The Vestal Vanishes

FOURTEEN

It was growing late before the walls of Corinium came into sight, and almost dark by the time that we drew up at the gate. We stated our destination to the guard and he allowed us through — together with a dozen heavy-loaded carts, of the sort which are usually banned from moving in cities during daylight hours. Corinium, being a market town, is more relaxed than some — Glevum, for example, is extremely strict, because of the constant military traffic passing through — but none the less these clanking carts had been held back till dusk and our progress was exasperatingly slow as we followed them into the darkening streets, which were of course too narrow to let us pass or turn.

It had not occurred to me, although it should have done, that the address we were seeking might be hard to find. I have been accustomed, in unfamiliar towns, to staying in the official inns, or mansios, which are built to serve officials and the Imperial post and so are always conveniently placed at or within the gates. This house was simply a spacious private home, which occasionally supplemented the owner’s income by accepting paying guests, and though I’d heard it had a stable-block and court attached to it, I was surprised to learn that the entrance lay down a fairly narrow lane, at the town-wall end of a little line of shops. Fortunately, my companions had both been there before — though even then the raedarius passed the entrance to the alley once and had to drive all the way around the block again.

When we did arrive it was to find another problem awaiting us. The gate into the stable-court was bolted, the windows shuttered and the front doors firmly locked. There was not even the glimmer of a candle anywhere. This was something I hadn’t bargained for — although of course the owners were not expecting us. Granted, many thrifty tradesmen living in the town — not having social lives and banquets to attend — retire at sunset and rise again at dawn, thereby saving heat and lighting fuel, they claim, but it was barely dusk. One would have expected some evidence of life. Even in the thriftiest establishments there are always chores which cannot easily be done in working hours, and generally people require a little time to eat. Perhaps the owners had gone out, I thought — though surely in that case there would be slaves at least? I knew that there were at least two at the establishment, because they had carried the fateful box downstairs.

We knocked and shouted, but to no avail, and I was just beginning to wonder what to do, and whether I should go to the mansio after all, when a shutter opened at a window-space above and an indignant head poked out.

‘What do you mean by coming here and making such a din?’ The grizzled head and irritated tone suggested that this was the owner of the property. ‘This is a respectable household and we are all abed.’

‘Already gone to bed?’ I echoed, in astonishment.

My amazement must have been evident in my tone. ‘We have been busy. It has been a wearing day,’ the man said, snappishly. ‘Now that you know that, kindly go away. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but we are not receiving anyone tonight. If you have business with us of some sort — as I suppose you must — then come back in daylight like anybody else.’

‘But I’ve come to ask for lodgings,’ I began, ‘I understand you-’

The head shook forcefully. ‘Then you’ve come to the wrong place. We don’t take passing trade.’

‘I have an introduction…’ I brought out the writing-block and waved it hopefully towards the window-space — as though he could possibly have read it from up there, even in good light.

He was not impressed. ‘I’m sorry, citizen.’ He did not sound apologetic in the least. ‘I don’t know how you came to hear of us, but you’ve been misinformed. It’s true we do take people now and then, but that’s by prior arrangement only and even then we only deal with families we know. You’ll have to look elsewhere.’ He turned as someone with a lighted taper came into the room.

‘What is it, husband?’ said a female voice.

‘Don’t get excited, wife. It isn’t what you hoped — no news of the young lady you were concerned about. Just some stranger looking for lodgings for the night. Don’t worry, I’ve told him we aren’t able to oblige.’

There was a moment’s hissing conversation, and then a curly dark head joined the grizzled one — only a shadow now against the taper’s light. A plump face looked down self-importantly at me. ‘All our rooms are technically taken anyway.’ She reached for the shutter. ‘Try the mansio.’

‘So I take it that Lavinia has not returned?’ I called, before she had time to shut the window-space on me. She froze — the hand that rested on the shutter seemed to turn to stone.

‘What do you know about Lavinia?’

‘I was sent here by her family,’ I said, though that was not strictly the answer to what she’d asked. ‘And this letter of introduction is from the man who hoped to marry someone else you know, her cousin Audelia who stayed here yesterday.’ I didn’t mention what had happened to the bride — time enough for that news when we got inside. The town would be full of rumours tomorrow as it was — there was at least one listener loitering in a doorway opposite.

