicacy shipped direct from the Hispanic provinces for the benefit of wealthy legionaries who’d enjoyed them there, which no doubt explained where Lucius had acquired these skins. Although I had never seen the living animal, I had some notion that they resembled goats. However, when I slipped the garments on, I realized why the creatures fetched so high a price and why some people took such pains to try to breed them here. The skins alone would be a luxury; they were as soft as kid and wonderfully silky in their furriness.

I was reluctant to take the mittens off again, but I removed them to gulp the wine which Minimus had warmed and splash a little water on my face and beard. Then I quickly put them on again, and said to my new escort, ‘You can lead the way.’

Pustulus nodded and led me to the street, but skinny little Minimus was too quick for him. He made a point slipping of past and opening the door. ‘Don’t worry, Master, I will mind the shop. And I’ll see that there is more than bread and cheese for you tonight.’

I turned to smile at him. ‘And I’ll try not to be home so late!’ I said.

Beside me, I distinctly heard a bitter sigh. ‘Well, I won’t keep you on the streets all night,’ my companion muttered, as we made our way towards the northern gate. ‘I don’t know what that Adonisius was thinking of – going to the forum when he wasn’t ordered to, and getting mixed up in a public riot. Keeping the master waiting for hours after dark – so much so that he gave up in the end and went to bed.’ He gave a short, affronted sniff. ‘If I had been so late, I’d have certainly been flogged – but not Adonisius. Oh, great Minerva, not a bit of it! He can do no wrong it seems.’

I glanced sideways at the sullen face. ‘Lucius is only a freeman, after all,’ I pointed out. ‘He could hardly whip the servant of a wealthy citizen. Adonisius still officially belongs to Genialis, doesn’t he?’

‘I suppose that’s true,’ he answered grudgingly. ‘Or to Silvia at least. Though you’d never think so from the way my master talks to him – more like a trusted steward than a borrowed slave. Today, for instance, he’s excused from coming out with us – at least at first; there’s a guest expected and my master wants him at hand to serve. I tried to protest – after all I am the household slave – and do you know what Lucius said? That Adonisius hadn’t managed to complete his chores last night, and this way he could see to them as well. I would have been expected to stay up and finish them, even if it meant I didn’t get to bed.’

‘You do not care for Adonisius?’ I said, and saw him hesitate. ‘I was a slave myself,’ I went on carefully, ‘and I know from experience how awkward it can be, when some temporary incomer becomes a favourite.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not for me to speak against my master,’ he replied. ‘But it does seem maddening – promising to help him find his slave price instantly, when I have served the house for years, and no one ever mentioned doing that for me. I shall be like poor old Vesperion, I expect – kept on till I’m too old to be use to anyone, then forced to beg for the doubtful privilege of going on working to survive, for a pittance entirely at my master’s charity.’

It was said with such resentment that I could think of no reply, and for a few moments we simply stomped along, my clumsy foot gloves squelching in the mud and melting snow – though they certainly succeeded in keeping out the wet. I was about to ask a question regarding Silvia, and whether Pustulus had met her when she was Ulpius’s wife, but by this time we’d reached the junction with the northern road, where the promised cart was waiting by the tombs.

Pustulus waved an airy hand at it. ‘Here you are. My master’s vehicle. He has put it and the driver at the service of the search. Would you prefer to sit in front beside the carter, or in the back with us? They’ll make a space for you, though I’m afraid we’re only slaves and it won’t be very dignified for someone of your rank. Some of them belong to your patron I believe. Perhaps you already know them?’

I peered into the cart and found that there were several that I recognized from Marcus’s apartment in the town. There was a lot of whispering and nudging when they saw that it was me – they had not forgotten the last time that we’d met, when I was virtually a prisoner in the flat and had made that undignified escape.

Perhaps it was embarrassment that prompted me to say, ‘I need not trouble you to squash up in the cart. I have my own transport – I have hired a mule, though it’s in the hiring stables on the southern side of town. I will go and get it, and ride out after you. I know which way you’re going, and if you travel slowly, I should catch you up.’

The driver grunted, clearly displeased at this idea, and there was a stifled giggle from his passengers.

‘The mule will give me freedom to go home straight away if anything is found.’ I looked at the grinning faces in the cart, and added slyly, ‘After all, I am a citizen-client of his Excellence and my patron will be awaiting my report.’

That sobered them. The grins had disappeared. The driver turned to me. ‘As you suggest, citizen, of course. I’ll drive on as slowly as I can, until we reach the area where we mean to search. If you haven’t caught us up by then, I’ll leave a slave to wait where we turn off, to show you exactly which way to go next. We’re heading for the forest but once we’ve left the military road you should be able to follow the cart tracks in the snow.’

‘Very well!’ I told him, and watched them drive away.

I
t did not really take me very long to fetch the mule. Of course, it was by now half an hour past dawn, so the gates were open and the whole colonia was waking for the day. An enterprising tradesman had set up a booth inside the arch, selling leafy garlands and strips of cloth on which the legend ‘Long Live the Emperor Pertinax’ had been daubed, and was already doing a brisk trade with visitors. Otherwise the town appeared as usual. Shopkeepers were busy sweeping down their slushy frontages, taking shutters down or laying their goods out on the freshly cleared pavement in the hope of attracting passing customers. Two slaves were struggling to the fuller’s with a brimming urine pot, and the first street vendors were hollering their wares: ‘Fresh milk!’ ‘Hot pies. Finest horsemeat. Cheapest in the town!’ But there were hardly any other pedestrians as yet, and it was possible to walk quickly through the streets – though I did encounter a little flock of geese, being driven towards the market to be killed and sold.