The Vestal Vanishes

TWELVE

I glanced in the direction that he was indicating and saw the pudgy slave in temple livery hurrying back out through the gate. I stepped towards him.

‘Excuse me,’ I said politely. ‘I believe you are the slave who was asked by Publius to keep watch on the-’

He brushed my words aside as though I were a slave myself. ‘Indeed I am, and I sincerely wish that I were not. I might have been excused this irksome duty otherwise. I am off to the household where he is staying now, so please excuse me, I have work to do. It’s miles to the villa, and I don’t know where it is.’

It was impolite of course. From any other servant such rudeness to a citizen would be a flogging crime, but temple slaves are prone to see themselves as servants of the gods and therefore not subject to merely mortal rules. Besides, I wanted to gain his confidence.

‘You are going to the household of Lavinius?’ I gestured to my companions who were by this time loading the box into the gig. ‘In that case, friend, we may be of help to you. We have his gig-man with us, and he is driving back. He has that large box to carry, so there won’t be room for you, but he could travel slowly to guide you to the house.’

I did not point out that it was effectively a funeral-carriage now. It would make no difference to Audelia, I thought, whether she travelled swiftly home or not — and personally I would prefer that the journey took as long as possible. It would give me time to set off for Corinium, before Publius could change his mind and call me back. After all, I had been commissioned to bring back his bride for him, and once that was achieved I had no formal contract with him any more. In fact, once he discovered her mutilated body in the box and found out that Druids were apparently involved, I was sure that he would fear a curse and want to distance himself from the whole family as soon as possible. But I’m a stubborn man and the presence of the mistletoe intrigued me very much; I was more anxious than ever to discover the truth.

And this self-important pudgy slave might help me. ‘Let me take you to the gig-boy,’ I suggested, with a smile.

My attempts to woo his friendship were ineffectual. He made an impatient noise. ‘There is no time for that. I have a message from the pontifex which must get there as soon as possible. I have been told to find a hiring-carriage which will take me there, my master is using the temple coach himself. He still intends to go to Corinium tonight, it seems — though it is long past noon and he will barely get there before dark.’ He looked around. ‘There doesn’t seem to be a carriage for hire anywhere,’ he fumed. ‘I would expect to find several hereabouts at this time of the day.’ He nodded in the direction of the hiring-stable close nearby, where they customarily let out carriages and drivers for payment by the mile.

He was so full of outraged self-importance that I almost smiled. ‘There may not be one available today,’ I pointed out. ‘With the Emperor’s birthday and this evening’s feasts, perhaps they have all been previously engaged.’ He frowned. ‘Then it will have to be a carrying-litter, I suppose…’ he began.

Suddenly it struck me. I had been so busy trying to win his confidence that I had missed the real significance of what was being said. ‘But why would the pontifex change his mind about going to Corinium tonight? You said he was “still going there”. What did you mean by that?’

The puffy face turned pink. ‘It is a matter of the utmost delicacy, citizen. A temple matter, I think that you could say.’ He gave me a bland smile. ‘Now if you will pardon me…’ He moved as if to leave.

‘It wouldn’t be about that missing Vestal Virgin, I suppose?’

That stopped him in his tracks. Pink turned to scarlet. ‘How do you know that?’

I ignored the question and asked one of my own. ‘Has the temple had some kind of message from the Druids?’

His plump brow puckered into puzzled folds. ‘What have Druids got to do with it?’ He gazed into my face, then said as though he read the answer there, ‘You don’t mean that they have taken her away? Great Jupiter! I’d better go and let the high priest know at once. He’s just had the message that she’d disappeared, but if he knows they’ve captured her, it may be that he won’t go to Corinium at all. Then he can go and give this message to her family himself.’

He was already turning to go back through the gate but I caught him by the dark red fabric of his sleeve. ‘Wait just a moment. What do you mean by that? Surely the high priest has known this news for hours? And wasn’t he going to Corinium to link up with Lavinia…?’ I trailed off, seeing the expression on his face. ‘Lavinia is missing?’ I said disbelievingly. ‘Is that what you are saying? She’s disappeared as well?’

He pulled his tunic roughly from my grasp. ‘I can’t discuss the matter, citizen.’

