Rosemary Rowe - The Ghosts of Glevum

The wraith! I did remember, though it now seemed years ago. ‘What did they do to him?’

‘Stabbed him. Stuffed his body in a ditch,’ Sosso said. I realised that the ugly little man was close to tears.

‘Watching your workshop,’ Lercius put in, ‘but they got rid of him. All bleeding round the neck, he was. .’ He stopped as he saw Sosso’s face.

‘Betrayed,’ said the dwarf bitterly. He cleared his throat. ‘By Cornovacus. Still, he paid.’ Sosso had come to help me on the street, I saw, not for my sake, but for the skinny man who — even in that unhappy world — had been a friend. The wraith had died on my account, watching my workshop. It occurred to me that I didn’t even know his name.

‘If you get out me of this, I’ll buy him a funeral,’ I said. To be shovelled in a nameless pit is every man’s worst fear.

Sosso managed a blackened grin. ‘Cornovacus paid,’ he said, more cheerfully, producing a handful of coins. They included a gold aureus. I saw.

I ran my hand across my makeshift purse. It was empty, naturally. Cornovacus had managed to rob me before he died.

To my eternal astonishment, Sosso took the aureus and pressed it in my hand. ‘No use to us,’ he said. ‘Too big. You’ll need it. We got a bargain. Get your patron free.’

‘Not much hope of that,’ I said, ‘not without a wealthy man to speak for us. Pity I don’t know anyone who would. . or perhaps I do! Junio — get me a litter, quick. A curtained one for preference, before the guards come back.’

Junio stared. ‘You’re going to visit someone, master? In that state? What happened to your clothes?’ He glanced at Sosso, who was still wearing my tunic, belt and shoes — though they were looking much the worse for wear by now. I was so used to it that I’d forgotten what a picture I must make.

‘It’s a long story,’ I said. ‘Just get that litter, quick. I’m going to see the high priest of Jupiter.’

I was sitting in Marcus’s dining room again, but this time the banquet was for me. There were no other guests, of course, except Gwellia and me, and poor old Councillor Gaius and his new young wife, but it was an honour all the same.

‘Inspired,’ Marcus was saying, gesturing to his slave to fill my cup. (The boy gave me a beaming smile: I had saved him from a painful questioning.) ‘Simply inspired. It is doubtful if anyone other than the priest could have persuaded the court of magistrates to drop the charge. Saying it had been revealed in a dream — and that all the augurers agreed! Even Commodus couldn’t argue with a fact like that, and once that bodyguard cracked under questioning. .! Julia, my dear, I drink to you — inspired! Of course, Libertus, you were helpful too — stepping in and showing how it could all be rationally proved — but it was the high priest’s intervention that really saved the day.’

‘Mellitus got away with it, of course,’ Gaius said. He was already getting flushed with wine. ‘And that black slave of his.’

‘Went into voluntary exile, certainly. But that might have been his sentence anyway. Though of course the murder charge against me was not the greatest threat.’

‘Indeed not,’ the ex-councillor agreed. ‘Extraordinary that there should have been two people planning to murder Praxus — and neither knew about the other one.’

‘Or wanted to know,’ Marcus said, with some asperity. ‘Both of them were quite content to let me take the blame — Mellitus for the murder, and Balbus for that letter. I suppose that each of them believed that I was guilty of the other crime. Well, they are paying for it now. Mellitus is on his island, miles from anywhere. So much for his attempt to gain more power for himself. Of course he intended Praxus’s death to look like an accident, but he was quite content to implicate me when he had the chance.’

Julia caught my eye. We had already discussed the possibility that Umbris would one day have used his poison upon Marcus too, but she said nothing. If my patron had not thought of it, there was nothing to be gained by mentioning it now.

‘And Balbus?’ Gaius’s wife put the remains of a lark leg on her plate, and turned her attention to the watered wine. ‘What’s become of him? I understand he never did confess.’

‘Silence won’t help him when he gets to Rome. I hear his trial is to be heard next moon, but his brother has already fallen on his sword — so that will tell against him straight away,’ Marcus said. ‘I wonder what his punishment will be? Something unpleasant, I’ve no doubt. They say Commodus had a bald man pecked to death by birds for saying something displeasing.’ He sounded remarkably dispassionate, considering that he had narrowly escaped a sentence at Commodus’s hands himself. ‘Clever of Libertus to spot that the gens name was the same, although of course there are a lot of men about with the cognomen Nonnius.’

Gwellia was looking ill at ease. She can never forget that she was once a slave, although her spell as a guest in Corinium had helped. She said nervously, ‘I am glad that it has turned out to your satisfaction, Excellence. You have been most generous in restoring our affairs.’

Marcus beamed at her benevolently. ‘Ensuring that your roundhouse was rebuilt? That seems the least I can do.’

Privately, I didn’t disagree. Marcus, as usual, had found a way to give me the reward that made the least demand upon his purse, although with both his co-administrators gone he was now even more influential than before. He would soon be richer, too, if Balbus was found guilty at his trial — since Marcus would doubtless reap the usual reward for formally denouncing a conspirator.

However, I had no cause for complaint. He’d had his land slaves reconstruct the house for us and had provided some splendid furniture and pots, even a dozen chickens and a pig: it had all come from Mellitus’s estate, which had already been seized. Marcus had also made it clear to the owner of my workshop in the town that some repairs were called for and — like any sensible man faced with suggestions from above — my landlord had instantly agreed. And I had a brand new toga and new shoes!

Marcus clapped his hands. ‘Bring on the entertainment,’ he decreed, and there was Lercius, in green underpants, contorting himself into unlikely shapes, walking on his hands, and generally performing lithe athletic feats. Gaius and Julia clapped him to the skies, although I was still conscious of the manic smile, and the way that Lercius looked hungrily towards the dog that was lying at the old councillor’s feet.

Then it was Sosso, splendid in green silk, loping and cavorting round the room. The ladies shrieked, the pages sneered and Gaius and Marcus laughed uproariously. Gaius said, ‘Bravo, Marcus. Where did you find them?’

Marcus smiled. ‘They were making a nuisance in the town. I’ve given them a pardon, both of them. I believe they mean to work the fairs and banquet halls. They’ve got a girl with them, as well, who holds the purse. Over there, beside the door.’

‘They should do well,’ Gaius said enthusiastically. ‘I’ll have them the next time I host a feast.’ He held out his goblet for more wine.

It had been Sosso’s own idea, of course, that I should recommend him in this way, since there was no monetary reward to share. It seemed a sad thing to me, seeing him make an entertainment of himself, but with his shrewd brain no doubt he was right. At least he would make a living now, in heated dining rooms — no more scrabbling for soup or sleeping on the ground among the graves. I wondered how the other Ghosts of Glevum would survive now he had gone. With a little help from Grossus, possibly.