Rosemary Rowe - The Ghosts of Glevum

I was, of course. I nodded.

‘Praxus seemed to think that, since he had the army under his command, he was the one with ultimate authority. Obviously Marcus was not happy about that. He was the senior man, if anything — he was named as the governor’s personal representative in Glevum long ago. And not only that, Marcus was concerned about the rule of law. Praxus has come here from Gaul, and his idea of exercising power there was always to use his forces first and ask questions afterwards.’

I looked at her with admiration. How many pampered Roman wives could give so cogent an account of their husbands’ political concerns? Marcus was a lucky man indeed. I said, ‘And they quarrelled about that? I heard that there had been an argument.’

Julia coloured. Even in the shadowy light I could see that the cheeks beneath the hood were flushed with red — and not merely from the brazier at her side. ‘Not exactly that,’ she muttered awkwardly.

‘What then?’ My mind was on disturbances in Gaul. There had been several recent instances of civilian unrest in that province, which the army had repeatedly put down. Perhaps Praxus’s methods had been needed there. But in Britannia it had been the other way. Here it was a group of legionaries who’d rebelled, wanting to overthrow the Emperor and set up Governor Pertinax in his place, until Pertinax himself loyally subdued them, and denounced the ringleaders to Rome. The whole event had almost got him killed — one reason why he’d begged to be replaced. It had also won him mortal enemies among those jostling for Imperial regard and, since Marcus had supported Pertinax throughout, presumably my patron might be a target too. This was a seriously worrying thought.

Julia’s answer to my question, therefore, astonished me. ‘I was the cause of the quarrel, I’m afraid.’

‘You?’

‘Praxus had just come from Gaul. Marcus presented me to him — he was after all a guest in our house — but Praxus, well. .! His behaviour was positively uncivilised. He started with lewd looks and ribald jokes. Then, when he heard that I’d just had a child, he made some extremely coarse remarks about what Marcus must have done to bring that about, and suggested that he’d like to do the same — with graphic variations on the theme. He seemed to expect Marcus to be flattered and amused. All this in my presence, too, as if I had no ears.’

‘And Marcus took exception to all this?’

‘Well, not at first, at least not publicly. He kept telling me that Praxus was a military man, and used to soldiers’ ways, how he couldn’t marry till he surrendered his command and very likely had to leave a would-be wife in Gaul, and that anyway we should forgive him because he was a guest. Oh, Marcus made every excuse for him at first. And then Praxus asked for a female slave to bring a phial of oil to his room, and used her when she came, without so much as asking our permission first. That did it. Marcus really lost his temper then. That was more than simply uncouth words, he said, it was a kind of theft.’

I nodded, closing my eyes in horror at the tale. My wife Gwellia had been a slave — captured into servitude with me when we were young — and though she never talked about those years, every time I caught a glimpse of what her life must have been it struck chill to my heart. I had been luckier: although I was mistreated for a while, I was sold at last to a just and wealthy man who had not only had me taught a trade, but bequeathed me my freedom when he died.

Julia, though, was typically Roman in her attitude. She nodded, misinterpreting my pain. ‘Unforgivable, was it not? And Praxus seemed to feel that he’d done nothing wrong — that any slave was simply his to take, as if he was the Emperor himself. I think that is really what sparked the quarrel off. One thing led to another then, and harsh words were said, until Marcus threatened to take him to the courts. Then Praxus did calm down a little. He even apologised, after a fashion, saying that if a guest of his had asked for a female slave he would have known how to interpret it; and that he was sorry if he’d offended me, but he thought that as I’d been married twice before I was no shrinking virgin to be horrified by a man’s carnal needs.’

It was true. Julia had been once widowed, once divorced, although that had not prevented her from marrying again: indeed it had simply increased her dowry. The Romans have a laxer attitude to these things than we Celts. As an apology, however, it left much to be desired. I found myself grinning slightly, for the first time that night, though there was little enough to smile at, even now.

Julia gave a tiny laugh. ‘I know, old friend. It is bizarre. Then, in his anxiety to heal the breach, Praxus asked my husband — in all seriousness, it seems — whether he would be prepared to divorce me again, now that he had his son and heir, so that Praxus could marry me himself.’

‘But I thought. .’

‘In a few months’ time, of course, when this interregnum is over. Praxus would be old enough by then, and if he chose to do so he could draw his pension and retire. He was a wealthy man, he said, and he invited Marcus to name the “fee”. He even offered to give him a substantial sum to ensure that no one else could negotiate for me between now and then! And when Marcus protested, Praxus looked surprised again, and said that people do this all the time in Rome. He didn’t ask me what I thought.’

‘And what did you think?’ I asked, although I was pretty sure I knew the answer anyway.

‘That hairy giant?’ Julia looked appalled. ‘I’d run a knife between his ribs — or mine — before I’d marry him. He cleans his fingernails with his teeth, and spits.’

‘He did,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t any more. And, lady — Julia — take care what you say. It was not a knife between the ribs, but someone did murder him. The Emperor has spies everywhere. I’m sure your slaves are loyal, but you never know who may be listening.’

As if on cue, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the court. Another larger shadow followed it. My heart gave a lurch and Julia clutched my arm, but then a familiar voice said, ‘Master?’ and I breathed again.

It was my attendant, Junio, and the lumpy slave who had gone to find him from the house. ‘Mistress, I am sorry if we startled you,’ the girl said. ‘And you too, citizen. But there is such a commotion in the house that I thought it better to come the long way round and bring the slave by the back gate. Even so, we just escaped the guards. They are hunting for Golbo. They have been everywhere in the main part of the house, and — oh, madam — I believe they will come here very soon and question you. What will you tell them if they do?’

‘That he is not here, of course, since he very evidently is not,’ Julia said quickly.

Too quickly. Suddenly my brain, which had been lulled to sleep by too much wine, struggled into consciousness again. Golbo was the bucket-boy who had disappeared. ‘But he was here, wasn’t he? Dear lady, do not attempt to deny the truth, especially to me. How can I hope to help you otherwise? Of course the boy was here. How else did you hear the news that Marcus had been seized? No one else left the colonnade after the guards arrived.’

‘With respect, master, that is not entirely true,’ Junio put in. ‘A slave came from the banquet hall several times to fetch servants from the waiting room when their owners wanted to go home, both before the soldiers came, and afterwards.’ He gave me his familiar cheeky grin. ‘I was hoping you were going to call for me, but it was a long time before you did. In the end there were only a half a dozen of us there — apart from Praxus’s and Mellitus’s personal slaves, of course, but they were staying in the house.’