There was still no movement from the householders to come and let us in. I had an inspiration, suddenly. ‘If you need further confirmation, ask Audelia’s bodyguard.’ I gestured to Ascus, who was waiting in the shadows by the court-gates, with the horse. ‘No doubt you recognize him? He’s noteworthy enough.’

The woman brought the candle and leaned out to look. When she saw Ascus she gave a little cry. ‘Dear Mars, Trullius! He’s telling us the truth. That is Audelia’s bodyguard — I’d know that giant of a horseman anywhere, and by the gods I do believe that’s her raedarius too — the one that brought Lavinia here and took Audelia on to meet her groom today.’

Ephibbius acknowledged this with a little bow.

She turned to her husband and thumped him on the arm. ‘Trullius, you old fool! Can’t you even look to see who you are talking to! Get downstairs at once and let these people in — tell the stable-slave to have the horses seen to and the stable-bed prepared, and I’ll get something for this citizen to eat. He obviously comes from the family, as he says, and we are in enough trouble with them as it is.’

He muttered something which I could not hear.

‘We’ll manage! We’ll keep the attic room in case the girl comes back, and he can have my bed, like that couple did last night. I’ll just have to sleep in the servant’s room again.’ She gave him a sharp push. ‘Well, get downstairs, what are you waiting for? Don’t keep them in the street. You want the whole neighbourhood to know what’s happening? We’re entertaining half Corinium as it is.’

She was right. Shop doors and window-spaces up and down the lane were opening and people were peeping out of them, though when the side-gates opened and a scruffy slave appeared, waving Ascus and the raeda through into the court, the spectators appeared to lose interest in the scene.

The grizzled husband had come down himself to greet me at the doorway of the house, still dressed in the patched under-tunic he’d been sleeping in. He had draped a worn blanket around him like a cape, but he could not hide the dreadful burn-marks on one arm. He carried a lighted oil-lamp in his uninjured hand as with one bare foot he held the door ajar. ‘Come in then, citizen,’ he mumbled gracelessly. ‘I’ve sent a slave to get the fire alight, and my wife will find you something, if you want to eat.’ He gave me a searching look. ‘Though that may cost extra, at this time of night.’

I brought out Publius’s writing-block again. ‘It will be taken care of,’ I said, loftily. ‘I’d be grateful for some food. And my companions too. None of us has eaten anything since noon.’ Much longer in the case of the raedarius, I realized, though I’d not heard him complain.

My host took the letter in his damaged hand — though he clearly found it difficult to grasp anything with that charred and withered claw — and peered short-sightedly at it, holding the scratched message so near the lamp I feared the wax would melt. However, what he saw appeared to satisfy his doubts. He looked up and nodded. ‘This way, citizen.’

He ushered me down a passage to the right into a small room with a dining-alcove in the wall, complete with a table, a bench and two small stools, and lighted by a pitch-torch in a holder in the wall — rather like a common mansio, in fact. No fancy dining-couches on offer here! I wondered what Audelia and her cousin thought of that! He motioned me to sit down on the bench. ‘My wife will be with you-’

‘I am already here!’ She came bustling in. She was much younger than her husband, as I could now see by the lighted taper which she held, and she might have been pretty if she had not been so plump. Unlike her husband, she had found time to dress, not only in a proper day-tunic to cover up her legs, but she’d also managed to tie soft sandals on her feet and thrust a fashionable band around her tousled hair. She gave me a sly smile, obviously conscious of her ample charms. ‘I am Priscilla, at your service, citizen. Now, I have a little stew of pork and leeks prepared, which I’ve put back on the fire, and I believe there’s still some bread and pickled fruits as well…’

‘Pork-stew would be excellent,’ I said, with truth. It was, in fact, unlooked-for luxury. I had expected bread and soup at best. A meal of that quality must have been prepared with Lavinia in mind. ‘And you’ll feed my horsemen too? They-’

She was so anxious to reassure me that she cut across my words. ‘Naturally, citizen. There is bread and cheese for them, such as we usually provide, and I’ve had the stable-slave make up a bed for them. Generally these fellows like to sleep beside the horse.’ She snuffed her taper out to save the wick.

