The Ghosts of Glevum

IV

Julia was waiting in her dressing room, a little ante-room next to the smaller of the two adjoining bedchambers which Marcus had constructed for their use. The original master of the house was not a married man, and all the bedrooms round the central colonnade — though luxurious — were self-contained: small individual rooms which opened off the court. This further wing had been my patron’s fantasy, a tribute to his beautiful new wife, and he had showed me proudly round it when it was complete.

It consisted of this connubial suite (well-bred Roman couples always have separate rooms, a practice I have never understood), a nursery and a servants’ room nearby, and a fine new librarium as well, all situated around another little walled enclosure containing a statue of Venus and a lily pond. The extension to the front façade, through which I’d just approached, also provided another small triclinium, an intimate dining area the family had used when the approaching birth had kept Julia from any public gaze, and where she could still dine in comfort and apart on purely masculine occasions such as tonight’s. I still hoped for a commission for a floor in there — the current plastered one was only a temporary expedient, hurriedly laid down by the builder to ensure that the room was ready by the promised date.

‘Libertus.’ Julia rose to her feet to welcome me. She had been sitting on a little gilded stool, surrounded by her maids, and was now demurely dressed in a warm dark-coloured Grecian robe with a cloak around her shoulders and her arms, and her hair obscured by its handsome hood. Of course, it was much more fitting garb, for both the climate and the company, but I was a little disappointed at the change. I may be an old man — at over fifty I am one of the oldest men in Glevum — but I am still susceptible to female charms.

She misinterpreted my glance and shook her head. ‘It was foolish of me to come out like that, I know, but I did not stop to think. I was told that they’d seized Marcus, so I came just as I was. However, I have recovered my wits now, as you see.’

‘I see that you have wrapped up against the cold.’

She gave a bitter laugh. ‘And against the wagging of malicious tongues. With Marcus gone, there might be allegations of impropriety. Of course the idea is perfectly absurd, old friend — no one could imagine you in such a role — but those who have trumped up charges against my husband would no doubt gladly do the same against his wife.’

I nodded glumly. Her absolute discounting of me as a virile male was hardly flattering, but I did see what she meant. She was alone in private with a man at night and in her personal quarters too. It was most unusual for anyone but the spouse to bring charges of adultery, but it was not utterly impossible, and for those found guilty of the crime the punishment was cruel.

I said, ‘Marcus has appointed me your guardian. It would be hard to make an accusation stick, even if there was anyone to bring a charge. Besides, you have your maidservants as witnesses.’ This was thin comfort, as we were both aware: the presence of slaves — especially female ones — would hardly signify. However, my own words did give me an idea. ‘Perhaps you could send one of your attendants to go and fetch my slave as well? He will be waiting in the servants’ quarters in the main part of the house.’

She gave a wan smile. ‘Of course. Cilla, see to it.’ She nodded to one of the handmaidens, a large and rather lumpy girl, who trotted off at once. All the time that I’d known Julia, she’d always surrounded herself with unattractive maids, not out of compassion for their plight, to offer the poor things employ, but so that she could sparkle the more in comparison. It was an unnecessary and rather disappointing vanity. Julia would have sparkled in any company. Even now in the flickering light from the oil lamps, muffled in a cloak and looking tired and strained, she was astonishingly beautiful. If I did not have a dear and much-loved woman of my own, I might have envied Marcus his delightful wife.

One of the female slaves had brought a stool for me, but I preferred to stand. Julia, however, sank down again and muttered in a breaking voice, ‘Libertus, what are we going to do? To accuse Marcus — Marcus! — of murdering a guest! And a senior officer in the army, too! Of course my husband hated Praxus, we all knew that, but Marcus would have contained his power in other ways. This is simply unbelievable!’

‘Contained his power?’ I must have been peculiarly dense that night.

Julia seemed to think so. She gave me a startled look. ‘Of course. The three of them were to rule the area, under Pertinax’s nominal control, until the new provincial governor is installed. Surely you were aware of that?’

I was, of course. I nodded.

‘Praxus seemed to think that, since he had the army under his command, he was the one with ultimate authority. Obviously Marcus was not happy about that. He was the senior man, if anything — he was named as the governor’s personal representative in Glevum long ago. And not only that, Marcus was concerned about the rule of law. Praxus has come here from Gaul, and his idea of exercising power there was always to use his forces first and ask questions afterwards.’

I looked at her with admiration. How many pampered Roman wives could give so cogent an account of their husbands’ political concerns? Marcus was a lucky man indeed. I said, ‘And they quarrelled about that? I heard that there had been an argument.’

