The Vestal Vanishes

SEVEN

I turned back to the prisoner. ‘You heard her, raeda-driver. We don’t have very long.’ I leaned towards him, settling myself more firmly on the sack. ‘And the facts are against you, as you must see yourself. Let’s just go over all of it again, in case there is something extra that comes into your mind.’ I was convinced that he was hiding something, but I could not see what. ‘You saw Audelia get into the coach, but when the slaves brought down the box you set off without checking that she was still a passenger?’

He looked at me helplessly. ‘I didn’t have to check. I knew that she was there. She was talking to some other people who had come out of the inn — they said goodbye to her and I heard her voice calling to tell me to drive on. And that was it. When we got to Glevum, she had disappeared.’

‘There were no unexpected hold-ups on the way?’

He shook his head. ‘None that I can think of,’ he said reluctantly.

‘Not even for a moment? Not of any kind at all?’

I saw a look of resignation cross the anguished face. ‘Well, now you come to mention it, there was one incident. It was only a few moments, and I cannot see how anyone would have the chance to seize her then, but we did have to stop at one point to let some troops march by.’

So why had he attempted to disguise the fact? The stop made sense, of course. Marching soldiers always have priority — that is why the Romans built the roads, and why they are always called the ‘military routes’ — so all civilian traffic must wait till they go by: it is only by concession that we can use the roads at all. But of course a marching cohort draws the eyes of any spectators, which might create an opportunity for a kidnapper to seize a passenger while everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Yet marching troops are subject to orders from Imperial command. A kidnapper could hardly have arranged that in advance. Or could he?

‘And you did not get down to check your passenger and let her stretch her legs?’ I knew from Marcus that this was sometimes done.

‘I sent the maidservant,’ he muttered, painfully. ‘But she came back and said the removable shutters were across the window-space, and that was a signal that her mistress did not wish to be disturbed.’

‘The shutters were in place?’ The fact was news to me. ‘This did not surprise you? It must be dark in there.’

He was so startled by the question that he tried to lift his head. ‘You are clearly not a raeda-driver, citizen. It’s just what you’d expect. Most ladies prefer to travel with the shutters up — it keeps the rain out in the wet, and in the dry it keeps the dust at bay.’

I mentally conceded that this might be true. I once heard my patron’s wife say something much the same: complaining that on a journey from Aqua Sulis, when they’d hired a coach, the jolting and darkness make her feel quite ill, but it was a price worth paying to keep out the dust.

I was aware that I was uncomfortable myself, from sitting on something damp and lumpy in the sack. I moved my weight again. ‘You did not urge Audelia to get down and take the air?’

The driver answered readily enough, although the effort still made him catch his breath with pain. ‘This was a priestess, citizen. I would not presume to urge her to do anything, and obviously she would not want to let herself be seen. You don’t meet many Vestal Virgins on the road. Common people would have crowded round to gawp when we were forced to stop, even if she’d simply had the shutters down.’

‘Supposing that she was really in the raeda at the time.’

‘But citizen, where else could she possibly have been? If anyone had snatched her, I would certainly have seen. I didn’t leave…’ He tailed into silence.

‘You didn’t leave the raeda? That is what you were about to say, I think. And then you suddenly thought better of the claim. You did leave the carriage for a moment, then?’

His voice, which had not been strong at any time, was faint and laboured now. ‘I suppose I shall have to tell you, citizen. At the time there seemed no harm in it. It was only for a moment, and I left the maid in charge — just while I crossed the road to buy a basket for my wife.’ His eyes beseeched me. ‘Don’t tell Lavinius this, or he will have me whipped to death. I am newly married, and we expect a child, and…’

‘The basket?’ I persisted.

‘The hold-up happened at a crossing point, where there are several little rundown cottages. At one of them there lives an ancient crone who from time to time picks osiers from the stream and weaves them into baskets which she sells at the front door. Lavinius had paid me half the money in advance, and…’ He trailed off again.

‘So you went and bought one, leaving your precious passenger unguarded and alone?’

His tone of voice was almost piteous. ‘It cost no extra time. We had been obliged to stop in any case and it only took an instant — I didn’t even stop to haggle with the crone, I just paid what she was asking. And there seemed to be no harm — when I got back Puella was still sitting in her place, terrified of moving or making any sound lest her mistress should awaken and find more fault with her. I even asked her whether everything was well — and she said it was exactly as it was when I had left.’

Which might be a very clever choice of words, I thought. I was more and more interested in this serving-girl. ‘And when you got to Glevum and found Audelia gone, this girl went missing too? At the same time you think?’

