A Pattern of Blood

Chapter Twenty-six

Rollo’s was a simple funeral. The guild had provided mourners and a drum player, and Julia had given permission for the two slaves who had worked with the page most closely to attend this ritual, instead of joining the procession for Quintus or staying home to prepare the funeral feast. And Junio came with me, so the page was not altogether unlamented.

There were four bodies altogether. In a town the size of Corinium there are always some deaths among the slave population. We were the third house, so by the time we entered the street there must have been a dozen followers altogether. The bodies were carried out on stretchers and placed on wooden biers — clumsily carved and heavy, but more gilded and ornate than Quintus’s own. It had come on to drizzle again.

The guild had built a pyre, a long way outside the town — necessarily, since proximity to the gates is a sign of status. The bodies were laid upon it, with decent reverence, and the grave gifts offered to the gods, though I noted that the litters were carefully retained. There was a flowery speech by one of the guild members, about the qualities of a good servant, and then the priest — an old man, inclined to ramble and probably cheap — but a genuine priest all the same — made the offerings and lit the pyre. They had put fat on it to make it burn, and it did so fiercely.

The drummer entertained us while the flames burned down, and then the remains were sprinkled with wine and water — rather an indecent quantity of water, I thought. The ashes were collected into urns, and buried before they were fairly cool. The neck of each amphora was left above the earth, so that the guild could feed the spirits of the dead.

It would have been difficult, I thought, to work out quite which bit of ash was which, but we made our offering in front of what I thought was mostly Rollo and I went dispiritedly home. The guild had provided a supper, but it appeared that there was to be only one dish, stewed river eels and barley, which I have never liked. Even then it would be accompanied by fish pickle — probably the cheap variety, at that, made from jellyfish instead of anchovies, but tasting just as dreadful. As the only Roman citizen present, I felt I could decently forgo the pleasure, especially since I was already beginning to regret my turnips.

The house was almost empty when we returned; there were only a few servants setting up lamps and couches for the expected feast. I borrowed a taper and, leaving Junio in my room, went up to the attics to see Sollers.

I was glad I had my candle, because he was sitting in the dark. He had managed to take his boot off, despite his bound hands, and his foot — in the flickering light — looked sadly swollen. He looked at me in silence for a moment.

‘What brings you here? A desire to mock me?’

‘Mock you, no. But I would like to hear, from your own lips, what it was that made you do it. A man with such skill and intellect. You did not need to stoop to this. Surely, it can’t have been for money.’

‘Oh, but it could, citizen. Of course I had no thought of it at first. But when Quintus was attacked and stabbed, and I began to tend him for his wounds, he started to talk of rewards. A sizeable sum, he said, and a pension. Of course, I was living in comfort, I could have waited for that. But then that wretched Rollo put it all in jeopardy. He found out about my treatment of Julia, and he could never keep his mouth shut. It was only a matter of time before he told his master, and then I risked losing everything. Quintus would have been horrified that we had deceived him.’

‘But you did not plan to kill Rollo?’

He shook his head. ‘I thought of it at one time, but by then the damage was done. Half the household knew, so if there were enquiries, it was bound to emerge eventually. So when I discovered that Maximilian had arranged that robbery, I saw a different opportunity. I could make it appear that he had murdered his father. I would get my inheritance. I might even have married Julia. I think she would have had me. Money, position and Julia. It was worth gambling for.’

‘How did you discover that Maximilian had arranged the robbery?’

‘Maximilian is a fool. He has not even the wit to hide his foolishness. I heard him haggling with some scoundrel at the gates about the price of silence on “bribing the soothsayer on the night of the robbery”. It did not take me long to work out what that meant.’

‘So you found the soothsayer and silenced her? Brought back Quintus’s purse and left it in Maximilian’s room for me to find?’

He did not bother to deny it. ‘I speeded her end, that was all. She was dying anyway. I may have saved her suffering.’

‘Yes, I noticed that you touched the corpse, although you forbade any of us to do so. I guessed it was not infection that killed her. Poor woman, she was a fortune-teller, but she didn’t foresee that.’

He laughed mirthlessly. ‘Perhaps I should have taken her advice, all the same. Left the decurion’s house and found another woman. That was supposed to be my destiny.’ He looked at me. ‘Perhaps it was, in a strange way. I left the decurion’s house today, and found her. So now it will be execution for me? Tied bleeding to a post in the arena and left to the dogs? Or at best, a lingering death in the galleys or the mines?’

I did not answer. There was nothing I could say. He knew the penalties as well as I did.

‘My foot is swollen, citizen, and it is painful too. I shall pay for what I did, but is it necessary to make me suffer this as well? There is a jar in my room. You will find it on the top shelf behind the table. There is no label. It is a powerful remedy in cases like this. Will you not send it to me?’

I swallowed. I knew what he was asking. For a moment I was tempted. Roman law is savage. I should not see his suffering, but I knew that the image of it would haunt me all my life.

I looked at him. ‘Farewell, medicus. I wish that I could help you as you ask. You were a fine surgeon.’

He turned his face away, and I left him.

That was all. I went downstairs with a heavy heart.

The funeral party was just returning. Marcus was in the atrium, and I caught him before he went into the feast. Before we had the time to exchange a word, Julia saw me with him and came forward, giving me one of her glowing smiles. ‘Libertus, citizen. You must please join us at the feast. And Sollers too — I am surprised he did not come to the funeral, but Marcus says that he has hurt his leg.’ I glanced at Marcus.

My patron nodded.

