Rosemary Rowe - The Fateful Day

I nodded, satisfied. The future of my shop was in no danger now — these tales of her expertise would spread across the town and do more to restore the confidence of potential customers than any cleansing rituals by the priest. I turned my attention to dealing with the mule.

Arlina did not seem to mind the strange contraption on her back. Indeed she moved quite willingly, without the need for me to use my switch at all. ‘Almost as if she senses what she is carrying,’ Minimus said, wistfully — though privately I suspected that this unusual obedience had more to do with her being accustomed to bearing panniers: her previous owner used to fit her with a pair to carry crops into the town for him to sell.

‘I hope the soldier on watch will let us through the gate,’ I said, as our little party plodded through the muddy streets towards the northern entrance to the town. ‘And we’re not delayed by a lot of questioning. The shadows are already lengthening. I want to be sure that we are home by dusk, and I don’t want to take the long way round the outside of the walls.’

Alfredus Allius, who was picking up his feet and carefully lifting his mourning toga clear of mire, looked up anxiously. ‘But I hope we’re not caught up in the proclamation crowds. There may be a disturbance when the news about the Emperor is read, and the army won’t be gentle if they have to curb the mob.’

But we need not have worried on either count, it seemed. It was clear that rumours of all kinds had been spreading faster than the plague through the suburb where the workshop was, and people were pouring out of every shop and alleyway and surging through the gate in the hope of getting to the forum to hear what this promised proclamation was about. There was no question of the soldier stopping them.

If we had not had Alfredus with us, in fact, we might have been caught up by the throng and simply swept along like sticks in the Sabrina when the tide-race runs. The councillor was not wearing his curial stripe, of course, but even his dark toga pulla was a distinctive one, marking him out as an important man, and people did their utmost not to jostle us. So with myself and Alfredus flanking Arlina at the front and our two servants doing the same thing at the back, we managed to transport Maximus with a little dignity.

Once beyond the forum, though, the problem was much eased. The crowd was thinner here in any case — there are not so many houses on this side of town — and now that we were moving against the human tide, people saw us coming and could step aside. A route through the back streets speeded us still more and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves beside the garrison, close to the mansio and the south gate of the town — where I’d last parted company with Maximus, alive.

‘I’ll see you safely through the gate, and then I’ll take my leave. Farewell, citizen. May your little servant rest in peace,’ Alfredus murmured as we approached the gate.

I was about to thank the kindly councillor once more for his generosity, but a voice from the soldier at the gate interrupted my farewells. ‘Citizen Libertus! So we meet again.’

I glanced towards the speaker, half expecting to see the bored sentry who had admitted us at noon, and who had been so amused by my descent from Arlina. But obviously the watch had changed and he had been long since relieved. The man on duty now was of a different build and as he stepped out of the shadows of the arch I realised who it was: none other than Villosus, of the hairy legs.

That was a relief. Villosus knew me and there would be no need for awkward questioning. In fact he’d been ordered to assist me if he could. I smiled at Alfredus. ‘Thank you for being willing to speak up for me, but I know that soldier. There’ll be no problem now.’

But I’d spoken prematurely. As I watched, another figure moved into the arch, and there, resplendent in his distinctive sideways crest, was the centurion I’d nicknamed Cerberus. He had a squad of half a dozen other soldiers with him too. They could be seen drawn up beyond the gate as if they’d just returned from some expedition under his command. He was uglier than ever. And he had clearly spotted me. He was talking to Villosus now and gesturing towards me with his baton as he spoke.

Alfredus Allius had been about to leave, but seeing what was happening he came back to me. ‘There seems to be some difficulty, citizen.’

‘There may be,’ I murmured urgently. ‘I’ve met that centurion before, as well, and he doesn’t care for me. I think he might make trouble if he sees a chance. Perhaps, after all, you could come and speak to him. It may need your authority to make him let me through.’

At the prospect of a confrontation with an armed centurion, Alfredus looked unhappy — as anybody might — but he nodded pleasantly enough. ‘If it involves the safe passage of your slave, of course I will. I wouldn’t flout the wise woman’s advice.’ He touched his amulets.

So he was still hoping to avert bad luck by offering his help? I could only hope it worked. Things weren’t looking very promising. Cerberus had stopped talking to Villosus by this time and stood to meet us, hands upon his hips.

Then, as we approached the gateway with the mule, he deliberately moved into the arch to block the way, his features wreathed in an unpleasant smile. ‘Well, if it isn’t that pesky so-called citizen. You turn up everywhere. What are you up to this time? Content to be in tradesman mode again, I see.’

I did not draw attention to where the toga was. If he saw how I had used it, I could expect a swingeing fine. I gritted my teeth into the semblance of a smile, and said, with what politeness I could summon up, ‘Greetings, officer. Could you let us through? I have completed my business for the day in town and — as you see — I’m returning to my roundhouse with my slave.’

Cerberus gave Minimus a quick, incurious glance. ‘Ah, the little fellow who didn’t get into the garrison with you!’

Minimus seemed about to answer, but I shook my head at him. I didn’t want to correct the man’s mistake about the slave. I didn’t want him asking where the other one had gone and taking too much interest in the cargo on the cart. I tried to look as meek as possible and made no response at all.

Cerberus had clearly not expected that. Perhaps he’d hoped to goad me into some unwise retort. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better let you pass — again! You’re clearly on good terms with the current commandant. But don’t expect such privilege to last. Things are going to be quite different around here very soon.’

Despite his words, he did not move a thumb’s breadth from our path, and the threat — it clearly was one — was still hanging in the air. I was just debating what I was to do — we clearly could not stand there face-to-face for evermore — when Villosus left his post and came scurrying across.

‘Greetings, citizen. I hope you succeeded with your business in the town.’

I had to think for a moment what he meant. ‘Ah, the warehouse steward! That’s him over there. And this citizen’s his master. Thank you for your enquiry. I did get the information that I’d been looking for. Though it was not entirely conclusive, I’m afraid. All the same, please convey my thanks to your commander when you can.’ This last was aimed at the centurion of course, who was openly listening to the interchange. I flashed Villosus a friendly, conspiratorial smile. ‘And now I want to hurry home before the trouble starts.’

He looked from me to Cerberus as if considering if he ought to speak or not, but all at once he smiled and took a chance on it. ‘Well, be very careful, citizen, that’s all I can say. There has been a lot of trouble on this road today — rebels on the rampage by the look of it. They must have learned somehow that there’d been tragic news from Rome-’