He gave a painful shrug. ‘I didn’t see her vanish, either. She was on the raeda at the front with me and I told her to stay there and watch my basket while I let the horses drink and went and tied them up. I only left her for a moment, while I was doing that. When I came back she was no longer on the cart. I supposed that she had gone to open up the door, but when I got round there I found the bride had gone.’

‘And Puella?’

He looked uncomfortable. ‘She was nowhere to be found — and neither was my basket. I could not believe my eyes. I looked in all directions but there was no sign of them. I did not know what to do, so I found a passing messenger and sent the news to Publius at once.’

‘You did not search for them?’ I was incredulous.

‘Where could I begin? I asked around, of course, but none of the other drivers had noticed anything — they were more interested in the wine-stall that was opening up outside the gates. Of course a slave-girl with a basket is not remarkable, especially on a feast-day like today — but a Vestal Virgin would have raised an eye or two. The two of them had simply disappeared — and Audelia’s jewel box with them.’

‘And what about the box that was inside the coach?’

‘Still in the raeda, as far as I’m aware. Not even a skilful kidnapper could have taken that — it was far too heavy for anyone to move without attracting huge attention to themselves. I tried to tell Publius about it being there, but he would not listen — just had me gagged and bound and dragged away — though I think he left a servant to keep an eye on things-’

He broke off as a squeaky voice interrupted us. ‘Citizen?’ It was Modesta once again. I got uncomfortably to my feet and went towards her, feeling rather stiff and aware of a damp patch on my toga, where I had been sitting on the sack.

‘Have you brought the chief slave to free this man?’ I enquired.

She was staring at me goggle-eyed. ‘He’s on his way here now. And the master and Publius have just arrived so they are going to come and speak to you themselves. Here they are in fact.’

I looked where she was pointing and saw a small group of people now approaching us, coming from the direction of the house. There were two ‘purple-stripers’ — wealthy Roman citizens in patrician dress. Each of them was accompanied by a page while, dancing along a step or two behind, attempting the near-impossible feat of keeping up with them while simultaneously bowing at every other step, was the beaky steward that I’d noticed in the atrium earlier.

The chief slave had lost his air of cool authority and now seemed to be explaining something to his owner earnestly, with frantic gesticulations of his hands. He turned to Modesta. ‘Your mistress requires you. You’re wanted at the house.’

She gave me an apologetic glance, as if reluctant to leave me unattended, but she scuttled off and I turned to meet the newcomers.

I recognized the stouter citizen as Publius, from having seen him at the feast, but I realized that I had also seen Lavinius before. He was not a resident of Glevum, of course — and therefore not a member of the local curia — but I had noticed him from time to time at the basilica, consorting with various important councillors. He was not an easy man to overlook: a strikingly tall, thin individual, whose patrician hawk-nose was made more prominent by sharp, clean-shaven cheeks. With his balding head and fringe of whitish hair, he might have been good-looking in a Roman kind of way, except that age had given his shoulders a slight stoop and his face an expression of ill-disguised contempt for lesser men.

He was turning that expression in my direction now. ‘You are this pavement-maker I have been hearing of?’ His voice was low and colourless, but strangely echoing, like someone speaking in a sepulchre.

I had learned from long experience how to respond to wealthy men like this. I dropped immediately down onto one knee and bowed my head as though I were truly as low in status as his words implied. ‘The citizen Longinus Flavius Libertus, at your service, mightiness,’ I murmured. It was a pretence at grovelling, but in fact it made a point. I was a Roman citizen and therefore entitled to respect — as my formal use of the full three Roman names was deliberately designed to emphasize.

Lavinius, however, was not impressed by this. He waved a bony hand in vague dismissal of my words. ‘Well whatever your name is, pavement-maker, do get up from there.’ As I clambered stiffly to my feet, he ran a pair of faded pale-blue eyes over me, from my now-grimy toga to my greying hair. ‘Your patron, Marcus Septimus, commended you to me and seems to think that you might be of help. I suppose he knows what he is speaking of, although to look at you, I must say I’m surprised. If we are dealing with armed kidnappers and bandits, as seems probable, I can’t see what use a man your age will be. I had expected someone with a bit more strength to him.’ He made a little tutting sound against his perfect teeth. ‘Still, it is not for me to question what His Excellence suggests. I have agreed to allow you to assist. I think you understand the problem — my niece has disappeared. Where exactly are you hoping to begin?’

It was hardly an encouraging start to dealing with the man, but I dusted down my toga and said doggedly, ‘By having this raeda-driver’s bonds released a bit, so I can question him. I sent to make the request to your steward earlier.’