Julia coloured. Even in the shadowy light I could see that the cheeks beneath the hood were flushed with red — and not merely from the brazier at her side. ‘Not exactly that,’ she muttered awkwardly.

‘What then?’ My mind was on disturbances in Gaul. There had been several recent instances of civilian unrest in that province, which the army had repeatedly put down. Perhaps Praxus’s methods had been needed there. But in Britannia it had been the other way. Here it was a group of legionaries who’d rebelled, wanting to overthrow the Emperor and set up Governor Pertinax in his place, until Pertinax himself loyally subdued them, and denounced the ringleaders to Rome. The whole event had almost got him killed — one reason why he’d begged to be replaced. It had also won him mortal enemies among those jostling for Imperial regard and, since Marcus had supported Pertinax throughout, presumably my patron might be a target too. This was a seriously worrying thought.

Julia’s answer to my question, therefore, astonished me. ‘I was the cause of the quarrel, I’m afraid.’

‘You?’

‘Praxus had just come from Gaul. Marcus presented me to him — he was after all a guest in our house — but Praxus, well. .! His behaviour was positively uncivilised. He started with lewd looks and ribald jokes. Then, when he heard that I’d just had a child, he made some extremely coarse remarks about what Marcus must have done to bring that about, and suggested that he’d like to do the same — with graphic variations on the theme. He seemed to expect Marcus to be flattered and amused. All this in my presence, too, as if I had no ears.’

‘And Marcus took exception to all this?’

‘Well, not at first, at least not publicly. He kept telling me that Praxus was a military man, and used to soldiers’ ways, how he couldn’t marry till he surrendered his command and very likely had to leave a would-be wife in Gaul, and that anyway we should forgive him because he was a guest. Oh, Marcus made every excuse for him at first. And then Praxus asked for a female slave to bring a phial of oil to his room, and used her when she came, without so much as asking our permission first. That did it. Marcus really lost his temper then. That was more than simply uncouth words, he said, it was a kind of theft.’

I nodded, closing my eyes in horror at the tale. My wife Gwellia had been a slave — captured into servitude with me when we were young — and though she never talked about those years, every time I caught a glimpse of what her life must have been it struck chill to my heart. I had been luckier: although I was mistreated for a while, I was sold at last to a just and wealthy man who had not only had me taught a trade, but bequeathed me my freedom when he died.

Julia, though, was typically Roman in her attitude. She nodded, misinterpreting my pain. ‘Unforgivable, was it not? And Praxus seemed to feel that he’d done nothing wrong — that any slave was simply his to take, as if he was the Emperor himself. I think that is really what sparked the quarrel off. One thing led to another then, and harsh words were said, until Marcus threatened to take him to the courts. Then Praxus did calm down a little. He even apologised, after a fashion, saying that if a guest of his had asked for a female slave he would have known how to interpret it; and that he was sorry if he’d offended me, but he thought that as I’d been married twice before I was no shrinking virgin to be horrified by a man’s carnal needs.’

It was true. Julia had been once widowed, once divorced, although that had not prevented her from marrying again: indeed it had simply increased her dowry. The Romans have a laxer attitude to these things than we Celts. As an apology, however, it left much to be desired. I found myself grinning slightly, for the first time that night, though there was little enough to smile at, even now.

Julia gave a tiny laugh. ‘I know, old friend. It is bizarre. Then, in his anxiety to heal the breach, Praxus asked my husband — in all seriousness, it seems — whether he would be prepared to divorce me again, now that he had his son and heir, so that Praxus could marry me himself.’

‘But I thought. .’

‘In a few months’ time, of course, when this interregnum is over. Praxus would be old enough by then, and if he chose to do so he could draw his pension and retire. He was a wealthy man, he said, and he invited Marcus to name the “fee”. He even offered to give him a substantial sum to ensure that no one else could negotiate for me between now and then! And when Marcus protested, Praxus looked surprised again, and said that people do this all the time in Rome. He didn’t ask me what I thought.’

‘And what did you think?’ I asked, although I was pretty sure I knew the answer anyway.

‘That hairy giant?’ Julia looked appalled. ‘I’d run a knife between his ribs — or mine — before I’d marry him. He cleans his fingernails with his teeth, and spits.’

‘He did,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t any more. And, lady — Julia — take care what you say. It was not a knife between the ribs, but someone did murder him. The Emperor has spies everywhere. I’m sure your slaves are loyal, but you never know who may be listening.’

As if on cue, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the court. Another larger shadow followed it. My heart gave a lurch and Julia clutched my arm, but then a familiar voice said, ‘Master?’ and I breathed again.