‘Oh, but you can!’ I said. I pulled out Publius’s letter and waved it at the slave. ‘I have been charged by the family to find out what I can — as this letter would tell you, if you want to break the seal and check?’

He shook his head as I had known he would. Breaking the seal on a fastened writing-tablet was a serious affair, especially when the writer was a citizen of note. But Publius’s insignia was unmistakeable.

‘I believe you, citizen. I recognize the seal and you obviously know much about the matter anyway,’ he said with a great deal more respect than he had shown me up to now. ‘So I’ll tell you what I know.’

I waited.

He ran a nervous tongue around his lips. ‘The pontifex was to set off for Corinium, as you seem to be aware, to link up with the girl Lavinia and escort her on the rest of her journey to the Vestal House. It is highly inconvenient at this time of day, but her parents were generous and it had been specially arranged. He was ritually preparing for the journey when a messenger arrived with a missive from the guest house where she had stayed last night.’

I nodded. ‘With her attendant, as I understand?’

‘An aging nursemaid who had served her all her life. She was the one who first raised the alarm. It seems that once her cousin left the house, Lavinia went and shut herself away, resting and fasting in an upper room, preparing herself quietly for her new life at the shrine. But at shortly after noon she called out to the nurse — who had been set to sit all morning just outside the door — and sent down for a simple meal of bread and milk. The nurse went down to get it instantly, of course, and she and the lodging-keeper’s wife went straight up with the tray. But when they tapped the door there was no answer from within. The boarding-house woman pushed the door ajar…’

‘And found that Lavinia wasn’t there?’ I finished, almost unable to believe the words myself.

He nodded. ‘They thought at first the girl was in her bed — there was a lump underneath the covers, it appears — but when they went to shake her, they found it was just clothes, piled up to give the impression of a human form. And there was a rope of twisted bedding dangling from the window-space down into the court, which in turn, gave out onto the road. They searched, of course, but no one had seen or heard the girl.’

‘And the nurse?’

‘The loading-keeper had her seized at once and locked away, awaiting questioning. She’s quite distraught, of course, but it does not seem that she has very much to tell. She was in sight of the inn-servants all morning, anyway.’ He gave me a rather quizzical look. ‘I know you mentioned Druids, citizen, but this business does not sound like Druid handiwork to me. It looks more as if Lavinia has contrived to run away.’

I had to admit that it did look probable. Yet there were objections. ‘But where could she run to? Her father would hardly consent to have her back. The best that she could hope for — if he was merciful — was to be sent into exile to some barren isle with nothing to her name. But I don’t think mercy is his speciality. He might even sell her into slavery; he would have legal cause. She has disgraced the family — broken her parents’ vow and made a mockery of them. It would be the talk of Glevum for a moon — and that’s not something her father would lightly tolerate, if I am any judge.’

He took a moment to consider that. ‘The pontifex supposed that — being only six years old — she would run home again but Mars knows you are right. Lavinius is not obliged to have her back, and the temple would not take her after this — of course — not without Lavinius making it worthwhile. But from what you say it’s much more likely that he’d cast her out and then her fate would be deplorable. But surely his daughter would have realized that?’ He paused. ‘Or perhaps she did, since there’s been no sign of her.’

‘So where would she have gone? She has no family in Corinium — otherwise she and Audelia would have lodged with them, of course, as Audelia had done in other places on the way. She can hardly walk unnoticed around an unknown town alone — a well-dressed wealthy child like that — and she won’t have any money to pay for lodging-rooms. Besides, according to the raedarius over there, she was excited about her future life.’

‘Dear Jupiter. I do believe you’re right. Perhaps somebody did take her captive and smuggle her away, and deliberately arrange the room to make it look like flight. Though if so, they must have watched the house and seized the moment when the poor nursemaid was not sitting on the step and when none of the other servants were about. If it was not Lavinia acting by herself, this must have been meticulously planned.’ He frowned at me. ‘What makes you think the Druids might have been involved?’

I glanced towards the gig, where Ascus and the others had by now arranged the box and were in the act of putting back the lid. ‘It rather looks as if they laid hands on her aunt,’ I said.

He had not seen what was in the box, of course, and his voice was casual. ‘The bride of Publius, who did not appear?’

‘Exactly.’

