The Germanicus Mosaic

Chapter Fourteen

I woke late, with a headache. Anyone who did not know me better might have supposed that I had drunk too much Roman wine — the last funeral guests had left at daybreak in their hired carriage — but the painful place on the base of my skull reminded me of the truth. I sat up cautiously.

Junio, who had been sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed, roused himself instantly. ‘You are awake, master?’

‘Almost,’ I groaned. ‘Go and get yourself something to eat, and then you can come back and help me strigil and dress — and fetch me some bread and fruit from the kitchens too. And some water, my head aches abominably.’

Junio grinned. ‘Then I shall find Faustina and ask her to send a draught for you. Her “pond-water” did you good yesterday.’

I grimaced. ‘Perhaps. But be quick about it. I learned some important facts last night. I must speak to Marcus and go back to Glevum. I have some news that might help us to find Daedalus.’

‘So you have finished here?’

‘There are some things I want to ask Aulus, first.’

‘Then. .’ He hesitated. ‘Before we go, might I visit the librarium? I should like to see the pavement.’

I was sorry that I hadn’t thought of it. Of course Junio was interested. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing it, myself,’ I said, and he went off, satisfied.

I sat on the edge of the bed-frame, thinking. So, if my theory was right, Crassus sent Daedalus to Glevum, to take his place under cover of the mask. Why? Because he himself wished to disappear and not be missed? What pressing business had he to attend to, which must be kept a secret from the world? Was he plotting the downfall of the emperor as Marcus feared? And if so, was he friend or foe of Marcus’ governor?

And why did Daedalus, if it was Daedalus, go off towards the West Gate when the sacrifices were over? He was not going home, the villa lay in the opposite direction. Presumably then, it was to meet Crassus undetected. That would make sense. That tesserarius at the funeral had spoken of a ‘wager’ and I was beginning to guess what that might be. Daedalus had wagered that he could successfully take Crassus’ place at the procession. Presumably he had offered something as a stake, and he was to have his freedom if he won. That would explain why he was boasting at the villa that he would soon be free, and why he had left after the procession saying that he had won ‘an important wager’. He had just gambled for his liberty.

Why had Crassus consented, I wondered. If Daedalus had failed he might well have been arrested for impersonating a citizen. Either way, Crassus lost a good slave. But then I laughed aloud. Of course! Being Crassus, he had probably placed a huge stake with one of his gambling cronies, betting that Daedalus would succeed. That way, whatever the outcome, Germanicus would win, though he was obviously confident of his slave’s ability.

No doubt they had arranged to meet later to settle the debt, somewhere away from the public eye. But if the murder had already taken place, Crassus could not come as arranged. So what became of Daedalus, lurking in the seedy suburbs by the river, dressed in a borrowed uniform to which he was not entitled? Knocked on the head and robbed? That would not be impossible. He had not been arrested, as one might suppose, or Marcus would have heard of it. He had not returned to the villa, either. There was only one thing to do — go to the West Gate myself and try to retrace his footsteps.

I had other reasons, too, for wanting to go in that direction. I could reassure myself that my workshop had not burned down in my absence.

My reverie was interrupted by Junio, carrying my breakfast. Apples, I noticed, but no plums. I was secretly glad, though, to have Junio fetch my food. Eating from a communal platter at the funeral was one thing, but eating alone was another. I had not forgotten that there was still a murderer abroad, probably a poisoner, and that someone had already rapped me on the head.

‘Faustina will bring you a potion later,’ Junio said cheerfully. ‘Now, do you wish to eat first, or wash and dress yourself before Paulus comes to do it? If he has been instructed to attend you, he may not welcome my intrusion.’ He grinned. ‘I managed to avoid him when I went for the food and water.’

I let him strigil me and help me dress, then turned my attention to the apples. I was about to instruct Junio to go to Marcus and seek an audience for me, when Andretha interrupted us, flurried as ever.

‘Marcus Aurelius Septimus sends his greetings and asks that you will attend him at lunch. In the meantime he instructs me to provide you with anything you need.’

