The Germanicus Mosaic

Chapter Twenty-one

‘Lucius was pleased to see you,’ the boy said, as we wound our way down the hill again. ‘I thought when you first arrived that he seemed unwilling to speak to you. But you have revived him. Since the feast of Mars he has turned away visitors, and “cloaked himself in prayer and solitude” as my mother says. And he had almost ceased to eat. There was a time that he was always out on the hills, picking berries and mushrooms or collecting eggs and herbs to eat, but since his brother’s death he seemed to have lost all interest in food. But there he was talking earnestly to you, and breaking bread with you besides. Our neighbours will be pleased to hear it, they have been wanting him to come and pray for their sick daughter. I told you how he saved my brother’s life?’

I had to listen to the story all over again.

When we got back to the roundhouse, I found the envoy in a less communicative mood than ever. He had made himself queasy on unaccustomed ale and hot cakes and, having exhausted the family’s knowledge of Latin very quickly, had been obliged to endure a long afternoon of sitting silently like a statue, being peered and giggled at by the infants while the grandmother grinned gummily nearby. To crown it all, the smoke of the fire had made smuts on his tunic, and my intervention with Lucius had made his presence on this whole venture a complete waste of time. Having delivered himself, curtly, of this information he preserved a huffy silence all the way home.

I left him at the forum to make his report to Marcus — at least he would get the credit for the sale of the villa — and made my way home, quickly, before darkness fell and the streets became too dangerous for law-abiding citizens to walk alone. I had no money to hire myself a carrying-chair or a protective slave.

I arrived home, without interruption from marauding youths or drunken soldiery, to find Junio waiting for me. He had bought some cooked meat, and roasted a turnip for us in the embers of the fire. I stretched out on my stool, glad of my simple pleasures.

‘Cassius Didio was here to see you,’ Junio said, when he judged that I had relaxed sufficiently to receive this news.

I groaned. ‘Complaining about his pavement, I suppose. What did you tell him?’

Junio grinned. ‘That you had been called away by Marcus. Didio was most impressed, especially when I told him it was all a deadly secret, and I was forbidden to tell him more.’

I ran a weary hand through what was left of my hair. ‘Why did you tell him that? The story will be all over Glevum tomorrow.’

‘I know, master. But it stopped him being angry over his pavement, and your name will be on everyone’s lips. Linked with Marcus, too. Anyone who wants a mosaic will be agog for your services.’

I could not help smiling at his reasoning. He was probably right about the gossip too. Curiosity draws customers as surely as oxen drag the plough. I picked up my spiced mead.

‘Marcus was not with me,’ I said. ‘I had a much more exquisite companion.’ I told Junio about my day.

He appeared fascinated, asking endless questions about the roundhouse until I realised he was humouring me. I moved the subject swiftly to Lucius.

‘So, will you go to Eboracum?’ he asked when I had finished.

I shook my head. ‘I could not afford such a trip, even if Marcus would pay for the travel, which he will not. And Didio is waiting for his mosaic border. It would be too late to save Rufus, in any case, even supposing I could find Regina there.’

‘Which you doubt?’

‘Which I doubt. Anyway, I do not believe she poisoned him. If she had come back to the villa someone would have seen her. And she didn’t stay at an inn. You remember the aediles asked at all the inns, after the murder, and there were no unexplained strangers in the vicinity. And a woman travelling alone would be very noteworthy.’

‘She had a male slave travelling with her, and a maid.’

‘No. She dismissed the girl, and Paulus told us that the custos died. He shaved the corpse before they buried it.’

‘You think Regina poisoned her custos too?’

‘She might have done.’ I took a gulp of mead. ‘But what about Daedalus? Surely she could not have murdered him?’

