A Coin for the Ferryman

Chapter Twenty-three

It was a good deal quieter once inside the gates, so I walked a little way, then stood to one side of the thoroughfare and waited for Niveus to come back.

He didn’t appear. I waited longer, wishing — again — I had a purse with me. I had enjoyed my little meal of bread and cheese, but the smells from the hot-pie sellers passing in the street — and even from the hot-soup stall nearby — were reminding me that I hadn’t eaten much.

Still Niveus didn’t come. I would give him a proper scolding when he did, I thought. Trust him to be caught up in the excitement of a passing chase, and just abandon me! Junio would never have left me on my own like this.

People were beginning to turn and stare at me — the man with the handcart in particular, since he’d been forced to let me through, and here I was standing stock-still in his way. I craned, trying to pick the page out in the crowd beneath the arch. Pity he wasn’t wearing his crimson uniform, I thought — and realised suddenly why Marcus always chose that striking colour for his private messengers.

I stepped up on to the pavement to get a better view — good Roman pavements are always a little raised, so that pedestrians can walk dry-shod above the level of rainwater and mud and the inevitable traces of passing animals — though Glevum was not too bad in that regard. An urchin came round the colonia every day, collecting up the sweepings to sell to farmers round about. I could see him busy in the distance now, armed with a home-made handcart and a battered spade. It was a sign that business was nearly over for the day.

There was still no sign of Niveus. I cursed myself for having let him slip away from me like that — though, in truth, I could hardly have prevented him. I was just wondering how I should proceed — whether to go and find the slaves’ guild now, or whether to stop and hunt for Niveus — when the question was answered for me in a surprising way.

The fat guard from the gateway came shouldering through the crowd, standing on tiptoe to look up and down the street. When he caught sight of me, his face relaxed and he came over to me self-importantly.

‘I am sent to find you, citizen, and take you to the gatehouse as soon as possible. You are Libertus the pavement-maker, I believe?’

I indicated — rather nervously — that this was the case. ‘My patron is Marcus Aurelius Septimus,’ I added, making it clear that I could call on powerful protection and support. I learned long ago that it was always wise to mention this, especially where the military was concerned. ‘In fact, I brought a letter from him to the commander of the guard.’ I was sincerely wishing that I’d taken charge of it myself, and not left it in the page’s custody.

The guard’s next words made me wish it even more. ‘I don’t see any letter in your possession, citizen.’

‘My attendant had it — he’s delivering it now. I thought that he had given it to you.’ It sounded feeble, and I knew it did.

He grinned, a little grimly. ‘That’s interesting, citizen. I’m glad you told me that. We’ve got someone in custody who’s known to be His Excellence’s slave — and did deliver a letter with his seal on it — but is now claiming your protection and saying you’ll pay the costs.’

I groaned. What expense had Niveus got me into now? Broken eggs or something, probably, and no means to pay. Well, I hadn’t either. I had come without a purse — I was not expecting to be in the town today. Perhaps I could borrow something from the councillor who was asked to take me back — if I could get that request delivered before it was too late.

‘Niveus was bringing you that note on my behalf,’ I said. ‘Perhaps you could make sure. .’ I tailed off in surprise. The fat guard was shaking his grizzled head at me.

‘Not as I understand it, citizen,’ he said, ‘and Niveus is not the name he gave, as I recall. You wouldn’t call him snowy anyway, from what I’ve seen of him — though there was another boy who answered that description, I suppose. He was the one who told us that we could find you here.’ He was tapping his baton on his palm now, in a gesture which reminded me of Marcus very much. ‘I don’t know who our prisoner is, but you come along with me and you will soon find out.’

I was still pondering. It wasn’t Pulchrus — he’d gone overseas. Could it be the messenger who’d come from Rome that day? He’d brought a letter to Glevum under seal, and it was just possible he hadn’t left the town. But I’d never met him — why should he ask for me? I didn’t like the sound of this at all. ‘I’m waiting for my attendant,’ I began. ‘And I have pressing business in the town. .’

