Murder in the Forum

Chapter Three

I must have been looking astonished, because even Marcus — who is not much given to noticing the reactions of his audience — looked at my face and said hastily, ‘You would feel the same way in my place, Libertus. It is my mother’s interference I am afraid of. I got a letter from her only yesterday — sent via a trader bringing olive oil to the market — and she is full of schemes which she thinks are “for my benefit”. Of course, I wrote at once to dissuade her. I only pray she hasn’t carried out her ideas in the meantime. That letter would have taken almost a month to get here.’

In spite of everything, I could scarcely repress a smile. It was hard to imagine anyone as wealthy and important as Marcus even possessing a mother, let alone a mother who told him what to do. But one look at his face told me that this was no smiling matter. ‘And what was her idea, Excellence?’

‘She has been threatening for some time to find me a bride, if I do not choose one for myself,’ Marcus explained. ‘Now she is talking of speaking to the Emperor about it — asking who might make a suitable wife for me. She doesn’t seem to see how serious that is. If he made a recommendation I should be more or less obliged to marry the girl, whatever I thought of her. I dare not offend Commodus.’

I could see the force of that. ‘And you suspect a candidate, Excellence?’ It was not a difficult deduction. His face was the picture of dejection.

‘It occurs to me,’ he said despondently, ‘that Felix has a daughter. I saw her once, in Rome, before I left. She was only a child then, but she was already unattractive — just like her mother, a face like a cavalry horse and a whine like a donkey. Oh, great Minerva giver of wisdom! You know, Libertus, that could be why he’s here. Links with my family would give Felix some solid allies in Rome — at present he must be reliant on the Emperor alone, and that is never wise. Dear Jupiter! Forced into marriage with his hideous daughter — wouldn’t Felix love to bring me a message like that!’

I hastened to backtrack. ‘You don’t know that, Excellence. It was only a suggestion on my part. It is more likely that he is here on a political errand.’ Strange — only a moment or two before, that had seemed a much more threatening alternative.

Marcus shook his head. ‘No, it would make sense. The Emperor would speak for Felix, and if she is ugly her father would be desperate to dispose of her. My mother would think it a wonderful match — all that property and wealth. . Dear Jupiter! The girl must be twenty-one by now, so she must be a perfect fright, not to have found a husband at that age. And yet if the Emperor has suggested it, I can hardly refuse-’ He broke off, interrupted by the return of the messenger he had sent to Zetso. ‘Well?’

The boy was breathless with hurry. ‘Most excellent master, I delivered your message to the driver, and he awaits you at the carriage. He merely urges that you fulfil your business at the curia as soon as possible. Lucius Tigidius Perennis Felix proposes a feast tonight and hopes that you will attend.’ The slave was choosing his words with care, and I guessed that the message had been delivered in much more forceful terms.

Marcus cocked an eyebrow at me.

I nodded, although in fact this was not quite as I understood it. Surely Felix was guest of honour rather than host at this banquet? But this was no time for fine distinctions. ‘I am at your service, Excellence.’

Marcus sighed and waved the slave away. ‘Very well, go and prepare my possessions for departure.’ The slave hurried off, and Marcus poured himself another glass of wine — unheard of indignity — before he turned to me. ‘Why ever didn’t I marry Delicta weeks ago? If I arrived back in Glevum a married man, it would have been too late. Felix would not even have a grievance.’

There was no answer to that. The widow was beautiful, intelligent, wealthy and eager to have him. In his position I would have wed her long since. I said nothing.

Suddenly he brightened. ‘Great Mercury, Libertus, I wonder if I could marry her now?’

I stared at him. ‘Now? This afternoon?’

‘Why not?’

‘You can hardly claim usus marriage,’ I said. ‘You have been sleeping with her under her roof rather than your own. And certainly not for an uninterrupted year.’ That was rather a presumptuous remark and I regretted it instantly, but Marcus was too preoccupied to care.