At lunch! That gave me a long wait, but there was nothing I could do about it. Marcus, presumably, was feeling the effects of the wine. I was on the point of saying that I needed nothing, but Junio interposed. ‘I believe you said, master, that you wished to speak to Aulus. It would be convenient if he could come to you, since you are awaiting your headache cure.’

Andretha made a slight bow. Since I had been attacked he had been almost wearing in his willingness to please. I knew why, of course. My headache was officially due to his negligence, and he wanted as much of my favour as possible. ‘Aulus shall be sent to you at once.’ And he hastened off.

I rounded on Junio. ‘Impudent pup! Sending the chief slave to fetch Aulus, as if he were your messenger boy. I wonder you did not ask him to bring the library pavement too.’

Junio grinned. ‘Ah, but I should not have seen it in position then.’

Sometimes I fear I am too lenient with that boy.

‘Anyway,’ he went on, ‘I was right about your headache cure. Here is Faustina with the potion now.’

She came in with it, ready poured in a goblet. It was darker green this time and looked even worse than the last one.

‘This was quickly made,’ I said. I eyed it doubtfully. She had put henbane on my head yesterday. What was she preparing for me now?

‘The herbs were close at hand, citizen. Wild cress, succory and house leeks. It took little to crush and heat them.’ She smiled. ‘Regina would have been quicker yet. She had phials of potions ready. And she would have had rose-flower juice, which is the best of cures.’

I looked at the liquid again. Somehow it looked a little less vile when you knew what it was. Or thought you did. ‘Nonetheless. .’ I began.

‘You don’t trust me?’ Faustina said. ‘See. I will lead the way.’ She lifted the goblet and took a deep draught. ‘The taste is rather strange and peppery, but it does clear the head.’

I took the drinking cup and drained it. Peppery it wasn’t. As for strange — there are times when even Roman fish sauce would improve a flavour! Faustina was right about one thing though. It did seem to clear my head.

‘You hesitated. Did you fear poison?’ Junio said, when she had gone, and I was sipping a cup of cool water to dispel the taste. ‘I would have tested it for you. But surely she would not poison you so openly? Marcus might grant a general pardon over Crassus, if a single killer was discovered, but poisoning you would lead to certain death.’

He looked at me for confirmation. I raised an eyebrow. I have been trying to encourage Junio in other skills, as well as pavement making.

He said slowly, ‘Though I suppose she might do it to protect Rufus.’ He frowned. ‘But that would mean that he killed Crassus. Or that she suspected him, at least.’

‘I think she does. She knows he was missing from the procession. He denies “touching” Crassus, but she knows that poison was used.’

‘It was?’

‘I am sure of it. There may have been damage to the face, perhaps, but nothing that could have been fatal. The back of the neck is untouched, and there is no sign of strangling. There were no marks on the rest of the body, and poison would explain so many things. I think Crassus, for instance, came back here of his own accord.’ I outlined my theory of Daedalus and the mask. ‘No doubt he had arranged to meet someone.’

‘But,’ Junio said excitedly, ‘he didn’t necessarily meet anybody. It may not be important who else was missing from the procession. Suppose he had arranged to wait for someone, in the stoke room perhaps? If he were tricked into taking poison, disguised in wine for instance, he might have died alone. No one would go there, with the fires down. The killer could have come back later and put the head into the furnace.’

I thought about this. ‘Why should anyone do that?’

‘To disguise the signs? Burning him does not hide that he is dead, of course, but it deflects the thoughts from poison.’ He stopped. ‘I see your reasoning. It might equally deflect the thoughts from people who know about poison — prevent them from being immediately suspected. No wonder you were hesitant about drinking that remedy.’

I raised an eyebrow, approvingly.

Another thought seemed to strike him. ‘And of course, she would not poison you outright. A little poison in each drink — not too much — the thing is simply done. You have received a head wound too, so that if you become confused and ill, it is easy to account for. And all the while, it would seem as if she was trying to cure you. I am sorry, master. You were right. I should not doubt your judgement.’

I grinned at him. ‘Then let us hope my judgement is correct. I drank her potion. Otherwise, you reason much as I did. Except that I am fairly convinced that Crassus was not here alone. Someone must have put the head into the furnace early, while the fires were still hot, or the face would not have been so burned. Later, after the procession, the fires would have died. But enough of that. Here is Aulus, sent to answer your summons!’