He tucked his baton in his belt and drew his dagger out instead. ‘I don’t want to have to threaten, citizen, but the commander wants you now.’ He puffed out his cheeks like a self-important frog. ‘He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and nor do I, with all respect. I’m supposed to be off duty — they’ve relieved me at the gate — but they sent me because I recognised the description the boy gave, and was daft enough to say I’d seen you when they asked. So, if you would be so good as to come along with me at once? I think that would be best — for both of us, don’t you?’ He ran his finger down the edge of the blade, as if to let me know that it was very sharp.

I know a veiled threat when I see one, and this wasn’t very veiled. I swallowed and then nodded. ‘Lead the way then, guard.’

He did not permit me to follow him, of course — he took up his place behind me and walked me towards the gate, keeping his drawn dagger in the region of my back. He didn’t touch me, but I knew that it was there. I was effectively a prisoner, and people knew it too. I was aware of pointing fingers and furtive whispering. ‘Under arrest! I wonder what he’s done.’ I heard a burst of laughter. ‘And him a citizen!’

It was humiliating, but it did have one effect: people melted back at once to let us pass. Fortunate perhaps — if we’d been jostled, I’d have run into the blade — but it is a phenomenon that I have seen before. When someone is being marched to the garrison under Roman guard, everyone gives him as much space as possible — as though his fate might be contagious, like the plague, or leprosy. It wasn’t long before we got back to the gate.

It was dark and cool inside the guardhouse, as it always is, though there were candles burning in sconces on the walls. We did not pause in the guardroom as I’d expected to; instead my escort gestured with his dagger up the stairs to where the garrison commander had his room. I was to see the most important officer in town.

He rose to meet me as I came in: a tall, rangy, athletic-looking man with a lined and weathered face, and the general appearance of a shrewd intelligence. His armour shone so you could see your face in it.

I glanced around. A bare room, furnished with a table and a stool, with the shadowy statue of a deity on the far wall. A pile of scrolls and scraps of folded bark showed that he had been working on letters when we arrived. No comforts except an oil lamp and a flask of wine. The commander of the garrison had always been austere.

The fat guard snapped to a salute. ‘In the name of His Imperial Divinity. .’ he began, but his superior brushed all that aside.

‘Citizen Libertus? I think we’ve met before.’ His voice was cool but courteous and his eyes were sharp.

I nodded. ‘In the service of my patron, Marcus Septimus,’ I said, getting that important name in as early as I could. ‘I was privileged to help him with a problem he had.’

The commander smiled. ‘So I recollect. In fact he was here a little earlier — with your adopted son — asking some questions on your behalf, he said. So perhaps you can resolve another little problem we have here.’ He nodded to the fat guard. ‘Bring the young man in.’

I heard the hobnailed sandals go clattering down the stairs, and a little afterwards come clattering up again accompanied by softer footfalls, which proved to belong to. .

‘Minimus!’ I exclaimed.

The commander of the garrison looked stonily at him. ‘You admit that you know this boy then, citizen? There seems to be some doubt about whose slave he really is. One moment he claims to be in Marcus’s employ, bringing letters which are fastened with His Excellence’s seal, and the next he is causing a rumpus in the streets, and insisting that he belongs to you.’ He came round the table as he spoke, and, pushing back the styluses and seal-wax and pots of octopus ink, squatted on the edge and looked very hard at me.

‘It’s really very simple.’ I was burbling. I thought I understood what had occurred, by now. ‘He is in the service of my patron, but he’s been loaned to me — there’s another one as well, a snowy-headed one, who came into town with me. The one who gave you my description, I believe. I’d just sent him on an errand when the horse went past. I think that Niveus saw that it was Minimus and tried to make him stop. .’

The commander raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Not because he had been robbing the market stall, you mean?’

‘Stealing?’ I was horrified. Only a few years ago, theft by a slave was a capital offence, and even now it often meant a sentence to the mines. I could not believe that Minimus would be so foolish as to take the risk, and I was about to protest on his behalf, but when I glanced towards him the words died on my lips. He was pink and guiltily staring at the floor, the very personification of discomfiture.