‘I cannot propose a manus marriage either — I cannot notionally “buy” her from myself. But I could do it another way — a formal statement in front of a magistrate and a family augurer, witnessed by seven citizens. After all, I am going to the curia. Delicta’s auspex will be there and I happen to know a friendly magistrate. It is a little irregular, but he owes me a favour or two. I’m sure he would oblige us.’ He grinned. ‘What do you say, old friend?’

‘The lady will consent?’

‘Of course she will. She has been telling her brothers for weeks that we intend to marry. And she will see the sense in this. Of course, she needs her guardian’s formal permission — but since I am her guardian,’ he grinned, ‘I will send for her at once.’ He made towards the door.

I intervened. ‘Allow me, Excellence. I know the house and I will take her the message myself. That way no servant knows of it. If Zetso asks questions while you are gone, all he will learn is that you were going to the curia, which he knows anyway. I suggest that we go openly. I will have the lady send all her maidservants on errands to the front of the house, then put on a hooded cloak and follow us discreetly on foot out of the back gate. Zetso will pay little attention to her movements. Let us hope your magistrate is amenable and the auspex finds the auguries favourable.’

‘I found for him last month in a tax case,’ Marcus said wryly. ‘That should help to tip the entrails in my favour. And only yesterday I put the magistrate in the way of buying the house in this law case we are about to attend. The accused man was pleased to part with it at a very low price. I imagine the magistrate will be amenable.’

‘Then all you need is seven citizens to witness your declaration.’

He glanced at my Roman toga, more than usually frowsty after our headlong journey to Corinium. ‘Six,’ he said.

So I was to be party to this escapade. Well, I had some sympathy with it, and in any case I could hardly refuse. I contented myself with saying wryly, ‘You realise, Excellence, that we have no proof that Felix brings any letter of the kind? You may find that you have married your “Delicta” for nothing.’ If the lady was to be married to my patron, I thought, I might risk the familiar name.

I expected a rebuke for my insolence, but Marcus merely grinned. ‘All things considered, Libertus, I think that is a risk I am prepared to take. And if my family do not care for my marrying a provincial, they have only themselves to blame. Now, I will go and prepare myself for the curia. You can speak to Delicta, if you will.’

I had no preparations to make, so I took the two slave-boys with me and went out into the back courtyard where the private quarters lay, each bedroom opening separately off the covered walkway which bordered the inner gardens on three sides. I knew the layout of the house from my previous visit and I was able to lead the way to the widow’s apartments, a pair of interconnecting chambers: a small outer dressing room and sleeping quarters within.

At my signal one of the slaves tapped on the door. A handmaiden opened it. I could see Julia Delicta herself, seated in a gilded chair in the inner room, attended by a group of female slaves. One knelt before her with a mirror, another held a collection of oils and combs, while a third adjusted the exquisite blond tresses to her mistress’s satisfaction. It was a striking picture, made more striking because Delicta’s hair was of precisely the same remarkable golden-blond as that of the maidservant who answered the door. Of course — as I realised a moment afterwards — this was hardly surprising, since it was the same hair: the slave’s tresses had clearly been shorn off at some time and fashioned into an elaborate wig. Presumably Delicta liked it and was having a second one grown, or the girl would have been sold on again. Many fashionable women bought slaves for exactly the same purpose.

It was not a pleasing thought. My own wife, Gwellia, had been snatched from me and sold into slavery when I was. She too had beautiful hair: a waterfall of raven locks which had haunted my dreams ever since. I had no idea where she was — beyond a rumour that a Celtic slave of the same name had been sold to Eboracum — though I had searched for her tirelessly ever since I gained my freedom. The thought that she might be used in this way, as a kind of human sheep to be shorn for her mistress, was not an agreeable one.

