Dark Omens

THIRTEEN

When we reached the wickerwork stockade pen, Cantalarius raised the rope loop which secured the woven gate and escorted myself and Minimus inside. The field was small and muddy and the two animals were at the other end, snuffling at the wisp or two of hay still lying in the trough.

‘You have contrived to keep these fed throughout, I see?’ I said.

‘I had to, neighbour,’ he said glumly, ‘or we would have starved, ourselves. I needed them to take my wares to town to sell. Or to offer to the temple, come to that. Though it has not been easy, once or twice. Between these mules and trying to keep that unblemished ram alive we’ve had empty bellies more than once this moon — animals that starve to death have little meat on them. Though Gitta did manage to make some soup from two poor scraggy ewes, with some of the blighted cabbage which was not fit to sell.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘At least with all the servants dead there are fewer mouths to feed.’

I nodded. ‘There must have been some hard decisions, I can see.’

A strange expression spread across the ugly face. ‘The truth is, neighbour, I’ve done a stupid thing — though I did not wish to tell you when my wife could hear. But things were desperate. I had to feed the mules …’ He trailed off, uncomfortably.

‘Go on!’ I prompted. ‘If you have been begging, I shan’t inform on you.’ Beggars are officially forbidden in the town but people who are driven to it have my sympathy.

‘I wish it were that simple,’ he said soberly, making me wonder for a moment if he’d been stealing feed — for which of course the penalty was severe.

‘Fortunately, since you are a Roman citizen, even theft is not a capital offence,’ I hazarded, though the alternative — four-fold reparation and a swinging fine — was not much comfort, I could see. They’d seize the farm to pay it, and he’d lose everything.

But that was not the trouble either, it appeared.

He shook his head. ‘It’s like this, citizen Libertus. When I went into Glevum to the temple yesterday, I had to cross the marketplace, of course. I found there was a little hay and oats for sale — someone had succeeded in bringing in a cartful from their store, though naturally they wanted an enormous price for it and by that time I had given everything I had to bribe the priest. But I was desperate. I was right beside the forum and … I don’t know how it happened, but temptation was too great …’ He stopped and looked at me.

‘You borrowed from the money-lenders!’ I exclaimed. I saw his expression of surprised relief and gave him a wry smile. ‘Don’t worry, friend — you’re not the only one.’

He was silent for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite work out the force of that. Then he said, slowly, ‘You went to them, yourself?’

I nodded. ‘I think that half the town has been reduced to it.’ In a burst of fellow-feeling I reached out and patted him on his crooked arm. ‘And don’t fear I’ll tell your wife. I haven’t told mine, either. Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, when I have paid you for the mule you will have the wherewithal to clear the debt. Or some of it, at least.’

After that it did not take us long to shake upon the contract for the hire. I was to have the stronger of the mules for as long as I required, with permission to use it in any way I wished, on condition that I provided food and stabling for it and returned it ‘before the Ides in as good condition as I found it’ — a proviso I agreed to easily enough, as it was hard to see how the poor beast’s condition could well be worse.

Then it came to payment. I’d agreed a fifth of an aureus, of course, and there was also the two sesterces that I already owed — but I had no coin smaller than an aureus itself, and I had fully expected to have to leave one here as a kind of surety for the animal. However Cantalarius reached down his tunic-neck and produced a leather purse that dangled on string, and to my amazement he unloosed the cord and solemnly counted out my change: a gold quinarius-aureus (or ‘half-aureus’ as he called it) and seven silver denarii, saying as he did so, ‘Seventy-eight sesterces, I believe that’s right?’

‘You borrowed all that from the money-lenders?’ I exclaimed. Suddenly my humble debt seemed insignificant.

He sighed. ‘An aureus — they would not lend me less, though I only needed a fraction of that sum.’

I nodded. ‘And it must be due by now.’ There’d been a rush, of course, and — unlike me — Cantalarius had no powerful patron to protect him, so the money-lenders could dictate their terms. ‘But if you get back today,’ I told him earnestly, ‘you can repay it all before the interest starts to mount too much. And maybe even have enough to buy a bit more feed — supposing that it’s still available. Though I suppose you’ll have to finish at the pyre before you go.’

‘Exactly what I hope that I’ll have time to do!’ He was already hurrying over to a stone store hut near the gate, and producing a pannier saddle which he and Minimus threw across the mule. ‘So you understand that I need to hurry back?’

I understood him better than he thought. I was in haste to reach the town myself, so I was glad to give a hand to tie the saddle on, and a few moments later I was on the creature’s back. ‘Do you think that she could take my slave as well?’ I murmured, as Minimus took the rope and prepared to lead us out on to the road.

‘I’d give her a minute to get used to you — but she’s the stronger one and she is used to taking loads.’ Cantalarius held the gate open to let us through.

‘Till the Ides, then — or sooner if the weather breaks!’ I called out cheerfully, as Minimus tugged the tether and we bounced out on to the road. The poor mule was so bony that I feared to break its back but it was walking willingly enough.

‘She’s called Arlina!’ Cantalarius shouted back. He closed the gate of the enclosure after us then turned and hurried off towards his pyre.

