‘Master?’ Minimus ventured, when we came out onto the street. ‘Why did the lady Fulvia ask the Fates to spin you luck?’
He looked so troubled that I told him everything, adding, ‘Though you must not mention this to anyone. The fewer people who know what I intend, the safer it will be.’
‘Not safe for you, master!’ He was visibly upset. ‘You could easily be killed. Hortius’s escort are quite capable of that. And won’t it put Tertillius and your patron into danger, too?’
‘Not if I’m successful when I talk to Hortius, which I am about to do,’ I said. ‘Though he won’t be pleased to see me, I am sure – especially as Marcus won’t be there to speak for me.’
In fact, the Senator had other visitors. When I was shown in – with doubtful glances at my dark-coloured dress – it was to find Hortius ensconced again on my patron’s favourite chair. He appeared to be holding some kind of audience – as though he owned the flat. Before him – perched uncomfortably on a pair of folding stools – were Cyrus and Decimus Valerius, the wealthy and loquacious brother councillors. Seeking favours, by the look of it – judging by the costly gifts displayed nearby, and their visible discomfiture as I was ushered in.
The room felt crowded, with Hortius’s two guards on duty by the wall and two of my patron’s pages flittering around with snacks and wine – though only Hortius was being served, it seemed. (Marcus would have been appalled at the discourtesy.) The visitors must have attendants, too – presumably crammed into the servants’ room. I was glad that, once more, I’d left Minimus outside.
As I moved forward to present myself, one of the armed guards stepped out in front of me. ‘Citizen Libertus! Your patron is not here.’
‘Thank you, but it was the Senator that I came to see.’ I looked past him to Hortius and forced a little smile, though the effort raised my bile.
I need not have troubled. He was glowering fiercely and his expression did not change. ‘Duumvir. We meet again. I’m busy, as you see.’
But Cyrus, the elder brother, had risen to his feet. ‘Merely a matter of petitions to the Governor. Nothing that cannot wait. How can we help you? Does this concern your wife? Perhaps the Senator can intercede for you. Somebody must be responsible. What a dreadful thing – we were very shocked to hear.’
I saw Hortius blanch at this and I left caution at the door. ‘It was the Senator who ordered it, in fact – as I am sure he’s realized by this time. It was her dead body he had thrown into the pit – then limed and sealed, as though she had the plague.’
‘It came to me later that it must have been.’ He could hardly pretend otherwise, in this company. Both councillors were looking at him, horrified.
‘Libertus, my dear fellow,’ Decimus, the plumper one, was speaking now. ‘Bad enough to hear that she had died – but for her to be …’ He thought better of that sentence, and finished simply, ‘What a tragedy!’
‘I will offer compensation, naturally,’ Hortius muttered, with another glower at me. ‘Though, at this stage, there is nothing I can do to change the past.’
‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘And that is what has brought me here today. You were kind enough to promise, yesterday, to help me offer for any bride I chose, should I ever find myself a widower. I said then I could never replace the wife I had, but just one day of loneliness has shown me otherwise.’ I saw suspicion moving in his eyes, and added hastily, ‘Tertillius has a sister, as I think you know?’
The toad face thawed a little. ‘A widow of patrician birth and independent means! It could not be more perfect, if you have changed your mind, so soon.’ His scowl was now replaced by a triumphant smile.
It almost shamed me but I managed to reply, ‘Worthiness, I am not looking to replace Gwellia in my heart. Nothing in the Empire could possibly do that. But I have had time to consider overnight, and there are other reasons one might take a wife.’
Both brothers looked frankly scandalized by this, but Decimus murmured, ‘Companionship, perhaps? The duumvir would not be the first to find himself bereft, and the future unsupportable alone. Several of the Emperors have wed again, in fact, no sooner than the funeral rites were safely done.’ He didn’t mention that some of the deaths had been no accident. ‘A cultured lady can be a comfort in distress.’ He was savouring this story, you could see.
‘To say nothing of a handsome dowry, and connections with a well-born family?’ The irony in Hortius’s voice was unmistakable. ‘I see no objection, once the rites have been performed.’
I nodded, unable to meet the disapproving eyes. ‘I have fulfilled the Celtic funeral rituals,’ I said, and saw Decimus nod, acknowledging that I’d mentioned it to him.
‘Then, if the woman’s willing – there is no cause to wait.’ Hortius managed to sound almost gracious now. ‘So, duumvir, what do you want of me? The lady is not without a dowry, I believe? If you have come simply to ask my blessing on the match, I give it willingly.’
I pretended to be looking at the floor. ‘The thing is, Senator, that there might be a bar. I am – as you must know by now – of Celtic birth. A noble family – my father was the chieftain of our tribe – but I was betrayed, captured and sold to slavery. I am now a Roman citizen and councillor, but all the same, her brother may object …’
‘Indeed.’ Cyrus was anxious to exhibit what he knew. ‘Tertillius is a stickler for tradition and the law. Rank and background are of high importance in his eyes.’
I seized the cue that he had given me. ‘Exactly, Worthiness.’ I forced myself to meet the granite eyes again. ‘But if you would be prepared to urge him to the match – declaring that you favour it yourself, I think he could be persuaded to agree.’ I glanced towards the listening councillors. ‘Though, with your indulgence, gentlemen, I’d wish to be discreet and not have this matter discussed outside this room.’