I took care that the gatekeeper did not hear that, of course. It would not have pleased him to think he had been summoned by a mere slave, and he looked even more menacingly large in my bedchamber than he had seemed in his own. I had no wish to displease him. He was already scowling nervously.

‘Aulus,’ I said heartily, as if this was a social call of his own desiring, ‘how good of you to come. I need your talents. You found me, I hear, after I was attacked?’

The scowl lifted slightly, and he gave me a conspiratorial nudge. ‘You were lying face down on Paulus’ bed. I didn’t see who did it. If I had. .’ He fingered the cudgel at his belt.

You would have knocked him on the head? I thought, but I did not say so. He was unlikely to see the irony, but I was taking no chances. Instead I said, ‘Thank you for saving me. It is lucky you came to be there, at that hour.’ What were you doing there, is what I meant.

He understood. ‘Andretha sent me, to collect a clean tunic for the procession. You can ask him. I was not in the sleeping quarters more than half a minute. He saw me go in, and as soon as I found you I went out and fetched him.’ Aulus was so anxious to defend himself that he was not even angry at the inquisition.

‘Very well,’ I said, glad to move off dangerous ground. ‘Now, tell me about these meetings that you saw — when Crassus met this soldier at the gate.’

That pleased him. He seemed to take reference to his spying as a professional compliment. ‘Two meetings, citizen, at twilight. And both times Crassus tried to order me away.’

‘And the soldier,’ I said. ‘Would you recognise him again?’

He shook his head. ‘No, citizen. With cheekplates, it is hard to identify a face, even when you are looking in broad daylight. In poor light it is impossible. It was a centurion both times, that is all I know; he had one of those sideways crests on his helmet.’

‘And you don’t know if it was the same man each time?’

‘I could not tell. I was too far away. I do not think it was. There was something about the second one — he seemed bigger, more confident. More of a swaggering air, like Crassus himself. But I could not swear that they were different.’

‘And from which direction did the soldier come?’

Aulus looked startled. ‘I am not sure. But he must have come down the lane from the military road. There is nothing in the other direction but a few peasant farms. The track goes further, but it is a woeful one. Dangerous, too. There are wolves in the forest.’

‘And towards the high road?’

‘You have seen it, citizen. Nothing at all on the main lane, and not much more on the old road, except the ruined roundhouse. He would hardly go there.’ He gave me a suggestive leer. ‘Mind you, that has been used by one or two other people, for different purposes. Several people, apart from Rufus and his girl. I could tell you a few stories. . at a price.’

‘Related to this matter?’ I said, severely. Sexual tittle-tattle was not to my taste.

He shook his head, looking disappointed. I imagine that for Aulus this kind of salacious gossip was quite a profitable sideline. He brightened again. ‘I do have something for you, citizen. Something I found out on the kitchen pile.’

Only a spy would search the kitchen pile — the heap of refuse and scraps which were thrown from the window, often rendered even more aromatic by the addition of leftovers from the slaughterblock.

I managed a smile. ‘And what is that?’

I do not know what I expected. Incriminating love-messages perhaps, scratched on a wax tablet. Something like that. I was not at all prepared for what he offered me.

It was a small, glass, stoppered phial, no longer than my finger, and threaded with a leather thong through a small loop near the neck. It was empty. I knew what it was. I had seen one very like it recently — on Paulus’ tray. One of Regina’s phials. I thought of the potions I had drunk, and paled.

‘I don’t know,’ Aulus was saying, in a whisper that today smelt of boiled cabbage, ‘if that is helpful, citizen?’

I managed to say, ‘Most helpful. Thank you.’

He smirked hopefully. ‘Shall I be. . rewarded?’

‘I will speak to Marcus,’ I said. If I started to pay for information like this I should soon be begging myself. ‘I am to see him later. In the meantime, if Junio will give me his arm we will peep in at the librarium pavement. I am still a little unsteady on my feet.’

I didn’t say so to Aulus but I also had another expedition in mind. Remembering that piece of scale-armour, I was not at all sure that he was right about Crassus not going to the roundhouse.

I wanted to have another look.