Rosemary Rowe - The Ghosts of Glevum

‘Worth a sestertius, citizen?’ Sosso said.

I paid up with a sigh. At this rate, I would soon be penniless again. And although I was sure I knew who murdered Praxus now, that was only half the problem solved. The question of the document remained, and therefore what I knew so far would not help Marcus in the least. Even if I could persuade a court of law that Umbris and Mellitus were responsible for Praxus’s death — and I had no proof — the ring-sealed letter condemned my patron on a greater charge. Though I had suspicions about that as well. Mellitus had ordered the guard to search the villa that night, which suggested that he knew what they would find. Had Umbris somehow stolen Marcus’s ring earlier and planted the incriminating document in his study? Had they set Bullface after me as well?

‘Going to read it?’ Sosso broke into my thoughts.

I unfolded the little piece of bark. The message did not instantly incriminate Mellitus, as I had hoped. It was brief and very difficult to read, a few words scrawled in charcoal in an unformed hand, the spelling dreadful and the Latin worse, the whole thing scorched and blackened at the edge. All the same, I could discern the general drift. New charges against Marcus. . found a document. . has taken charge of Praxus’s bodyguard and might be dangerous. . back to Corinium and report . That much I could make sense of, but the final line defeated me — though it was least affected by the flames. Try as I would, I could only read it as The pig is in the drain .

I tried to reason out what the note implied. The message was obviously from Umbris, and had reached Mellitus around midday — the serving girl was giving him lunch. From my experience at the garrison, when I was first admitted and then turned away, the second charge against my master had been laid while I was there, or immediately before, and that was in the morning. Marcus would have been permitted to write home at once, and Umbris was reporting to his master what the letter said — he must have read it as he carried it to Julia. The timings tallied. That all made sense.

Yet obviously Mellitus was not aware of the new charge, or why should Umbris write to him? Who had ‘taken charge of Praxus’s bodyguard and might be dangerous’? And above all, what did Umbris mean by ‘the pig is in the drain’?

I looked at Sosso. ‘What do you make of this?’

‘Can’t read it.’ He shrugged. ‘But if it says what Cilla says it says. .’

‘You’ve been inside the villa wall again?’

‘Lercius did. The way he went before. How else could we discover what it said? Can’t afford to pay the market scribes. Show him, Lercius.’

This time it was Lercius who put his hand inside his ragged robe and from a little leather pouch (I recognised my purse) produced an article for my inspection.

‘There wasn’t any pig that I could see, though I looked everywhere. Even the double-seat latrine. I was lucky there. There’s a cesspit for the servants at the back, so no one is bothering much with the latrines now that your patron is away. I put my hand in right up to my arm, but there was no obstruction anywhere. The only thing I found was this. It looked as if it might have been pushed down beneath the seats. It was lying on the ledge above the stream. Here!’ It was, by no imagination, like a pig — it was a small lump of something soft and pale, smelling not too dreadfully of drains. Lercius put it into my reluctant hand.

I looked at it with a kind of horrified fascination, but I didn’t put it down. Slimy, soft and soggy. Where had I touched something of the kind before? ‘Pigs,’ I said, suddenly remembering. ‘The almond-bread pigs that were served at the feast. That’s what this is. A piece of almond bread. Of course. Umbris served the guest of honour first — so he could make sure which piglet Praxus ate! Later, this was in the water pail — I put my fingers on it. Umbris must have put it there when he was drowning Praxus in the vomitorium. Loquex told me he had been carrying something on a plate.’

Lercius was staring in astonishment.

‘This is firm evidence!’ I said. ‘This is what poisoned Praxus at the feast. And Umbris served him — we have witnesses. The note connects the pig with Mellitus. Praxus must have tasted something odd and staggered out — so Umbris had to finish him by hand. We’ll give this bread to the civic authorities. If they feed these remnants to a criminal, he’ll die, and then the case is proved.’

‘Not so, citizen.’ Cornovacus stepped across the fire, and spoke urgently to me. ‘Even if what you say is true, how could you convince a court that your wretched patron didn’t hatch the plot? His food, his slave, his kitchens — and he had as much to gain as Mellitus. And, Dis take it, what about that document?’

I nodded. In my enthusiasm I had momentarily overlooked the fact that even if I had solved one half of the problem, a greater one remained.

Cornovacus gave a sour smile. ‘You are a clever thinker, but you’re wrong. Like one of Tullio’s confounded eels, you’ve fallen into the trap they set for you.’

‘They?’ I said.

‘The people who really did all this,’ he said. ‘Important people — I don’t know their names — but I can show you who they are, and where they live. Both of them were there at Marcus’s house that night. Great Mithras, man, don’t look at me like that. Can’t you see what’s right in front of you? They wanted you to find the clues that led to Mellitus. Perhaps he did murder Praxus, I don’t know, but if so they encouraged him, and if you hadn’t worked it out probably they’d have “discovered” it themselves. They planned his downfall, don’t you understand? — and your patron’s too. With Praxus gone, that clears the way for them.’

I stared at him. ‘How do you know all this?’

‘They bribed your little twitching friend to help, that’s how.’ He laughed unpleasantly. ‘Amazing what facts come tumbling out, when you shake a man hard enough.’

‘The secretary to the garrison? But what could he have done? I can’t believe. .’

Cornovacus quelled me with a glance. ‘Listen, citizen, I don’t give a whore’s dowry if your patron dies or not. You’re paying me to help, and I am telling you. If you don’t believe me, come and listen for yourself. I know where they meet. I’ll take you there and you can see. Tomorrow, at first light, if you like. We’ll lie in wait for them — I know a hiding place. I guarantee in half an hour you’ll be convinced, and have all the evidence you need.’ He shot me a look. ‘If you’re prepared to pay for it, of course.’

‘You want a whole denarius again?’

He leaned closer. ‘I want the aureus,’ he said, and his tone was menacing. ‘I know you’ve got it, citizen. I saw it earlier. But if this information frees your wretched patron, it’s worth it, isn’t it? Or shall I send to tell him that you grudged the fee? I’m sure Parva could find a way to let him know.’

I looked to Sosso for support, but the dwarf was cleaning his fingers with his knife again. ‘Greedy,’ he said, without looking up. ‘But quite likely true. If Cornovacus says that you’ll have evidence, you will.’

I sighed. I had no personal faith in Cornovacus as a guide, though I had to admire his abilities as a blackmailer and spy. I would not have put it past him to take me into town, steal my gold aureus and flee. But I did trust Sosso, and he seemed to think that it was worth my while. Besides, what did I have to lose? Without this promised evidence there was no chance my patron would be freed, and then there was no future for me here. At best I would have to leave Glevum with my wife and try to start again, selling my pavements somewhere else. Not an easy prospect, at my time of life. At worst. .