I nodded, more because this accorded with what Ephibbius had said than from any commendation of my own. The woman, though, seemed visibly relieved that I was satisfied. ‘Trullius, go and give instructions to the kitchen-girl. Get her to bring this citizen a plateful of that stew, the moment it is hot enough. Make sure it doesn’t burn. When she has done that, she can take something to the stable for the men.’

The husband nodded. ‘He’s got a letter. Publius will pay.’ He lifted his oil-lamp to light his way and shuffled out towards the rear part of the house.

‘Nonsense, you old fool!’ the woman bellowed after him. ‘Of course we cannot charge him, after what’s happened here.’ She turned to me. Her words came in a torrent. ‘It’s not our fault, you know. We did everything according to instructions we received — and a Vestal Virgin’s wishes, even a prospective one, are not to be ignored. When the girl demands that she be left alone, to make quiet preparation for her new life at the shrine — surely no one would expect us to do other than obey? I would never have gone into the room at all, except that she sent her nursemaid for a tray of this and that, and I had to help the woman take it up. Of course we thought the child was just asleep — worn out with her travel and excitements still to come. Even her nurse was unwilling to barge in on her, having been instructed otherwise, but — when we kept on knocking and getting no reply — in the end we had to force our way inside.’ She paused dramatically.

I nodded. ‘And when you did so, Lavinia wasn’t there? Only a pile of clothing in the bed, to give the impression of a human form, I understand?’

She pursed her lips. She’d obviously been hoping to make a tale of this. But she was not silent long. ‘We made a search, of course — she couldn’t have got far, she had only sent down for the tray not half an hour before. But she’d obviously climbed out through the window-space, across the lower roof and down into the court — we found a blanket twisted into a kind of rope, and being young she could have swung down easily — though we can’t find anyone who saw her doing it. And we couldn’t find her in the streets, although we looked. Even went to the forum temple in case she had gone there — and of course they sent a message to the Glevum priests at once. They will not have her to be a Vestal now, so if that is what she wanted, she has got her wish.’ She shook her head. ‘But why would she run off? She seemed so enthusiastic about her future lot.’

‘You think so?’ If that was true, it was significant.

‘She was so excited that she could hardly speak. Wanting Audelia to show her how to pray and make a proper Vestal sacrifice. Got quite proud and haughty about it, if you know what I mean. Boasting that in a year or two, she would be so important that a convicted criminal who crossed her path could be pardoned execution if she gave the word. The only thing that seemed to worry her at all was learning that she’d have to have her lovely hair cut off — beautiful red curls, she was so proud of them — but Audelia said they always shave the heads of novices. Hardly enough to make her take the risk of running off and bringing the wrath of the gods — or everybody else — upon her head.’

That set me wondering. Suppose the child hadn’t run off of her own accord at all? A pile of clothing was no proof of anything — a kidnapper could contrive that easily enough to make it look like a simple childish prank. Besides, if the girl was going to run away why wait until midday? It would have been easier to do it hours before, when the house was busy with the morning chores and there was more daylight left. Unless, I thought suddenly, something had happened to give her a sudden fright, like a recognition of a Druid threat, perhaps? Some member of the household might have some idea. ‘I would like to talk to your servants, anyway,’ I said aloud.

The woman sniffed. ‘If anything, it is the nurse you want to question about this — though she claims she was on watch outside the door all day and never left, except to come down for the tray. If you want to see her, she’s under lock and key — I’ve locked her in the slave-cell till someone comes for her. Though perhaps I should have called the town-guard and had her put in jail. I wasn’t certain what to do with her.’

I waved all this aside. ‘I shall have to speak to her, of course. In the meantime, I have questions to ask you.’

‘I might have known we’d be suspected of complicity! You’re from the family, and I’m sure that they blame us,’ she fretted. ‘But truly, citizen, there’s nothing I can add. Oh, dear Mars!’ She pulled out a stool and sat down heavily. ‘And we were so excited when the Vestal Virgins came. Going to make our fortune, that was — we told half the town — and now look what’s come of it.’

She was interrupted by the arrival of her husband, who by now had put an over-tunic on and was personally carrying my supper on a tray — a bowl of steaming stew, some garum in a pot, a hunk of bread, a metal goblet and a jug of watered wine — and the lighted lamp was on the carrying board as well. He managed this by holding one end of the tray and supporting the other against his damaged arm and he set it down by sliding it along the board with practised ease. The stew smelt wonderful. He took a spoon out of a pocket in his belt, rubbed it on his hem and handed it to me. Then he stood back, self-importantly.