The long brow darkened. ‘So I understand. Though I can’t imagine what you hope to gain.’ He looked at the raedarius, lying helpless on the floor. ‘This wretch is culpable of carelessness at least, and possibly much worse. More sensible to have him tortured till he tells us everything.’

I said (as I have said to Marcus many times), ‘Flog him and you may force an admission out of him — some men will agree to anything you choose, simply provided that the torturer will stop. However, I am more concerned with getting at the truth — that is the only way to find your niece alive.’ Even supposing that she’s not already dead, I added inwardly, though I knew better than to voice that thought aloud. Lavinius was already looking unconvinced.

It was Publius who unexpectedly came to my support. ‘He may be right, you know, Lavinius my friend. I’ve been witness to such things in Rome. Evidence extorted is not always true.’

I could see Lavinius wavering, and I pressed the point. ‘What I need from this raedarius, you see, are little details of the trip — perhaps things that did not seem important at the time, but which in retrospect may be significant. He tells me, for instance, that they had to stop to let a legion of marching troops go past. That might be the place where the kidnapping took place, and not in Glevum as we thought at first-’

‘So,’ Lavinius interrupted curtly. ‘Why ease his limbs for that? It seems to me that a modicum of pain has already spurred his memory.’

‘If we loosen his bonds there may be more that he recalls — a man can’t think clearly about details like that when his mind is focussed on his suffering.’

‘Have them cut the bonds, Lavinius’ Publius urged. I’d obviously swayed him by my argument, ‘I’m willing to try anything to find Audelia. And what is there to lose? This pavement-maker has already learned something that we did not know before. Nothing that your steward’s flogging managed to obtain has, up to now, been of any use at all.’

I turned to my unexpected ally with a smile. ‘Respected citizen, if you are really willing to try anything, the really useful thing would be to have this driver take me to the place where he was compelled to stop because the troops went past. If he can identify the spot, it is possible I can discover something there. Though there is still the question of the maidservant-’

Lavinius’s snort of outrage interrupted me again. ‘You can’t mean that you expect me not just to loose the bonds — though, Jove knows that is extraordinary enough — but actually to let this fellow go? And more than that, to give his raeda back and actively encourage him to drive away from town in it? Citizen, you have a very strange idea of how Roman justice works.’

Actually I had a pretty clear idea, and I could see that I was likely to end up in court myself — charged with conspiring to help a prisoner escape — if I persisted in this argument. I was about to say that I’d abandoned the idea, when Publius again spoke up in my defence.

‘Perhaps we should try it his way, Lavinius, my friend. There seems to be very little else that we can do, and this is at least something positive. The place where the raeda stopped might well be relevant, but it will not be easy to identify the spot, unless the driver is there to point it out. And, as the citizen suggests, the easiest way of him achieving that is for the raedarius himself to take him there. I’ll bear responsibility, if trouble comes of it.’

I was warming to this fellow, despite his podgy pompous looks. Perhaps it was his open nature which had won Audelia. I would have liked to ask him how he came to know his bride, but Lavinius was already saying angrily, ‘I can’t agree to that. It was the pavement-maker citizen who suggested this, and he alone must be responsible. I think the whole idea is ludicrous, but you are the bridegroom, and my guest besides, so of course the choice is yours. If you wish me to indulge this citizen in his unlikely plans, then I must comply. But only if the pavement-maker will pledge a hundred aureii on the driver’s safe return.’ He cast a triumphant, cunning look at me. ‘And I give him fair warning that if he lets the man escape then I will drag him through the courts for full payment of the debt — and the value of whatever jewels were lost as well.’

I gasped. A hundred aureii was a huge amount of gold — more than I had ever set eyes on in my life, and certainly a good deal more than my whole estate was worth. The mere suggestion took my breath away. Of course I realized that Lavinius was perfectly aware of how I would react, and this was simply a way of making sure that I declined the trip. But before I had recovered my wits enough to utter the legal formula required to refuse a bargain and so make it void, my defender Publius had intervened and was clapping me on the shoulder with a friendly smile.

‘Well then, pavement-maker…’ Before I realized what was happening he had seized my unsuspecting hand and thrust it into Lavinius’s bony grasp. ‘There! You have shaken hands and I have witnessed it, so the contract between you now has legal force. Come, steward, cut the driver’s bonds and let him go.’ He turned to Lavinius with his chubby smile. ‘If His Excellence Marcus Septimus has such confidence in our mosaicist, then I am inclined to act on his advice — and if he is right there is no time to lose. The sooner he finds out where the stop took place, the faster my dear bride is likely to be found.’