‘Of course not, duumvir!’ Decimus replied, pretending that I had offered an affront, but I had the satisfaction of seeing them exchange a glance – which assured me that the news would be safely round the town by dusk.
I turned back to Hortius. ‘Then, a private written letter, under seal, perhaps? I have taken the liberty of sketching something out – since you had pledged to help. Would you be good enough to read it through?’ I produced the little roll of bark-paper, which Tertillius had so carefully prepared.
Hortius snatched it from me, and read the words aloud. ‘From Hortius Lollius Valens, Senator, greetings … trust you are in health … et cetera, et cetera … I wish to have it known that I support the claim of the councillor and duumvir, Longinus Flavius Libertus, for your widowed sister’s hand. Expedition of the union would be a favour done to me.’ He scowled at me. ‘The fortunate lady has a name, I suppose?’
‘She does,’ I answered, as nonchalantly as I could. ‘Tertillius’s sister is called Fulvia. But I am not certain of her patronym – her father died, and I think the mother married twice. Tertillius will know, of course. He could insert the details if you so instruct – there is sufficient space between the lines.’
Hortius’s toad face looked suspicious still. ‘This will go directly to Tertillius?’ he enquired.
‘Of course,’ I told him blithely. ‘You may send it there yourself – with your instructions – if you’d care to add your seal.’
He looked at me as though he hated me, and I returned his gaze.
‘Come, Hortius,’ Decimus exclaimed excitedly. ‘Libertus has made a reasonable request – very reasonable, given what occurred. What could be more natural than to add your seal – and we two can be witnesses to that. It’s fortunate we happened to be here.’
‘Very fortunate,’ I murmured, though I had hoped they might. If Tertillius had called yesterday, with gifts, it was almost certain that they would be the first to do the same, as soon as they heard of Hortius’s accident. Asking him to petition the Governor against the tax, no doubt, and finding a good story – both at once.
Cyrus was gesturing to Marcus’s slaves to bring a beeswax candle so we could melt some for the seal. So Hortius, who was visibly sporting a flamboyant signet ring, could summon no excuse.
‘Very well,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ll put my seal on it. And you two can add your names, as witnesses. My own guard shall deliver it to Tertillius. You, duumvir, will not handle the document again.’ He glared at me, as though he dared me to object.
I merely bowed and gave him a sweet smile. ‘As the Senator desires. My thanks to all of you.’ I watched as quills and a pot of bark-ink were produced, the names and seal were appended to the note, and Hortius’s two guardsmen disappeared with it. ‘And that, I think, concludes my business here. With your permission, gentlemen, I will now withdraw. My patron is holding a feast tomorrow night – in celebration of his recent fatherhood, and as a civic honour for the Senator. There are arrangements that I’m asked to oversee, since he is not in town, himself. I believe that both you gentlemen are invited too?’
The brothers were preening. ‘We are bidden to the highest table. Perhaps we’ll see you there?’ Decimus seemed to think better of the question, suddenly. ‘Though I presume that you …?’ He let the sentence fail.
‘I shall attend, for the later part of it, at least – though I have at present no appetite for feasts. Until then, gentlemen!’ I bowed myself away.
I was glad to get outside to Minimus. Even the stale air on the landing – heavy with the usual smells of cooking-smoke, wet wool, damp shoes and sweat – was preferable to a room containing Hortius.
My slave was looking mournful and I saw his eyes were red. ‘You have been crying?’ I asked him as we went into the street. ‘Tears for your mistress? That I understand.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m frightened for you, master. For myself, as well. I have lost the mistress. If I should lose you too …’ He broke off in despair.
‘Minimus, I promise. You will not be left to starve. If I leave Glevum, you shall come with me, and – if anything unfortunate befalls – I have arranged with Junio that you revert to him. As soon as you are old enough, he’ll see that you are manumitted and set free.’
‘Master, I would rather be a slave and have you live …’ He faltered. He was in danger of tears again, and so was I.
‘Then I shall do my best to do so – for the moment, anyway, though we are none of us immortal,’ I told him, with a heartiness I did not feel. ‘I have things to do. First, I must call on the vintners and check the food and wine, then confirm the entertainment afterwards, and ensure that sufficient servants can be hired to help.’ Minimus was already looking happier. ‘When we have finished, we will go back to the flat – and take some pies and fruit with us, perhaps. Everybody will be hungry by that I time, I am sure – and afterwards I’ll try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a very busy day, so you can bring me some of Cilla’s poppy juice.’
And that was more or less precisely what we did, though I delayed the sleeping draught, and – when the others were asleep – I had a private hunt among the items from the roundhouse, and took possession of another one of Gwellia’s potion-pots. I kissed it, in memory of her, then slipped it into my leather drawstring pouch – where, when it was hanging from my tunic belt, it could not be seen under the curial toga, which I was wearing to the feast.
If my plans went desperately wrong, I was equipped for anything.
Reassured, I crept back to my room, stepped over the sleeping Minimus on the mat and climbed – for what might be the last time in my life – into that comfortable bed. There, I drank Cilla’s potion to the dregs, put out my feeble taper and (thanks entirely to the poppy juice) fell – at last – to sleep.