His wife had clearly no wish to have him listening to our talk. ‘You’d better go and offer a little to the gods — this meal was intended for a priest and a priestess. We can’t be taking unnecessary risks.’

He looked reluctant but he took up the lamp and shuffled off to do as he was bid. She motioned me to eat, but even as I spooned warm stew into my mouth she was already launching into speech.

‘You see how the Fates have treated this household, citizen? We used to have a splendid business making pots — he had his own kiln in the courtyard and lots of wealthy customers. But then he had a nasty accident, and now he really can’t make pots at all — though he refuses to admit it, and still tries from time to time, with the consequent waste of good materials.’

‘So you’ve had to turn to taking passing guests?’

She nodded. ‘Usually genteel females travelling on their own who do not want to use the common inns and are not entitled to use the mansios. It does not happen more than once or twice a moon, so it’s a precarious living in a general way. So when we were offered this opportunity, we seized on it at once. A Vestal in the house? We thought we’d make our fortune, when the news got out.’ She shook her head. ‘Now I wish Lavinius had never heard of us.’

I ignored the garum and dipped the bread into the stew. ‘I heard that he’d arranged it. How did he come to know you?’

‘He used to be a customer when we were selling pots. He heard that we were reduced to taking guests and sent a slave to check that we were suitable. I understand it was his wife’s idea, in fact — she wanted somewhere safe for her daughter to come and meet Audelia overnight, since there are no family members actually living in this town.’

‘Mmm-hhh!’ was all I managed, though I was listening. I swallowed my mouthful. ‘Had the cousins met before?’

‘I don’t believe so, but you would not have guessed. They had such a pleasant evening — they shared a room of course — and they got on so well. I believe they would have talked and laughed all night, if the bride had not needed to get up at dawn and go on to Glevum to be wed. I hope that she’ll be happy.’ She glanced at me. ‘You didn’t see her wed? No doubt you had to leave before the wedding feast.’

‘You didn’t hear that the marriage never did take place?’ I said, unnecessarily. The truth of that was clearly written in her face. ‘It was thought that Audelia herself had disappeared. I thought the news would certainly have reached you by this time.’

She boggled at me. Speech almost failed her, for once. ‘Disappeared?’ The big eyes widened. ‘Believe me, citizen, we had no idea at all!’ A look of sudden panic spread across her face. ‘But she left here safely. There are witnesses to that. If she didn’t get to Glevum, no one can blame us.’

I was almost loath to tell her. ‘I’m afraid that isn’t true. Audelia did get to Glevum, but by that time she was dead. Savagely murdered by the look of it.’

The woman jumped up and seemed about to scream but I prevented her. I put my two hands on her shoulders and forced her to sit down. ‘This is private information. Do not share it with the slaves. Whoever murdered her is clearly still at large, so the fewer people who know of it, the safer for us all. But tell me. You must have seen her leave? Did you see anything suspicious at the time?’

She shook her head. Her plump face had turned white and she was clearly shaken to the core. ‘Nothing at all. I told you, she left here in good health. I saw her get into the coach and so did everybody in the house — except Lavinia who had said goodbye, received a blessing, and was already at her prayers. But Lavinia’s nursemaid and the other couple too. They all went down at dawn to see Audelia leave and wish her happiness — as of course you do when you are speaking to a bride.’ She was twisting her tunic in her fingers now.

‘This other couple?’ I had heard before that there were other people in the house, but I had imagined they were simply unrelated guests. ‘Were they acquainted with Audelia, then?’

There was a curt laugh behind us. ‘Oh indeed so, citizen. More than acquainted. They were her relatives — though fairly humble ones.’ It was the husband who had come in unobserved and had clearly overheard this last remark.

‘Don’t tell him any more,’ the woman said. ‘Audelia is gone. Oh dear Mars, what will become of us? I wish by all the gods that she had lodged with them, as she originally planned, and I hadn’t talked you in to having them stay here.’

I turned to Trullius.

He sighed. ‘I could wish my woman didn’t talk so much, but since you’ve heard the half of it you’d better hear the rest. No, don’t tell me to be quiet, wife! If he’s come here from the family, he had better know. It’s quite true, citizen. I think Audelia might have sought to stay with them, till Lavinius put a stop to that by arranging things with us. When he did so, she wrote privately to me, asking me to find a room for them as well.’

