Death at Pompeia

Epilogue

It was a relief to be walking up the forest road and back into my own comfortable little roundhouse once again, with Minimus trudging slowly at my heels. Gwellia was waiting for me at the outer gate, a bucket of rose-madder petals in her hand, ready to be used for something in the dyeing house.

‘Husband,’ she greeted me, ‘you have come at last. Junio has been here an hour or two at least. You persuaded the garrison commander to let you go, at last?’

I nodded. It had been a long and trying afternoon. ‘Pulchra’s confession convinced him straightaway that Redux and I had no charge to answer now — but the tribune was much more difficult to appease. I believe he still thinks we had some part in it.’

Gwellia laughed softly. ‘And what about that vintner and his wife?’ she asked. ‘They’re still in custody?’ We had reached the entrance to the house itself by now, and as we went inside the good smell of cooking floated from the fire.

I grinned. ‘He is. On charges of watering the wine. I was able to speak for Maesta — and they set her free. She told me yesterday that her husband wanted her to make a lethal potion that they both could take, if there had proved to be a problem with the wedding wine. That explained the brew that she had made. Of course it was her potion that killed Honorius, but the court accepted it was no fault of hers. But she has been forbidden to make lethal draughts again — and the authorities have confiscated those already found.’ I sat down on my favourite stool and took my sandals off.

‘And what will happen to them now?’ Gwellia was ladling soup on to a dish, and Maximus was pouring warm water in a bowl, ready to kneel down and wash my feet in it.

I leaned back and abandoned myself to domestic luxury. ‘I hope the commander will let Pulchra swallow it. Poor woman, her fate will be dreadful otherwise. And her mistress is not likely to be much better off. Helena Domna has exacted her revenge and raised a question with the council about the father of the child. It will be up to the guardian to decide its fate — and hers.’

‘And that will be Marcus?’ Gwellia took a taste and added a few grains of precious salt from the little pile that was drying by the hearth.

I nodded. ‘He is the residuary legatee. If he declares the child a bastard he’ll inherit everything. I’ve got the garrison commander to write to him in Rome, telling him about it, and explaining everything. I’ve also suggested that he sets the steward free.’ I took the dish and spoon from her, and allowed the fragrant liquid to warm me inwardly.

‘So he can marry Pompeia?’ she grinned. ‘Junio was telling me you had a plan for that.’

‘If Marcus manumits him, things are different. Pentius will be a freeman and she can marry him. She may not get a dowry, that’s a decision for the guardian — but when he comes back I’ll do my best for her.’

She picked up a ladle and refilled my dish. ‘While Helena Domna escapes with just a fine. She sounds a horrid woman, it doesn’t seem quite fair.’

I laughed. ‘Not everyone has your advantages — or mine. And few people can make a soup as good as this.’

‘I didn’t do it, husband. Cilla made the soup.’

‘Of course she was trained in a Roman kitchen once,’ I said, disappointed that my attempt at flattery had failed. ‘How is she, by the way?’

My wife grinned down at me. ‘She has been sick again. The third time in a week. And always in the mornings. Do you know what I think?’

I nodded, moved by her evident delight. We had not managed to have children of our own — thanks to the years of separation in our youth — and though we had adopted Junio, of course, a grandchild would put the final touches on our happiness.

I adopted a carefully professional tone of voice. ‘Vulvaria — stinking arrach — that is what she needs. It’s a well-known cure for morning sickness. It smells and tastes disgusting, but it does the trick.’ I grinned at Gwellia’s evident surprise. ‘And,’ I added, thinking of Maesta and her herbs, ‘I think I know exactly where we can get some from.’