Rosemary Rowe - A Roman Ransom

‘That is exactly what worries me,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t take a rune-reader to see that’s what he’d do. And that he’ll make the punishment as harsh as possible. So, is it likely that these people will simply let their victims go? Julia knows who they are.’

‘You think so, master?’ He was still attempting to spoon gruel into me.

I was getting tired of eating it by now and I dodged his ministrations long enough to say, ‘She must do, don’t you see? It’s not as if they were a band of unknown brigands who had burst into the villa with their faces covered and their daggers drawn. There was no disturbance of any kind at all. There were lots of slaves about and the door-keepers say there were no strangers in the house, and all visitors have been accounted for. But someone must have seen these people come or go. And that suggests. .?’

‘That the kidnappers were people who often came and went!’ He was delighted with his reasoning. I had a mouthful of cold gruel by now, but I nodded my approval. I have long encouraged Junio to work things out like this — just as I have taught him how to work with stone. ‘So you think it’s somebody the household knows?’ he went on. ‘Or several somebodies — whose faces are familiar to the gate-keepers? I see. That does explain how they got in, at least — though how they managed to smuggle Julia and the child out is another matter. There was no sound or sign of any struggle in the court. They must have been abducted by a trick.’

‘I think that’s possible. It would obviously be much easier to get Julia past the gate if she was somehow persuaded to co-operate.’

Junio was slowly following my train of thought. ‘I still can’t understand it. The gates are always guarded. You don’t think she might be hidden in the house, or grounds?’

‘Not if Marcus searched it fully, which I’m sure he did. Or unless she and the child are already dead, of course. Bodies might be hidden easily enough.’ I saw the look of horror on his face, and wished I hadn’t voiced my thought. I added, for myself as much as Junio, ‘But we can take some comfort from the note. That wasn’t from the villa, and it had pieces of Julia’s hair and gown on it. It seems more likely she’s being held elsewhere.’

He nodded doubtfully. ‘Let’s hope that you are right — that she was lured out by an urgent message, or something of the kind. In fact, if Julia was somehow persuaded to go out willingly, she might even have evaded the door-keeper of her own accord. Though, obviously, she is a prisoner now.’

‘Exactly.’ I remembered this time not to nod myself. The rocks inside my head were clattering again, probably in protest against all this thought. ‘But you do see that once Lallius is free, she has no further value to the kidnappers? Quite the opposite. She is a threat, since she can presumably tell Marcus who they are. So it might actually be dangerous to let Lallius go.’

‘But what else can Marcus do?’ Junio was so desolate he let his spoon relax. ‘Julia and the child are in danger anyway. And if he had refused to comply with these demands, what do you suppose would happen to them then? These people have already torn pieces from her dress and hair. They obviously aren’t treating her with very much respect. And as for that poor child. .’

I opened my mouth to say that as long as Lallius remained in custody, at least we had something we could bargain with, but Junio, recovering, was too quick for me and before the words got out the gruel got in. I was still spluttering and swallowing when Kurso darted into the room.

He always was a nervous, edgy child but now, standing there with his cheeks flushed and his fingers tugging at his tunic hem, he was positively quivering with suppressed anxiety. ‘M-m-master?’ he stammered.

‘What is it, Kurso?’ I spoke as gently as I could, but he was evading my eyes as usual.

‘Master, there is a c-c-carriage at the gate. Your p-p-patron’s here. I am sent to see if you are s-s-still asleep.’

‘Which you are obviously not!’ broke in a familiar voice. All eyes turned to the doorway and there was the man himself. He was in full regalia, dressed for his attendance at the court: his snowy linen toga was banded with wide stripes of purple and a wreath of laurel, signifying justice, was set upon his curls, giving him a solemn dignity. His handsome cloak was fastened by a gem-encrusted brooch; he had a heavy gold torc round his neck — a tribute present from some Celtic chief — and he had his favourite baton in his hand. He looked the personification of a magistrate, a walking symbol of Roman legal power. He was attended by his favourite page, a slim, good-looking youth with sleek black hair and darting eyes, in the ostentatious uniform of all Marcus’s messengers — a short-cut crimson tunic edged with gold, and a striking cape to match. And lurking behind them was the medicus.

If I was Lallius, I thought, I would be awed.

However, there was a smile on my patron’s face, and the haunted look of yesterday had gone. He bounded over to my bed at once, ignoring my servants and their rather less-than-graceful bows.

‘Good morning, my old friend — almost good afternoon, in fact. I am sorry to disturb your meal but glad to find that you’re awake and in good health.’ He extended a hand for me to kiss, and I raised myself and touched my lips to the heavy seal ring on the finger.

‘Good morning, Excellence. I see from your manner that the news is good. I hear you found a way to meet the kidnappers’ demands.’

He laughed ‘Am I so transparent? Well, it’s true. And I’ve received a promise of my family’s release.’ He spoke with confidence, but he was anxious all the same: I could tell from the way he moved around the room, fiddling with the weaving loom hanging on the wall and tapping his baton on his hand — a sure sign that he was inwardly disturbed.

I said carefully, ‘Well, I am very pleased to hear it. I was afraid that you would not. So Julia and the child are safe. I can understand why you’re relieved.’

The page, who was standing close to me, put on a pious face and flashed me a warning glance. ‘Citizen, this matter is surely a confidential one. Your slaves. .?’

It was impudent. I stared at him. My patron always chose his personal messengers for their striking looks, and this boy was no exception. I had encountered him before. He was called Pulcrus, ‘the good-looking one’, and he deserved the name. The trouble was, he was aware of it, which made him — as now — depressingly self-confident and self-satisfied.

‘We may speak quite freely in front of both my slaves,’ I said. With Marcus there I did not dare deliver a more overt rebuke. ‘They have my confidence, and His Excellence himself was here last night, talking quite openly about the affair.’

The page turned pinker than his tunic, but it was impossible to deflate his self-conceit for long. ‘One cannot be too cautious, citizen,’ he said.

I looked at Marcus, but he was ignoring us and fingering the weaving on the loom ‘I presume, Excellence, that you’ve had instructions of some kind,’ I said.

His forced, cheerful air was back again. ‘I have only to go back to the villa, and when it gets dark, leave the outer gate ajar with no one guarding it. “Then what you have lost will be returned to you.” That’s what the message said.’

‘What sort of message?’

‘Another scribbled note on a strip of bark. Much like the first. I found it waiting for me in the council room, a moment after the announcement had been made. I had my page make the proclamation in the forum, publicly, from the steps of the basilica so that all the crowd could hear. Did Junio tell you what we had decided we were going to say?’