‘And you agreed to that? Against her uncle’s preference?’

He looked defiantly at me. ‘Why not? As a Vestal, she outranks him anyway, and a priestess’s wish should always be obeyed. Besides, she was prepared to pay me very handsomely and her uncle had not forbidden them to meet — although she hinted that she’d rather that he did not hear of it. Though in the circumstances, I suppose he’ll have to know.’

‘Dear Mars! He will blame us for everything, without a doubt.’ The woman wailed. ‘I don’t know why Lavinius should object to them, in any case. Nice, gentle people and perfectly polite.’

‘Not rich enough to suit Lavinius,’ the husband said. ‘That’s the front and back of it. But they didn’t seem to mind. Said that they wanted to come to Corinium anyway, and would take advantage of the trip to visit the slave-market and get a slave or two.’

I was very interested in these poor relations of the bride. ‘Where are they now? I may wish to talk to them.’ I absently poured myself a little watered wine.

‘I can tell you where they live. It’s only a few miles’ journey to the east of here. I had to send a letter to say we had a room.’

‘I only wish she’d gone there after all,’ his wife said, tearfully. ‘It would have made a convenient stopping-place for her. Personally, I think it was their child that prevented it. The girl is afflicted — deaf and dumb since birth.’

‘And allowed to live?’ I was surprised at that. Most afflicted Roman children were exposed and killed at birth, saving their family the embarrassment and expense of raising them.

‘The parents did not realize for a month or two, and by that time the mother had got attached to it. So they did not leave it out to die or feed it to the dogs — though they could still have done so until the child was three. Instead they made a pilgrimage to every shrine there is, including the Vestals, to offer sacrifices and petition for her health.’

‘So Audelia knew them?’

‘I believe she did, but then the mother died. She had been frail and ailing since the birth, and in the end the worry was too much for her.’

I paused in my enjoyment of the stew. ‘But I thought…’

‘That was his first wife, citizen — this is the second one. I don’t believe Audelia had met her before,’ Trullius told me, in a patient tone.

‘Though it would have been a good idea if she’d gone to the shrine herself,’ the woman said. ‘She’s delicate as well. Look how the journey here distressed her. Completely wore her out. She was forced to go to bed and rest for several hours until Audelia arrived, and even then I hardly heard her say a word. Of course she has that child of his at home to worry her.’ She broke off suddenly. ‘I’m sure that’s why Lavinius refused to let Audelia stay with them, and why he did not ask them to the wedding-feast today. It’s enough bad luck to cross a leper or a blind man on the street before your marriage day. To share a household where a deaf-mute lives would be a dreadful portent for a bride-to-be.’

The man laughed. ‘Nonsense, wife. Paulinus and his wife are not rich and powerful enough to suit Lavinius, that’s all. Just simple people living on a farm. I don’t believe the theory of the evil auguries. It did not alarm the bride-to-be to meet them here-’

She cut him off. ‘But Trullius — dear Mars! Perhaps it should have done. Audelia is dead. Did you not hear him say? I still can’t believe it.’

‘Dead!’ He was clearly shocked. ‘That news I hadn’t heard.’ He glanced sheepishly at me. ‘We did get a message from the temple in Glevum just before you came — brought by the same courier who took the news about Lavinia from here. He carried the answer that, since Lavinia was no longer in the house, the high priest would not come to Corinium tonight, and when he did come, would no longer call on us.’

So that was the explanation of the stew, I thought. ‘After all your preparations?’

He shuffled awkwardly. ‘The man did mention that Audelia had not arrived at the birthday games as planned, so I’d heard that before you came — but he said that it was generally assumed, by those few who knew that she was coming there, that she’d been kidnapped by brigands and there’d be a ransom to be paid.’

The woman started to her feet again. ‘You didn’t tell me that!’

‘I know I didn’t, wife, I thought to save you more anxiety — we had enough troubles of our own to worry us. But nobody told me that Audelia was dead.’ He turned to me. ‘Are you quite sure of that?’

I drained my cup. ‘I’m absolutely sure. We found the body in her travelling box. The work of Druids, by the look…’ I said no more. The woman had fallen in a faint upon the floor.