I took a deep breath. ‘I regret, lady, that I have fearful news. Sollers will not be coming to the feast. We have found your husband’s murderer.’

She gazed at me. ‘You mean. .?’ She was paler than her tunic. ‘And he killed Rollo, too?’

I nodded. Gently, I outlined the whole sorry story.

‘Oh, Great Minerva, this is terrible.’ She sank down on a stool and buried her head in her hands.

‘Not quite so dreadful, lady.’ I tried to console her. ‘Of course you are upset that Sollers betrayed your trust. But he will do it no longer. At least you can sleep peacefully in your bed, knowing that the killer is under lock and key.’

She shook her head. ‘He was good to me. He cured my inflammation, and he kept my secret. He protected me from Flavius, too.’

I looked at her. So beautiful and vulnerable, so hurt and betrayed. Of course, she was vain and flirtatious, and sometimes wilful too — she had deceived both of her husbands. But there was no malice in her. And there was the little question of a dowry, too. She didn’t need a legal sponsor, she needed a husband.

I cleared my throat.

‘Flavius will not molest you,’ Marcus said. ‘I give you my word on that. And I will protect your interests in the court. We do not want a querela brought against the terms of Quintus’s will, just because Sollers cannot inherit. The governor will give me his support in that, especially once I tell him that I have solved this mystery. He was worried about the message on that wax tablet. I shall write him a full explanation when I send Sollers to him with the guards tomorrow.’

About how he had solved the mystery, I thought. Such were the advantages of rank. There were others too.

‘You are most generous, Excellence.’ Julia glowed at him. ‘How can I thank you?’

He smiled. ‘We will find a way.’

I was like Mutuus, I thought. Entertaining thoughts above my station. It was time I stopped dreaming and got back to thinking about Gwellia.

Julia was still gazing at Marcus. ‘We must talk about this later, Excellence. In the meantime, may I see Sollers, one last time? I feel I owe him that.’

‘But he was a murderer,’ Marcus said.

‘He was a great surgeon. Without him, Quintus would have been blind, and I. . well, I would have problems still.’ She lowered her eyelids at him. ‘I shall not be long. In the meantime, there are guests arriving. Would you, dear Marcus, help Maximilian receive them? There will have to be sacrifices too — Sollers would have seen to it for me.’

Marcus looked flattered. ‘I. . of course I will.’

I smiled. The handmaidens were wrong. Julia did organise her household. Very skilfully indeed.

Julia glowed at him. ‘Thank you, dear sponsor. And thank you for finding out the truth. And you too, Libertus. I have not forgotten my promise. I shall commission a pavement from you for the hot room. The design of it, at least. In memory of my husband. Forty denarii, what do you say?’

That was an offer of a real contract, at last. ‘A simple design, lady, as you suggested. With blood red, I think, in the border. But I shall have to ask my patron.’ Though doubtless, I thought, if I did design a pavement, Marcus would find a way of taking the credit for that too.

‘I shall persuade him to spare you.’ She smiled at Marcus warmly. ‘Perhaps he could be persuaded to stay a little, too? I am sure Maximilian would accommodate you both. Now, excuse me, I will go to Sollers.’

Marcus moved into the atrium and went among the guests. It was some moments before I saw him again. ‘Are you joining us, Libertus? We shall be offering the sacrifices shortly. That is, if I can persuade Maximilian to make them. He seems to have become uncommonly intimate with Lupus.’

‘Reconciled with his father,’ I said. ‘Maybe the soothsayer read the auguries correctly after all.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Marcus said, sharply.

‘Maximilian was to be reconciled with his father. I was to get my answers when I saw her again. The prophecies seem to have been more devious than most. And when the two bone pieces were reunited. . If I remember, Excellence, you were holding both the ivory writing tablets when Julia walked in.’

But Marcus wasn’t listening. He was looking at Julia. She was walking very upright, and there were two high spots of colour on her cheeks. She looked defiant and her head was held high. ‘Julia will bring him doom,’ I said, slowly. ‘You may find your prisoner never lives to see trial.’

Marcus was gazing at Julia with all the interest of a man who sees a dowry dangled before him by a lovely vadua. ‘I’m sure you are right, old friend,’ he said vaguely. ‘You always are. I should listen to you more often. And accept that contract, by all means. I should be pleased to stay in Corinium awhile.’ He smiled, and sidled away to join her.

I sighed. I had learned over the years to deal with Marcus. Now, it seemed I might have to learn to deal with Julia too. I looked at her, still composed, smiling at every guest present as if he were the only man in the world. I only hoped that Marcus would learn to deal with her himself. At least, I thought, in future he would be more understanding about my search for Gwellia.

I looked around the room. Marcus was talking to Julia, Lupus to Maximilian. In the far corner, by the Vestal altar, Mutuus was deep in conversation with Flavius. Another wealthy man in need of a good secretary, I thought. Mutuus would not be unemployed for long. And Flavius, also, had no sons.

Ah, well. I fingered the remaining coins in my pocket. Tomorrow I would go into the town with Junio. The toga could wait. Tomorrow I would take him to the baths, not as a slave, but as a customer. It would be a treat for him, and one that I could afford. After all, he had saved my life today.

I went out into the courtyard to tell him the good news. As I walked into the colonnade in the darkness, a figure darted into the grotto. Quickly, but not quickly enough. I knew who it was. It was the bald-headed slave. And there was Junio, leaning against a pillar, whistling as if he had never seen a slave girl in his life.

I was getting old. I left them to it, and taking my candle, I waved aside my slave. I slipped into the bedroom, took off my own toga and went to bed.