The Legatus Mystery

Chapter Twenty-four

I was rather pleased with my deduction and expected my statement to cause a little stir, but I had forgotten that the steward’s identity was no surprise to anyone but me.

Hirsus nodded tearfully, and Meritus said, ‘Indeed, Sacredness, it’s true. Lucianus was a penitent of mine. His master would not release him, and he felt that he had mortally offended the Imperial gods. He has made handsome offerings to the shrine.’

‘I have seen some of them,’ I said. ‘Gold, silver, jewellery. . all kinds of things. That’s why I was so slow to recognise his identity. How could a mere slave afford such offerings?’

Marcus was tapping his baton on his hand. ‘Stealing from his master, doubtless? Sevir, you are an expert in the metal trade. You must have known the value of such things? Did you not ask where he obtained them from?’

The sevir said coldly, ‘It is not my place to ask him, Excellence. If a man comes to the temple, and offers repeated sacrifices in good faith, it does not occur to me that he may be a thief. That is a crime with heavy penalties. If that were proved. .’

‘There is no need to look for explanations, Excellence. I helped him,’ Hirsus said, with unexpected dignity. ‘He had no need to steal from Optimus. I am a wealthy man.’

Marcus looked at me, with an expression which said that he believed none of it.

‘Excellence, I think he’s telling you the truth,’ I said. ‘When we were working at the house one of the slaves told us that he’d seen Lithputh — Lucianius — secretly receiving money from a priest.’ For services rendered, presumably, I thought to myself, although I didn’t say the words aloud. In fact, I was careful not to say too much. Hirsus was already in danger from the law.

For a man to love another man is not unknown, and there is no legal barrier to having intercourse with a slave of either sex: many citizens keep pretty boys or youths precisely to gratify their procilivities. The danger for Hirsus — and a serious one — lay in the fact that this was not his slave. Using another man’s slave, for anything, without the permission of his owner is legally a form of theft, and there are nasty punishments for that — though only, of course, if an accuser can be found. I didn’t want to take that role — I was concerned with murder, not with lust.

The prisoner on the floor moaned softly and stirred, and I seized the interruption eagerly. ‘In any case,’ I said, ‘it seems the Phrygian is regaining consciousness. You’ll have an opportunity to ask him for yourself.’

‘That is the least of what he has to answer for!’ the high priest said, echoing my thoughts. ‘If he has desecrated the Imperial shrine — committed murder in the precinct of the gods — and killed a Priest of Jupiter no less. .!’ He quavered into silence as if his voice had failed him.

Marcus nodded. ‘The punishment will be terrible indeed.’ He’d adopted his magisterial tone again. ‘My judgement is that this has endangered the safety of the town, and would call for the severest penalties. The hook, perhaps, even for a man with personal rights. For a slave like this. .’

There was an uncomfortable silence. The hook is an appalling death — being whipped half dead, then dragged around the town behind a chariot by an iron hook thrust through the flesh. And when Marcus talked of ‘his judgement’ these were more than idle words: he was the highest magistrate in this part of the province. A freeman is entitled to a trial before the courts, and a citizen can even appeal to the Emperor, but for a mere slave Marcus’s word was law. If Marcus had uttered the same words in the curia, the sentence would have been instantly imposed.

Hirsus had beads of nervous perspiration on his brow. ‘How can you say so, with him lying there like that? He’s hurt. He has been beaten. He’s not even had an opportunity to defend himself — and you are already planning horrors for his death!’

Sevir Meritus looked at his assistant priest. ‘It’s hard to see how he can defend himself — discovered at the scene, where he’d no right to be, with bloodstains on his clothes. But perhaps we should have him locked up and brought to trial — it will satisfy the mob. They have been looking for a sacrifice. There will be no difficulty — there are accusers enough against him. And then we shall see what he has to say about his crimes.’

Hirsus blanched at this, and looked as if he might faint. The outcome of a public trial might be crueller still. But he said nothing.

Marcus, however, was enthusiastic. ‘A good thought, sevir. It will appease the crowd, and make it seem that justice has been done. And if we lock him up, he can’t escape.’ That was an important consideration — under the laws of Rome a man cannot be formally tried unless both an accuser and the defendant himself can be produced. ‘Very well, take him away.’

The slaves half lifted the unconscious man. He moaned and for a moment his eyelids fluttered, but a swift kick from one of his captors quieted him again.

Marcus turned to me. ‘He needs a proper guard. Where is the armed contingent that I sent?’

‘Most of them are in the temple precinct, Excellence,’ I said. ‘Some are on guard, others are disposing of the bones, and the rest are dealing with Trinunculus.’

