The Fateful Day (23 page)

Behind Commemoratus another man appeared. In this light it was difficult to see, but he was clearly younger – and as Festus had declared – his skin was pasty white. And he was burly – almost big enough to be a gatekeeper. But the wise woman was right – in his striped toga and elaborate cloak I would never have recognised the hunched amanuensis that I’d seen at work.

‘Citizen Libertus!’ His voice was dangerous. ‘I told my brother we should have killed you straight away. I’ve heard so much about you from your patron that I knew at once that you were dangerous. If we’d only run you over when we met you on the lane … But my brother wasn’t sure that it was you at all.’

‘And you did not want to draw attention to yourselves by leaving corpses on the road,’ I said. ‘Your intention was to disappear. No one was ever going to look for you – you were supposed to be among the dead. And you almost got away with it. If I hadn’t happened by, it would have been tonight, at least, before the bodies of the slaves were found. And no one would make a connection with a Druid grove.’ I saw a flicker of surprise. ‘Of course, you did not know that some children found your so-called sacred oak while they were collecting firewood today. Unfortunate for you. You must have hoped that by the time the heads were found they would be so decayed that nobody would recognise the features anyway. As it is …’

‘I told you we should have burnt those stupid heads.’ Commemoratus turned on his brother angrily.

‘And I told you to bring Libertus back out to our own villa where we could dispose of him. I knew he would bring trouble if we let him live.’

‘I did my best. I couldn’t help it if he wasn’t at his workshop when I called. And you did no better – you went to find him afterwards, and all you did was kill a slave!’

I felt myself go pale. ‘It was you who killed him! And now I’ve proof of it! Your brother has admitted it in front of witnesses.’

The huge form of Cacus detached itself from the surrounding shadows. ‘What witnesses are these? Who do you think is going to live to tell the tale? Don’t stop me, master – this is the only way. It was such a perfect plan. By the time the deeds were known you would be far away – and we made sure you had an alibi for every incident. Whatever people thought, there was not the slightest proof. And no one knew your brother was involved – the amanuensis was dead, apparently. You had got the gold and we would all have got away – even selling Marcus’s own treasures with the house. It was perfect vengeance for what they did to you.’

‘No vengeance is enough. Justice would never bring my other brother back,’ his owner said.

‘So you devised a symbolic vengeance of your own – by hanging that poor gatekeeper?’ I said. ‘Hanging, as your brother had once hanged, in the front entrance to your own house – is that right?’

‘You may be clever,’ the younger brother cried. ‘But that won’t save you now. Let me have this one, Cacus – you can kill the rest – but I’ll slit his throat with that same knife his servant tried to use on me. On me!!! Because I asked him what his master knew – and then he wouldn’t tell me, though I shook him till his teeth were rattling in his silly little head. Even then he got away and went up the ladder like the fool he was – and after that it wasn’t difficult.’ He laughed, a crazy laugh that made my blood run cold. ‘And now we’ll see his master follow him.’

He made a lunge towards me and I saw the knife blade gleam. He was a big man, big enough to change clothes with a gatekeeper – far too big for me to stand a chance. I closed my eyes and tried, as a last resort, to decide which way to jump. There was a sudden rushing from between my legs, and I sat down heavily just in time to see a small form hurtle at my assailant’s knees. They buckled under him, and the man came tumbling down on top of me. I just had time to grasp his arm and force the knife away – and realise that the blood that covered me was not my own at all.

I rolled aside and let the body tumble down the stairs. It made a dreadful noise and a still more dreadful mess. I heard the taverna owner shrieking in the street, ‘Send for the town watch! The army! Anyone!’

I looked up, expecting to find an angry Cacus bearing down on me. But to my surprise the slave was backing off. The scruffy-looking soldier that I’d seen on the quay was holding Commemoratus in a practised lock with a drawn dagger pointed at his throat.

‘One move from you and the patrician’s dead,’ he snarled. Cacus looked uncertain. It seemed ridiculous. He could have smashed the soldier with a single blow – but his master would have died, and some ancient loyalty prevented him.

‘Take that, you horrible great man!’ That was Livia, furnished with the plank of broken wood. She raised it high and brought it down with force – not on the giant’s head, but on his crotch. Cacus doubled up and moaned in pain.

After that, things seemed to happen all at once. Several of the customers who had been watching this – not certain what was happening, but happy to join in – overpowered Cacus and bound him with a chain. Then, summoned by the shrieking, the town watch arrived, and shortly afterwards two soldiers hurried in, demanding to know what the disturbance was.