‘He can hardly deny it. They found him with the goods. We brought you here to see if you would intervene on his behalf.’ The officer was clearly doing his very best for me — and for my patron at the same time, of course. The usual treatment for a thief was very different.

Minimus gave me a shamefaced, sideways look. ‘I’m very sorry, master, but I didn’t mean to steal. I thought I had a contract for borrowing the things. I even left my leather belt behind, as surety for her.’

‘A belt which by your own admission is not even yours. It’s simply part of your villa uniform, and therefore belongs to your owner — not to you!’ The officer was sharp.

Minimus had no reply to this. He went back to examining his sandal straps again.

I looked at the commander. He raised his brows at me. ‘He does claim he made a promise to bring the asking price, if his master found the goods were satisfactory.’

I nodded in relief. Such an arrangement is not unusual, when a slave is sent to negotiate a purchase on his owner’s behalf — the more so if the owner is a well-known wealthy man, and has not actually seen the goods himself. ‘But surely, if he was acting on His Excellence’s behalf, any stall-holder would be happy to agree to such a thing?’ I assumed it was Marcus the boy was acting for — I hadn’t asked him to buy me anything.

The shrewd eyes were boring into me. ‘Exactly so, my friend. So it comes as rather a surprise that the moment that he mentioned it, the woman changed her mind.’

‘We had an agreement. .’ Minimus began, but a jerk from the fat guard silenced him at once.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘But they did have a legal arrangement, didn’t they?’ And then I realised. ‘Oh, I see. She claims that the verbal contract has no force in law, because he is a slave?’

‘I see you understand. She suddenly declared that it was null and void. But he had the goods by then, and. .’ He waved a languid hand. ‘She tried to stop him, but he rode away.’

‘I saw a group of people giving chase,’ I said. ‘Of course I didn’t realise then it was Minimus on the horse.’

‘She called on some other stall-holders to help. She obviously couldn’t run fast enough herself. They didn’t catch up with him until he’d gone through the gates — I don’t think that they would have stopped him even then, if that child hadn’t darted out and clutched the horse’s tail.’

The boy looked ruefully at me. ‘I slowed down because I heard someone call my name. It was Niveus, of course, and once he’d taken hold I couldn’t gallop off and drag him down the lanes.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, citizen. I didn’t mean to bring this trouble on us all.’

The commander quelled him with a single look. I was to be treated with a certain courtesy, but the favour did not extend to slaves.

‘So he was arrested?’ I said, finally.

‘That’s the funny thing. At first the woman didn’t seem to want to make a charge — until we threatened to flog her for falsely claiming to be robbed. As I said, she now accuses him of theft. And you know what the punishment for that is apt to be?’ He gave me a half-smile which reminded me that he was on my side — thanks to Marcus, as I had no doubt. ‘Unless you are prepared to act on his behalf, confirm that he was acting as your agent in all this, and that any penalty should be referred to you?’

My spirits sank. I knew what this would mean. A fine was the standard penalty for petty theft, when it applied freemen and citizens. Fourfold restitution was the standard rate — and no doubt the woman would quote the highest asking price. Of course, I’d not mandated Minimus to purchase anything, but I could not see him sentenced to the mines on my account.

I sighed. Whatever this famous item was, it would cost me very dear. I only hoped that it was worth the price.

‘He was acting on my mandate,’ I said reluctantly. ‘I agree to formal liability for any debt or fine. Though I too will have to ask for a delay. I have come to Glevum without my purse.’

The commander nodded. ‘Then we shall have the woman in, and see if she consents — all three parties must agree, of course — and if she does, we’ll let this fellow go.’ He got to his feet. ‘Soldier, go and fetch her.’

The fat guard was looking rather sourly at me, as if this outcome had disappointed him. He clearly felt aggrieved that he was still on duty, and not in the barracks enjoying his weak wine and army stew. But he said, ‘At once, sir,’ and set off down the stairs.

The commander had turned his back on us to return to his stool, so I took the opportunity to mouth at Minimus, ‘What was it?’

He just had time to answer silently, ‘Tunic!’ before the guard came in again, with the plump puffing woman I’d seen before.