‘What makes you smile, Master?’ Minimus enquired, turning his head to look at me. Up to then he had been staring at the path, picking his way with care among the icy stones.

I grinned at him. ‘I was laughing at the name he gives the mule. The word means “oath” in Celtic, so it doesn’t promise well! Though she seems tractable enough while you are leading her. I wonder if she’d walk without the rope? Let it go a moment.’ I pressed my knees into the mule to urge it on.

In fact, I need not have been concerned. Arlina proved amenable enough in either mode — indeed she even seemed to know the way and, when we reached the junction where my roundhouse was, turned without the slightest prompting on our part towards the ancient track towards the town. It felt quite strange to ride straight past my home like that, but Gwellia glimpsed me and came running to the gate.

‘I’m glad to see you’ve got the mule!’ she called. ‘But don’t go taking any risks with it.’ She saw that Minimus had slowed the animal, and she shook her head at him. ‘Don’t stop now — you’ll only have to hurry later if you do, and it’s such a skinny creature it might not have the strength!’ She stood at the gatepost and waved us out of sight.

I was starting to have confidence in the animal by now and a little further on, where the road got steep and difficult and Minimus was beginning to slide and stumble on the ice, I paused and pulled him up to sit in front of me. To my delight the mule seemed wholly unconcerned, so we rode in this fashion until the town wall came into sight.

Of course I had nowhere to accommodate an animal at my shop (as I had said to Gwellia earlier) but one of the hiring stable owners just outside the southern gates was a man with whom I’d had dealings once or twice before. In this dreadful weather he was short of trade and he took Arlina willingly enough — though at a fee of course. So we left the creature, hungrily munching silage in a stall, while Minimus and I went hurrying into town.

It was well into the afternoon by now, and very cold indeed, and many of the forum stalls were starting to close down, including some of the money-lenders ranged around the wall. I sent Minimus away to light the workshop fire while I sought out the man I had borrowed from. I managed to catch him, but only just in time, just as he was gathering up his goods and preparing to depart.

He was a swarthy fellow, with small greedy eyes and a suspicious frown, and it was clear he was not altogether pleased to find me there. ‘Back to pay your loan off before it’s even due?’ he grumbled. ‘Trying to deprive me of my proper interest, I suppose.’

Nonetheless he sat down again, took my proffered aureus and (after I’d called upon a passing citizen to witness that I’d paid) tried it in his teeth, put it in his coffers and counted out the change. After the deductions it did not seem very much, and I was very glad that I had not been forced, like Cantalarius, to borrow more that I could possibly afford.

The thought persuaded me to say — in some vague hope of preventing the man from packing up and thus costing my neighbour interest for another day — ‘I may not be your last customer, even now. The citizen Cantalarius is hoping to arrive tonight and pay back what he owes.’

As soon as I had spoken, it occurred to me that my words were more likely to have the opposite effect and make the money-lender leave at once, but in fact he made no move at all — just looked up at me with a suspicious air. ‘Cantalarius? What has that to do with me?’

‘Perhaps you weren’t the one who lent to him?’ I murmured, foolishly.

The fellow shook his head. ‘Not me, citizen. I would not have lent him anything at all. And after that business in the temple, I don’t know who would! That man is obviously cursed.’ He spat on his finger and rubbed it on his ear, as if he needed to ward away ill-luck for simply having mentioned Cantalarius by name. ‘I wouldn’t even let his shadow fall upon my feet, for fear of his ill-fortune rubbing off on me.’

‘Because of what happened at the Agonalia sacrifice?’ I said, privately thinking that this attitude explained my neighbour’s troubles in obtaining loans. ‘But surely the offering to Janus has been safely made by now — and I happen to know that Cantalarius has made a cleansing ritual of his own.’

The money-lender stared. ‘But the trouble at the festival is only half of it.’ He saw that I was puzzled. ‘Don’t tell me that you don’t know what has happened now!’

‘I’m aware his last remaining land slave died today,’ I answered. ‘It’s most unfortunate. But there’s been a propitiation to the gods — even a donation to the temple here — and things should be better now.’

‘Who cares about a land slave?’ The fellow clambered to his feet and pulled his coloured head-dress closer round his face. He was shorter than I am, and he smelled of spice, but he leaned close to me and murmured in the direction of my ear, ‘It’s those missing Romans that have started all the talk. First that Genialis fellow-’

I interrupted him. ‘You heard that he was missing?’

He looked at me as though I were an idiot. ‘Well, hasn’t everyone? It’s no secret, citizen. Alfredus Allius was in the forum earlier, making a formal announcement to his creditors.’

‘Alfredus Allius!’ I exclaimed. There was another man I’d have to interview.

‘That’s right, citizen. He was a close associate of Genialis, it seems. In fact he lent him money, but the fellow disappeared — and no one else gets paid till he turns up again, alive or otherwise.’ His pig-like eyes were watery with mirth. ‘Most likely otherwise. Allius claims he has been missing for a day or two at least and now there is a search for him. Though I’ll wager that if they find him, they’ll find him dead.’

‘What makes you sure of that?’