Alfredus Allius – who had hobbled to safety in the cubicle – reappeared and ordered the arrest of the Egidius brothers and their slave. He would personally bring a case against them in the courts, citing the crimes of theft and unlawful servicide – for both of which there were substantial fines – and wearing a patrician toga without entitlement. The amanuensis, as he afterwards explained to me, had sold himself to slavery and not bought his freedom back – obviously, since he was apparently a corpse – and therefore had forfeited the right to Roman dress. For a slave to wear a toga was a capital offence.

It wasn’t important. The erstwhile amenuensis slave was dead and the knife that had killed him was my patron’s own. It had been stolen from my workshop after Maximus was killed – for wielding that same knife in my defence. I had the concrete proof that I’d been looking for that the younger brother had been the killer of my slave. Between them, the watch and soldiers took the body off, and marched the others off to custody,

When they had gone, the girls came creeping down – including Livia. I slipped her the coins I had promised her. ‘It’s thanks to you I found them here at all. You told my son that Cacus and his master were inside.’

She shook her head. ‘I said, “You’ll find Cacus and his masters in there” – meaning both of them. Your son misunderstood. But everybody in the house knows what has happened now, and several of the “customers” will bear witness to the facts if you’ve a few more spare sesterces to encourage them!’

I nodded. ‘That could be arranged. And here’s another coin for you if you’ll take a message for me to an apartment in the town. It’s over the wine shop near the public baths – the biggest apartment, anyone will know it. Tell the slaves their mistress will be returning soon, and I’ll send a more detailed message later on.’

She tried the coin with her teeth and, satisfied, she hurried off with it and the taverna owner and his slaves began to clear up the blood. Alfredus was still talking to a member of the watch, who had stopped to take a statement and preferred the councillor. He was talking animatedly about the trouble in the town and how the soldiers subdued the crowd and were guarding every street.

I sighed. I clearly wasn’t needed here. I called to Minimus, who was winded but otherwise unhurt, and with the aid of old Vesperion I got him to the gate, put him on the mule in front of me again, and took him slowly home through the encroaching dark.

W
e cremated little Maximus next day, and I gave him a simple funeral, burying his ashes by the enclosure fence. It was a small affair compared to the enormous pyre which Georgicus had made next door for the Funeral Guild to use and which filled the air with acrid smoke for several hours. I did succeed in sending word to him in time and the heads were added to the fire before it died, so Marcus’s household had as good a funeral as could have been arranged.

I did not attend the trial of Egidius, though I was willing to – Alfredus, as a curial magistrate, was a more impressive witness than I could have been, and he had a financial stake in the affair. The outcome was predictable, of course. Egidius was exiled again for having planned my death and arranged the robbery, and his goods were confiscated to pay the fines and compensation that he owed. I don’t know what became of Cacus – he would have had a less official trial. The tanner’s wife tells me that they sent him to the mines instead of executing him, on the grounds that he was following his master’s orders all the time.

A little of the fine-money should have come to me in compensation for the loss of Maximus, but Julia – who had received my courier in time – offered to provide another slave instead, and leave it to Marcus to meet the bill for it when he returns (which won’t be very long: he’s sent word that he’s already on his way). It was the least that she could do to repay me for my help, she told me warmly when she and her children did arrive in town. Marcus would want to reward me much more handsomely, she thought (though I was less convinced) but in the meantime I could have the choice of any slave available.

Naturally I selected Tenuis. He knew nothing of the duties of a household slave, but he is young enough to learn and pathetically grateful that I’ve chosen him. He’s only been with me half a moon or so, but he’s already filling out now that he is getting sufficient food to eat, and he’s promising to be a sturdy little chap and helpful with the chores. Soon I’ll have to teach him how to help me dress. Minimus liked him from the start, and Gwellia – though she grumbles at his childish carelessness – is growing fond of him.

But soon I may be able to buy her another slave as well – for her own personal use. My peculiar talisman may have brought me luck. Alfredus Allius is convinced of it. I had a meeting with him and Scipio only yesterday. The court held that the purchase of the Egidius house was still a valid one. The formal contract that Egidius had sworn so publicly could not be overturned, and though the furniture and Marcus’s effects were returned to their rightful owner without recompense, the house (together with the travelling carriage) is Scipio’s.

He’s had the wise woman and the priest to cleanse the villa of its ghosts and offered me a contract to replace the floors. The fee will keep my little family for a year or more, so – despite the troubles which rocked the Empire on that fateful day – I, at least, have some small cause to celebrate.