‘And where is he?’ Marcus looked avuncular.

‘We have used the bed that’s in the robing room. The sevir said. .’ But I didn’t finish.

The pontifex had raised his head and begun to howl. ‘The grove, the altar and the robing room. This is intolerable! This is the most holy place in Glevum, and you’re turning it into a storehouse for the dead!’

‘The centurion wanted to bring Trinunculus back here,’ I pointed out. ‘Custom demands that he should be anointed on his bed. But I did not wish to do so, without informing you. I know your vows do not permit-’

The pontifex, who had been in a state of agitation all along, suddenly seemed to give way to frustration, like a child. ‘Great gods!’ he whinnied, throwing up his withered hands. ‘Don’t ask me what I think. Do as you please. Bring them all in — soldiers, corpses, thieves, bones, murderers! What does it matter now? Why not hold a market in the temple court? I’ve spent long enough chasing them away — sellers of birds, charms, amulets — invite them all! I’m sure there are a hundred slaves and women who’d like to pay a visit to the sanctuary — as the Christians do — or have a hand in sacrificing bulls. Why not? Why not? Nothing is sacred any more.’

Everyone was staring at him in astonishment. Even the two slaves who were dragging Lithputh from the room paused for a moment in their efforts to look back at the priest. His usually ashen face was scarlet now, and he was trembling with emotion.

‘Pontifex. .’ Marcus murmured, but it did no good.

‘Pontifex!’ the old man stormed, shrill with ineffectual rage. ‘What kind of Priest of Jupiter am I? All these years of ritual, fulfilling every item of the law, and more! And look what it has brought me to! The legate coming, and my temple the centre of bloodshed and riot! Even Jupiter has turned against me. I thought I read his hand in these events — but what were they? The actions and machinations of a slave! The body of a beggar from the pit! He thundered earlier, and I hoped to learn his will — to what effect? Even my pathetic effort to placate the gods tonight is doomed! This will teach me to have inflated dreams of being Flamen Dialis. Go, slaves, tell the city the procession’s cancelled and your foolish pontifex is duly punished for his presumption.’

There was an astonished pause. You could have heard a feather drop: no sound except the drumming of the rain. The two house slaves who were standing by the wall looked uncertainly at Marcus, as if appealing for his authority.

He gave it. ‘Tell them it has been postponed. Until the legate’s visit. Jove has delivered the culprit to us now. In the meantime, there will be perpetual vigil in the court. I think that’s best.’

The slaves looked grateful, and slipped silently away.

‘You see?’ the pontifex said bitterly. ‘My orders countermanded in my own house.’ He turned and blundered wildly from the room, brushing past Aurelia who was coming in, accompanied by her page.

‘Husband?’ she called after him, but he disappeared without a backward glance.

She came into the room. ‘Citizen, there have been people asking. .’ she began, and stopped, aware of the startled atmosphere. ‘Why, what has happened? Why is my husband so disturbed?’ She looked at the two men dragging Lithputh out, and her face turned whiter than the lupin powder with which it was dusted. ‘What are they doing to that man?’

Not ‘who is this man and what’s he doing here?’ I noticed. It was his arrest which caused this alarm. Another little piece of pattern fitted into place. ‘This is Lucianus, lady, steward to Optimus,’ I said. ‘As I believe you know.’

She did not deny it. She was still staring as they dragged him senseless from the room. ‘But why. .?’

‘Because he was found lurking in the temple court,’ I said. I was aware of the eyes of everyone in the room, watching me intently. ‘He came through here earlier, I think?’

She looked at me then, her pale cheeks turning red. ‘He did indeed. Is there some reason he should not have done? He had my permission — though I don’t know how you knew.’

‘You told me earlier, in this very room, that Optimus was pleased with the repairs to his pavement. I wondered about that at the time. How could you possibly have known that — unless you had some contact with someone from the house? When I saw the steward in the court, I understood.’ She looked so taken aback that I took pity on her, and added, ‘In any case he could hardly have gone in through the other gate — the slaves had closed it to keep out the mob.’

‘So,’ Marcus said, frowning at her, ‘Lucianus chose tonight to ask if he could enter the temple by the inner door? After all that had been happening at the shrine! You didn’t think that it was rather odd?’

Aurelia looked as if she was about to speak, but changed her mind. She stared down at her hands and said nothing.

‘But it was not the first time, was it?’ I was reasoning aloud. ‘The Phrygian had often come this way before. It was some arrangement that he had with you — is that not so, lady?’

She nodded, but she did not raise her eyes. ‘He sometimes carried things for me, that’s all. Nothing of importance, to anyone but me.’