It was my attendant, Junio, and the lumpy slave who had gone to find him from the house. ‘Mistress, I am sorry if we startled you,’ the girl said. ‘And you too, citizen. But there is such a commotion in the house that I thought it better to come the long way round and bring the slave by the back gate. Even so, we just escaped the guards. They are hunting for Golbo. They have been everywhere in the main part of the house, and — oh, madam — I believe they will come here very soon and question you. What will you tell them if they do?’

‘That he is not here, of course, since he very evidently is not,’ Julia said quickly.

Too quickly. Suddenly my brain, which had been lulled to sleep by too much wine, struggled into consciousness again. Golbo was the bucket-boy who had disappeared. ‘But he was here, wasn’t he? Dear lady, do not attempt to deny the truth, especially to me. How can I hope to help you otherwise? Of course the boy was here. How else did you hear the news that Marcus had been seized? No one else left the colonnade after the guards arrived.’

‘With respect, master, that is not entirely true,’ Junio put in. ‘A slave came from the banquet hall several times to fetch servants from the waiting room when their owners wanted to go home, both before the soldiers came, and afterwards.’ He gave me his familiar cheeky grin. ‘I was hoping you were going to call for me, but it was a long time before you did. In the end there were only a half a dozen of us there — apart from Praxus’s and Mellitus’s personal slaves, of course, but they were staying in the house.’

I had forgotten that. ‘nonetheless,’ I said, ‘I saw those people come and go. I still believe that Golbo — is that his name? — came here.’

Julia nodded. ‘You are quite right. The poor lad did come here. I think he hoped that I could shelter him.’

‘And did you?’

‘He changed his mind. He told me what had happened, then took fright and ran away. I’m not surprised.’

‘Did you attempt to stop him?’

She looked at me. ‘I did not. He has a legal right to flee, you know, if he fears ill-treatment.’

‘Ill-treatment at his owner’s hands,’ I said. ‘And only to another patron, then.’

She shrugged her lovely shoulders. ‘I know. All the same, citizen, I let him go. I didn’t have the heart to have him chased and caught. Especially when I saw what those guards had done to our other poor slave in the colonnade. Hacked him to death for attempting to defend his master, although the poor boy was doing no more than his duty. Golbo had prepared me for the sight, but even so I was shocked when I saw just how cruelly they had hewn him down. No wonder poor Golbo was so terrified. He was just obeying orders too. He was instructed to refill the pail, he said, and he went to the nympheum to get water as he was told. But he was afraid that he’d be killed for saying so — and more, that he would betray Marcus if he did.’

I frowned. If Marcus had sent the bucket-boy away, then things looked bad for him. Was that why he’d been uneasy earlier? I almost asked Julia to reiterate, but Junio seized the opportunity to speak.

‘Killed? Hacked to death? Master, what has been happening here? I heard that there had been an accident and Praxus choked to death. But no one said anything about violence to the slaves, only that Marcus had been obliged to go down with the guards, to take the body back and explain to the commander of the garrison what had occurred.’

‘That is one way of putting it,’ I said, mentally applauding the discretion of Marcus’s messenger. ‘More accurately expressed, Marcus has been formally accused of homicide. Praxus’s death was not an accident.’ I gave him a brief outline of events.

‘Great Mithras!’ Junio exclaimed. He was clearly shaken: he did not often swear on Roman gods. ‘Then, master, you are in danger staying here. By your own account you were the first upon the scene, and if Marcus did order the bucket-boy away, and then called on you, it might seem that you were an accomplice to all this.’

Julia rose to her feet again at this. ‘He is quite right, Citizen Libertus. I should have thought of that myself. It was ill-judged of me to bring you here at all. It is important that you go — and now.’

‘But madam, I cannot go and leave you here.’

‘You can. You must. I am a mere woman, and neither Mellitus nor Balbus will take account of me — at least for now. I will send a message to your house. Through Cilla, whom you know you can trust. In the meantime I will find out what I can. Between us we will find some way to set my husband free. Listen. I can hear footsteps in the house. Go — go now. May all the gods protect us.’

Junio murmured in my ear. ‘Don’t go through the front part of the villa. Come through the rear gate — the way I came. I’ll show you the way. Quickly, master, I can see their lights.’

So could I. There was already a glimmer in the passageways. I bent to kiss the lady Julia’s hand and then, still tugged at by my slave, disappeared as silently as possible into the darkness towards the outer wall. It was extremely difficult to see our way, and we made the little gate beside the shrine only a moment before the search party of guards came clattering out into the court.