Then Delicta saw me, and smiled a greeting. All disapproval evaporated. I recognised, not for the first time, what an exceedingly attractive woman she was. ‘Libertus!’ She motioned away her slaves, rose gracefully to her feet, and came towards me, extending a perfumed hand. ‘Excuse me that I was not present to greet you. I heard that there were visitors in the house and I was preparing myself to meet them. I did not guess that it was you. What a pleasure to see you again!’

She had a way, a gift almost, of making every man she spoke to feel like an emperor. I was not immune to it myself. Fortunately I have been a slave, and slaves learn early how to suppress desire, even of the most involuntary kind. I pulled myself together. ‘Lady, there are matters I must discuss with you.’ I nodded towards the maidservants. ‘In private, if I may. It concerns your guardian.’

She understood at once, and came out unattended into one of the arbours. I stationed the slave-boys out of earshot, and, sitting down beside her, told her of the plan.

At first she was doubtful. ‘But, Libertus, there are arrangements to make. There should be a feast, sacrifices, gifts to the servants. I do not even have anything suitable to wear.’

As this would be her third wedding she would hardly need the ochre veils and floral trimmings of a new bride, but I suppose all women are the same. Gwellia would have had the same impulse. I said gently, ‘With respect, lady, I suggest you wear your normal clothes. Fine robes would only create interest among your slaves — and who knows whom Zetso may already have bribed to bring him information?’

She was still hesitating. ‘But the festivities. .’

‘They can be arranged later. If you do not marry him today, you may lose him for ever.’ I saw her face and produced my trump card. ‘Of course, he might be prepared to go to Rome, wed this girl and then divorce her — there would be no shame in that once he had done his duty by her.’ Made her pregnant, I meant, though Celtic delicacy prevented my saying so to a lady.

Romans, however, have fewer inhibitions. ‘Get her with child? I won’t have that. Besides, Marcus is such a soft-hearted fool, he would lose his heart to the infant and I should never win him back. No, I’ll do it. What exactly does he want me to do?’

I outlined the instructions we had agreed, and she listened attentively. ‘Very well,’ she said, ‘I will do as you suggest. But with your agreement, I shall bring two of my servants with me. Have Marcus send me the boys who were attending him. That way they cannot report to Zetso, and it cannot be claimed that I was abducted. If Felix is the kind of man you describe, he would seize on such an excuse to declare the contract illegal.’

I nodded, appreciating her intelligence. I added one or two suggestions of my own. Then I accompanied her back to her door. ‘I am sorry, lady, to drag my patron from you,’ I said, loudly enough for the waiting handmaidens to hear. ‘But Perennis Felix awaits him. I am sure you understand.’

She was quick-witted as well as beautiful. ‘I suppose it cannot be helped,’ she replied, her voice a model of disappointed affront. ‘Make my farewells to Marcus. He need not bother to seek me — I am going out, to choose some new cloth for a stola. A poor widow must have some amusements in life.’

I went back to Marcus with this news, and he chuckled proudly. ‘A remarkable woman, Libertus. Now, are you ready? Zetso is waiting.’

Which is how I came to be a witness at the wedding. In fact it was all very simple. Marcus tried his case, and by the time it was finished Delicta had arrived, with her attendants, and the six additional witnesses had been found. She took off her hooded cape, and stood demurely, looking stunning in a simple long-sleeved sleeved tunic and a stola in shades of amethyst. It was hard to know what wedding outfit could have been more becoming. The magistrate and the auspex did what was asked of them, we witnesses added our seals to the contract, and Marcus and Julia Delicta formally made their vows. ‘Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia’ — ‘Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia.’ They even exchanged rings as tokens, hurriedly blessed on the imperial altar.

Then we returned to Zetso. Delicta would follow us to Glevum in a few days, where Marcus had promised her all the formal feasts and celebrations she could wish. Zetso was bad-tempered at having been kept waiting, but was obviously entirely unsuspicious. Marcus and I sat in the carriage, bouncing home, and smiled at each other triumphantly.

If we had known what lay ahead we might not have been so delighted.