‘Perhaps that was unconnected, a simple robbery. That seems likely. Daedalus was waiting for Crassus by the river, but he would have had a long wait. Germanicus was already dead. It is dangerous by the river after dark, particularly to a slave impersonating a soldier. He would very likely have hidden in dark places.’ Junio looked at me, seeking approval for his reasoning powers. ‘One lurking thief, one sharp stab, that is all it takes. Daedalus loses his purse and he is dumped in the water.’

‘Then why not take his armour? His helmet at least? It is worth many denarii, even now.’

Junio shrugged. ‘It is hard to smuggle such things within the city, unless you come prepared. No, I am sure Lucius is right. The answer lies with tracing Regina. A pity we cannot go to her home town, but it is a long way — days and days of travelling.’

He said ‘we’ I noticed, as though he and I were working as a team.

‘Perhaps,’ I said.

He looked at me intently. ‘There is something else?’ It is impossible to hide anything from Junio.

I sighed. ‘There is something that escapes me, I don’t know what. Something I half-noticed at the time. I feel there is some important information I have missed. Something that Lucius said or did.’

‘Something he told you about Regina?’

‘No,’ I said, trying to capture that elusive thought. ‘I feel it was something about oatcakes.’

Junio laughed. ‘You and your oatcakes! You are obsessed with Celtic food. I am sorry I did not buy some for you from the market.’

I thought of that delicious childhood taste. ‘No market oatcakes ever tasted like these,’ I said. ‘And it does not take a Celt to think so. Lucius enjoyed them too.’

‘What sort of man is Lucius? I never met Crassus, but from what you say the two men were as different as charcoal and cheese.’

I tried to describe the man. ‘Shrewd, serious, solitary and very softly spoken,’ I finished, rather proud of my oratorical flourish.

‘A hermit,’ Junio said, ‘living a humble life. Not at all the sort of person to be impressed with my poor librarium mosaic. I wonder why Crassus bothered.’

‘Crassus did not know that his brother had changed so much,’ I said. ‘He was disappointed. He had hoped for all kinds of orgies and entertainments, so Paulus says.’

Junio laughed. ‘Poor old Crassus. That is the first time I ever felt sorry for him. Although you would have thought that in that case Lucius was even less likely to be impressed by a librarium.’

I took a sip of my delicious mead, and then stopped, my drinking cup still in my hand. ‘What did you say?’

He goggled at me. ‘I said, “I wonder that Germanicus hoped to impress his brother with a pavement.” Why are you staring at me like that?’

I put down my beaker carefully. ‘Because,’ I said, ‘I should have asked myself the same question. When Lucius loved feasts and orgies he did not care for libraria — he would think the money better spent on women and wine. Once he converted to the new religion, he did not care for mortal show. So, if it was not for his brother as he said it was, why did Crassus want the mosaic in such a hurry?’

Junio said nothing.

‘I do not believe he wanted the pavement because of his librarium at all,’ I said, excitedly. ‘I believe he created the librarium as an excuse to have a pavement. People said that he bought manuscripts without caring what they were. “Laundry lists on vellum” would have served the purpose as well as any poet. Perhaps that was true. He sincerely did not care.’

‘He wanted a pavement,’ Junio was visibly working through the argument, ‘because he had buried something under it.’ He looked at me. ‘What do you think it is? Treasure? You said that Crassus’ treasure chest was bare.’

‘There is only one way to find out. We must go back to the villa,’ I said, ‘at once.’ It was my turn to say ‘we’, but Junio looked subdued.

‘We cannot go tonight,’ he protested. ‘It is dark and dangerous, and it has rained all day.’

‘Tomorrow then,’ I conceded. ‘At first light. See you wake me early. And while I am dressing you can go to the market and get some oatcakes for us to eat on the way. It is a fair walk to the villa, and Marcus will not provide his gig this time.’

‘Very well, master.’ It was not like Junio. I had tried to be breezy but he seemed cast down.

Suddenly I realised what he was thinking. I reached out a clumsy hand to pat his arm. ‘I’m sorry about your pavement.’

I was right. He grinned at me ruefully. ‘So am I,’ he said.