Rosemary Rowe - The Fateful Day

‘Take that, you horrible great man!’ That was Livia, furnished with the plank of broken wood. She raised it high and brought it down with force — not on the giant’s head, but on his crotch. Cacus doubled up and moaned in pain.

After that, things seemed to happen all at once. Several of the customers who had been watching this — not certain what was happening, but happy to join in — overpowered Cacus and bound him with a chain. Then, summoned by the shrieking, the town watch arrived, and shortly afterwards two soldiers hurried in, demanding to know what the disturbance was.

Alfredus Allius — who had hobbled to safety in the cubicle — reappeared and ordered the arrest of the Egidius brothers and their slave. He would personally bring a case against them in the courts, citing the crimes of theft and unlawful servicide — for both of which there were substantial fines — and wearing a patrician toga without entitlement. The amanuensis, as he afterwards explained to me, had sold himself to slavery and not bought his freedom back — obviously, since he was apparently a corpse — and therefore had forfeited the right to Roman dress. For a slave to wear a toga was a capital offence.

It wasn’t important. The erstwhile amenuensis slave was dead and the knife that had killed him was my patron’s own. It had been stolen from my workshop after Maximus was killed — for wielding that same knife in my defence. I had the concrete proof that I’d been looking for that the younger brother had been the killer of my slave. Between them, the watch and soldiers took the body off, and marched the others off to custody,

When they had gone, the girls came creeping down — including Livia. I slipped her the coins I had promised her. ‘It’s thanks to you I found them here at all. You told my son that Cacus and his master were inside.’

She shook her head. ‘I said, “You’ll find Cacus and his masters in there” — meaning both of them. Your son misunderstood. But everybody in the house knows what has happened now, and several of the “customers” will bear witness to the facts if you’ve a few more spare sesterces to encourage them!’

I nodded. ‘That could be arranged. And here’s another coin for you if you’ll take a message for me to an apartment in the town. It’s over the wine shop near the public baths — the biggest apartment, anyone will know it. Tell the slaves their mistress will be returning soon, and I’ll send a more detailed message later on.’

She tried the coin with her teeth and, satisfied, she hurried off with it and the taverna owner and his slaves began to clear up the blood. Alfredus was still talking to a member of the watch, who had stopped to take a statement and preferred the councillor. He was talking animatedly about the trouble in the town and how the soldiers subdued the crowd and were guarding every street.

I sighed. I clearly wasn’t needed here. I called to Minimus, who was winded but otherwise unhurt, and with the aid of old Vesperion I got him to the gate, put him on the mule in front of me again, and took him slowly home through the encroaching dark.

We cremated little Maximus next day, and I gave him a simple funeral, burying his ashes by the enclosure fence. It was a small affair compared to the enormous pyre which Georgicus had made next door for the Funeral Guild to use and which filled the air with acrid smoke for several hours. I did succeed in sending word to him in time and the heads were added to the fire before it died, so Marcus’s household had as good a funeral as could have been arranged.

I did not attend the trial of Egidius, though I was willing to — Alfredus, as a curial magistrate, was a more impressive witness than I could have been, and he had a financial stake in the affair. The outcome was predictable, of course. Egidius was exiled again for having planned my death and arranged the robbery, and his goods were confiscated to pay the fines and compensation that he owed. I don’t know what became of Cacus — he would have had a less official trial. The tanner’s wife tells me that they sent him to the mines instead of executing him, on the grounds that he was following his master’s orders all the time.

A little of the fine-money should have come to me in compensation for the loss of Maximus, but Julia — who had received my courier in time — offered to provide another slave instead, and leave it to Marcus to meet the bill for it when he returns (which won’t be very long: he’s sent word that he’s already on his way). It was the least that she could do to repay me for my help, she told me warmly when she and her children did arrive in town. Marcus would want to reward me much more handsomely, she thought (though I was less convinced) but in the meantime I could have the choice of any slave available.

Naturally I selected Tenuis. He knew nothing of the duties of a household slave, but he is young enough to learn and pathetically grateful that I’ve chosen him. He’s only been with me half a moon or so, but he’s already filling out now that he is getting sufficient food to eat, and he’s promising to be a sturdy little chap and helpful with the chores. Soon I’ll have to teach him how to help me dress. Minimus liked him from the start, and Gwellia — though she grumbles at his childish carelessness — is growing fond of him.

But soon I may be able to buy her another slave as well — for her own personal use. My peculiar talisman may have brought me luck. Alfredus Allius is convinced of it. I had a meeting with him and Scipio only yesterday. The court held that the purchase of the Egidius house was still a valid one. The formal contract that Egidius had sworn so publicly could not be overturned, and though the furniture and Marcus’s effects were returned to their rightful owner without recompense, the house (together with the travelling carriage) is Scipio’s.

He’s had the wise woman and the priest to cleanse the villa of its ghosts and offered me a contract to replace the floors. The fee will keep my little family for a year or more, so — despite the troubles which rocked the Empire on that fateful day — I, at least, have some small cause to celebrate.