I thought of the time I’d glimpsed her in the garden, and the piece of folded bark she’d tried to hide. ‘Letters, perhaps?’ I hazarded, and saw by the scarlet in her cheeks that I was right. ‘Letters you did not want your husband’s slaves to see?’ It was not a difficult deduction. Why else would a woman avoid using her own servants for the task?

She started as though I’d stung her with a lash. ‘Well, citizen, and if it was? There is no infidelity in a piece of bark. I wanted news of someone, that’s all, simply to know that he was safe — but my husband would not countenance even the mention of his name.’

‘But surely, Optimus. .?’ I began. I was not making sense of this.

She interrupted before I could show my ignorance. ‘Optimus knew nothing, citizen. He was in touch with his old cohort, that was all. He mentioned it one evening when he called on us. I knew that Tertius had been posted to the same legion. Of course I couldn’t ask Optimus directly — he would have told my husband instantly — but I made a friend of him and enlisted his steward when I could. Whenever Optimus sent missives to the legion, Lucianus ensured that mine went too, with the messenger — and if there was a reply, he intercepted it and brought it here.’ She seemed to realise the impropriety of this, and added quickly, ‘It did not happen often, citizen. I am a married woman, and Tertius cannot take a wife until his service ends.’

‘Tertius is the young cavalry officer you left behind in Rome?’ I said.

She was quite feminine when she blushed so charmingly. ‘He is in Britannia now, attached to one of the legions here. I did not wish the pontifex to know. Not for my own sake, but for Tertius. Marcellus Fabius is my uncle — as perhaps you are aware since it seems you know all my business, citizen — and my family always disapproved of Tertius. They would have posted him away, put him in the front line somewhere where he would be killed. Tertius is a contarius,’ she added with pride, naming the rarest and newest of the degrees of cavalry, ‘and though he’s a skilled horseman, that is dangerous. He writes that he has fallen several times — it’s hard to balance that long lance while you’re holding yourself on a galloping horse with nothing but your knees.’

Meritus was looking impatient at all this. ‘So,’ he thundered, ‘not only do you deceive your husband by receiving letters from this man, but you encourage Optimus’s slave to creep into the temple court at night — again without your husband’s knowledge — to murder and desecrate the shrine. Are you attempting to make fools of us?’

‘I’m not attempting to make fools of anyone, sevir,’ she retorted with some spirit. ‘Lucianus was unhappy and so was I. We tried to help each other, that is all. At first I paid him, or gave him trinkets and ornaments to sell — he was trying to acquire his slave-price and buy himself free — but he soon told me it was hopeless, and asked for my help in this instead. He often went this way to the temple secretly, sometimes quite late at night. It wasn’t difficult. Even if my husband was in the house he wouldn’t hear.’

‘But what about your slaves?’ I asked, aware of her page gazing up at her in disbelief. ‘Surely they must have been aware of it?’

She smiled grimly. ‘Lucianus always went directly to the temple, sometimes with offerings in his hands. Often he didn’t even speak to me. I told the slaves it was a sort of ritual — making secret offerings for me before the shrine — in case I should become the flamen’s wife. They are accustomed to strange doings in this house. It’s no odder than insisting a plate of new-baked cakes be left untouched on a table by your bed each night — just so that you have an instant sacrifice to hand, in case you’re called on to officiate!’

Marcus got up from his chair to come and clap me on the back. ‘Well done, Libertus. You have solved the mystery, as usual. That wretched steward came in here, and crept into the temple secretly. Presumably to meet his friend. .’ He emphasised the word derisively and glanced at Hirsus who was cowering by the door. ‘I still think he was stealing from his master, too — those gifts we saw were too rich for a slave. Someone must have known of that, and threatened to expose him as a thief, so Lucianus murdered him and then exchanged the body for the bones.’ He looked at Hirsus again, and this time his glance was much less friendly. ‘No doubt with help, as Libertus suggested earlier.’

Servir Meritus nodded. He seemed deep in thought. ‘That would make sense, Excellence. Perhaps Trinunculus disturbed him in the act and had to be silenced too, before he talked. Trinunculus was a pleasant fellow but he always had a tendency to say too much. And — I regret to say this — but Hirsus could have been in the grove at the important time. I sent him there myself.’

Hirsus had turned the colour of curdled milk. ‘Excellences, by all the gods I swear — I was not part of this. I did not touch Trinunculus — or the bones. And if Lucianus came to the temple court by night, it wasn’t to see me. That would have been a sacrilege, and besides there are always temple slaves about. I wouldn’t dare!’

But Marcus wasn’t listening. He wore a look of great complacency. ‘Seize him, Libertus!’ he said, and there was little I could do except obey.