‘I told you, citizen, it is all around the town — he was connected with that Janus sacrifice and there’s a curse on everyone who was concerned with that. Mind you, there is another rumour that he laid that curse himself, because he wanted to donate the offering.’ He stopped and looked at me. ‘Why are you so interested in all this in any case? You mentioned that accursed Cantalarius, — you are not a friend of his, I hope, or you’ll be bringing ill-fortune on everyone, yourself!’

‘I’ve had business dealings with him, that is all,’ I said, feeling like a traitor as I spoke. ‘I’ve hired a mule from him.’

The money-lender wafted spice at me again. ‘Then I should get it back to him as soon as possible, if you don’t want to be the next to feel the anger of the Fates. They say it’s touching everyone that has to do with him. Even the temple priests are not exempt, it seems. And now they’ve found that body in the ice …’

‘Body!’ The word was startled out of me.

But I had shown too much interest. ‘You want more information, citizen? You can attract ill-luck, you know, by too much talk of it. I’m not sure I should take the risk of saying any more. Unless, of course, you wanted to make it worth my while …’ He rubbed two fingers up against his thumb in the universal sign that money was required.

I found a sestertius and held it out of reach. ‘This if you earn it. Now tell me what you know. They have found a body — but it wasn’t Genialis, is that right?’

‘I haven’t seen it, citizen, so I couldn’t swear to it!’ He eyed the money greedily. ‘All know is that they say it was the priest.’

‘The priest?’ I was turning into Echo, in the legend of the Greeks.

‘The one who let the ram go at the Janus festival,’ he said. ‘Or half of him, at least. First they were looking for him shortly after dawn — he hadn’t gone to the morning sacrifice — and then some peasant came rushing into the forum with the news. He and his brother were looking for firewood on the forest path and they saw this pair of feet and legs sticking from a pile of snow out on a pond. Though Jove only knows what the old man was doing in the woods in this inclement weather anyway.’

On his way to visit Cantalarius, I thought, when some unpleasant accident had befallen him. So that is why he hadn’t turned up at the farm! I wondered how Cantalarius would feel when he found out. Perhaps there really was a curse!

My informant was still telling me his tale. ‘Anyway, when this peasant went to take a closer look, he found that legs and feet was almost all there was left of him — there wasn’t any head, or any chest and shoulders come to that.’

That caught my interest, of course. ‘If there’s no head, then how can they be sure it is the priest?’ I said, wondering if it might be Genialis after all.

‘There are lots of theories about that, but I believe it was the sandals that they recognized. A very fancy pair. That’s what brought the peasant rushing into town. He thought he’d seen the old priest wearing them — and the temple sent slaves out to verify the fact. They must have done so, because they brought the body back this very afternoon. There won’t be a big state funeral, I understand — that would take some time to organize and they want to cleanse the temple as fast as possible. It’s an evil augury to have only half a corpse. Looks as if he found his way into a frozen ditch and drowned: he was lying head downwards in the ice. Everyone is saying it is the curse, of course.’

‘So what happened to the rest of him?’ I said, half to myself.

The money-lender shrugged. ‘The gods alone know, citizen. Looked as it if had been hacked away or gnawed — though his clothes were still there with him, mostly floating underneath the ice. Apparently they’ve brought those back as well. Perhaps a wolf or something got the rest of him. And that is all I know.’ He made a lunge towards the coin.

I pulled it back and held it high above his reach. ‘An underwater wolf?’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t believe that, townsman, any more than you! Though I suppose it might be Druids. Have they thought of that?’ The old religion had been banned of course, but there had been Druid rebels active hereabouts — often targeting the Roman soldiery and hewing off their heads to hang in sacred groves, as an offering to the woodland gods. ‘A priest might be a target for them, I suppose.’

The money-lender stared at me as though I were insane. ‘When did Druids ever hack off more than just the head? Or leave a body where it would not instantly be found? I told you, citizen, it is the curse at work. Mind you, it’s my belief he brought it on himself. The man was old and sick, by all accounts, and should have been retired from the priesthood long ago. Couldn’t be relied upon to perform the rituals. I wasn’t at the sacrifice, of course — I’m not a citizen — but I’ve heard it was his fault that it had to be postponed.’

I nodded. ‘He let the ram get free and spoil the sacrifice.’

He spat on his finger and rubbed his ear with it then fingered a good-luck amulet that he wore round his wrist. ‘Well, if he did offend the gods, he’s paid the price for it. And so will we, if we keep on like this. I said before, one can attract a curse by dwelling on its power.’

I was no longer listening. I was trying to make sense of all that I’d just heard. ‘It can’t have been the same body that Cantalarius saw,’ I said, scarcely aware that I had said the words aloud. ‘That was days ago, before the feast. So there must have been two separate corpses at the pond. I wonder if that earlier one was Gen …?’ I shook my head. ‘That can’t be so; the body was being rescued then by passers-by, so if it had been a wealthy Roman in a toga we would have heard of it. Someone would have wanted a reward — just like that peasant who came running in today.’

But I had dropped my guard. The money-lender made a lunge and seized the coin, and — even before I could protest — he had bent down and snatched up his cushion and his box and was scuttling away across the forum, his coloured head-scarf bobbing as he ran.