The pink eyes widened. ‘I did hear a rumour that she hadn’t come, but I thought it was just gossip, or perhaps she’d changed her mind. I didn’t know that she was taken off by Druids. But you think it is connected?’

‘Two disappearances in a single day — both of them Vestals, or very close to it — and taken both from Corinium, by the look of it. Hardly a coincidence, do you suppose?’

He nodded. ‘You are right. I’d better go and tell the pontifex. If the Druids have captured the young woman, we must think again. If she had simply run back to her family as we had supposed, her service to the temple might just have been excused as childish nervousness — given sufficient extra dowry — just as a shy bride can be forgiven for unwillingness on her wedding day. But this is different. Obviously the Vestals will never have her now — this is too bad an omen for a novitiate. Too bad for almost anything, in fact. There will most likely be a ransom to be paid, if you’re to get her back, and even that won’t be the end of it. She’ll carry the stigma of bad luck all her life. Perhaps her parents can arrange a match for her, something quiet in a year or two — some older man who’d be glad to take the dowry she would bring and is not too worried about her history.’

I noted that he had subtly washed his hands of her: the words ‘if you’re to get her back’ had made that very clear. ‘But you’ll still inform her parents?’ I enquired. ‘After all, the pontifex was to take charge of her.’

He shook his head. ‘Not until this evening. So it’s no longer our affair. And you should be the one to tell them, surely, citizen? If you are going back to the villa with the box, and you are somebody the family trusts.’

I had to smile inwardly at his view of my role but perhaps I had led him to suppose I was a trusted friend. ‘I am not returning to the household,’ I explained. ‘I am charged with travelling to Corinium — just as the pontifex had arranged to do. And I must leave at once. So I am afraid you will have to deliver that message for yourself — as you were ordered to — unless you wish to send it by the gig-driver?’

‘It hardly seems fitting, but perhaps I could.’ But he was tempted. I could read it on his face.

‘He is already carrying serious news,’ I urged. ‘About the likely involvement of the Druids. We’ve just discovered that. And in that connection, you could help us, perhaps. I know that you were asked to guard the raeda through the day — did anyone come close to it or speak to you at all?’

‘Only some pock-faced trader who tried to look inside, obviously bursting with curiosity. But I knew my duty. I sent him away. I told him nothing. Did you think I would?’

‘And you did not for an instant leave your post? Not even to…?’ I waved towards the large pot just outside the gates, where someone from the wine-shop was busily engaged in providing urine for the fuller’s shop. ‘Or to eat and drink? It was a long time that you were standing there.’

He shook his head and gave a grimace that might have been a smile. ‘When you work at the temple, citizen, you learn great self-control. Some of the ceremonies can go on for hours. And as for food and water, today’s a fast for us, until we celebrate the birthday feast tonight with a special meal at the temple slave-quarters.’

‘So nobody could possibly have tampered with the box?’

‘Not without my knowledge, citizen. And I saw nobody.’ He was emphatic now.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Thank you for your help. Now if you would like to go over to the gig and pass your message on, I will take the raeda and set off at once. It is a long way to Corinium and when I get there I have to find the house.’

‘Can’t you tell them for me, citizen?’ the slave began, but Ascus was already striding towards us by this time.

‘The gig is ready, citizen, and the raedarius is waiting for your orders to depart.’

I turned to the temple-slave who was boggling at the giant. ‘Then I will leave you to pass your message to the gig-driver. I think we’ve finished here. Very well, Ascus, help me to my seat. On the front of the raeda with the driver would be best — then you can call him and we’ll be on our way.’ I beckoned to the raedarius and he came across while I let Ascus hoist me to my seat.

‘Are we ready?’ the raeda-driver asked, climbing gingerly aboard and picking up his whip. I nodded my assent. Ascus had vaulted up onto his horse again, and was already clearing a path for us through the now thinning crowds. I took a last look back.

In the distance I could see the gig with the box wedged into it. The temple-slave saying something to the gig-driver, who looked up and waved frantically at us.

I made a swift decision and waved politely back. I had not told my two companions that Lavinia had gone. I would tell them later — when we were on our way. Otherwise, I feared a mutiny.

I settled in my seat. ‘Lead on,’ I called to Ascus, and we rattled off.