Rosemary Rowe - The Chariots of Calyx

Fulvia was lying back against her pillows. She had removed her veil and silken belt and placed them on a stool beside the bed, but otherwise she was dressed as before, and her dark robes were in starkest contrast to the beautiful pastel shades around her. One of the pretty pageboys was engaged in bathing her forehead with what looked like goat’s milk and water from a bowl. The other boy stood at the open window-space, which was large — exactly like the one in the next room — and was using a large feather fan to waft away the pungent smoke which was issuing from under the inner door. Nevertheless, the air was heavy with the smells of incense and burning herbs.

Fulvia stretched out a languid hand to me. ‘Ah, you have come, citizen.’ I bent over the hand, and she continued, ‘I was beginning to wonder what had happened. I heard some sort of. . commotion.’

‘Eppaticus the Trinovantine,’ I informed her. ‘Come to demand his money. He claims that your husband owes him twenty thousand sesterces. That’s five thousand denarii !’

I had hoped to provoke some sign of recognition at the name, but there was none. Fulvia wrinkled her pretty brow. ‘Eppaticus,’ she murmured. ‘What an ugly name. I have never heard it, I am sure. I would have remembered it.’

‘You would not forget him in hurry,’ I said. I gave a brief description.

She shook her head. ‘One of my husband’s nasty business contacts, I imagine. I’m sorry, citizen, I cannot help you there.’

‘And the money?’ I enquired. ‘Five thousand denarii is a lot of silver. You think your husband really owed him as much as that?’

She waved a careless hand. ‘Oh, that is quite possible. Monnius was always striking deals.’ She seemed more composed now, speaking about her husband, than she had done previously. She furrowed her pretty brow, and added, ‘Did I not hear that money had been taken? About that amount, I think. Perhaps Eppaticus was right, and that was the money owed to him.’

‘Twenty thousand sesterces?’ I said in amazement. Pertinax had spoken of a ‘substantial sum’, but I had not imagined a small fortune like this. Even carrying away such a quantity of coins would be quite a feat in itself. ‘Did Monnius regularly keep such large amounts in the house?’

Fulvia laughed. ‘Oh yes, citizen. And larger sums than that. He had safe hiding places built especially — under the floorboards in his room, in his study, even in the walls. If you were to search this house from roof to soil I dare say you would find ten times that quantity in gold and silver, even now.’

‘And could you lead me to these hiding places?’

She dazzled me with a smile ‘Not I, citizen. I was never told his secrets. My husband did not trust females with money. Not even his mother. Of course, where I was concerned there was no problem. If I wished for anything, I had merely to ask. Monnius was always’ — she smiled — ‘a susceptible man.’

I let it pass, for the moment — though naturally there were questions I would want to ask her later. I said, ‘And the documents?’

‘Documents?’ She sounded astonished.

‘I understand some scrolls have also disappeared.’

‘Scrolls? I do not think so, citizen.’ She frowned. ‘At least. . I had not heard of this. Documents? You are certain of that?’

‘I report only what I heard,’ I said. ‘A sum of money and at least one document-scroll. Your husband would have had such things, I presume?’

‘Indeed, citizen. His writing desk was always littered with them. I saw him take delivery of some new ones yesterday. Though they are only business contracts and copies of the imperial corn decrees, I think. Why should a sneak thief make away with those?’

‘You have the advantage of me, lady. You have seen his “documents”. Perhaps you could suggest a reason.’

Her pale cheeks coloured faintly. ‘Perhaps I could have done, citizen, except that my father had firm views on educating women. He believed that girls should learn what he called “ useful arts”. Hence, I can play three types of instrument, sing you songs in Latin and in Greek, dance you most kinds of dance and tell you a hundred legends. I can dye wool, weave a length of cloth, mix you a remedy and oversee a household to perfection. But, though I can scratch my name on a wax tablet when required, in general reading is not among my skills. And I did not know that any scrolls were missing.’

She spoke with a kind of bitterness and I could only nod. Celtic girls have always received the same education as their brothers, so that these days, when so many richer Celtic men read Latin, one expects their educated womenfolk to do the same. I am inclined to forget that Roman families sometimes see matters differently. I changed the subject hastily. ‘But, even if you could not read the scrolls, you can tell me something about what happened here last night?’

She had been waiting for that question, one could see it in her eyes. Proud of her skill at storytelling, perhaps, because she gestured me to a stool beside her, waved away the slave with the bowl, and, leaning up on her undamaged arm, arranged herself more carefully on the bed. It was a kind of art form, I could see that — every fold of drapery contrived to emphasise the muscular perfection of her form.

I dragged my thoughts back to what she was saying. ‘. . I woke to hear a noise, in the next room. At least, I did not exactly waken, I was half awake already. I opened my eyes and there was a shadow beside the bed.’ She was acting out the story as she spoke, and said the words with such feeling that I felt my own heart skip a beat.

‘Go on.’

‘There was a movement — I knew it was a knife, and I flung up my arm, like this, to shield my face.’ She lifted her unbandaged limb to demonstrate. ‘Next moment the knife was slicing my skin. Strange, I was aware of little pain — just something warm and sticky running down my arm.’ She looked down at her fingers now, breathing hard.

‘And then?’ I prompted. She had closed her eyes and lapsed into silence, as if she were reliving the moment.

‘I was terrified. I found myself screaming. . screaming.’ She paused. ‘That must have frightened him, because he seemed to hesitate. I thought he was going to stab me again, but then there was a noise upstairs — thanks be to Mercury — and he rushed out of the room. I heard the knife clatter down — I think I’d closed my eyes again — and when I opened them. . he was gone.’ She opened them now and gave me that fluttering, uneven smile again. ‘I am sorry, citizen, but that is all I know.’

‘It was a man, however?’

‘I am sure of that, citizen. A big, heavy man too, by the look of him — although of course I did not see his face.’

‘But agile,’ I said, ‘since he seems to have escaped through the window-space in no time and scaled that ladder over the wall.’

She seemed to sense a challenge in that. She flushed. ‘I may be mistaken, citizen. After all, it was very dark.’

I glanced at her. ‘Of course. No doubt our murderer relied on that. And no one else in the household saw or heard anything?’

She shrugged. ‘Annia Augusta and Lydia and her son have rooms in the other wing. As to the slaves who should have been on watch, I believe they were drugged. Given a sleeping potion to ensure that they did hear nothing. My old nurse thinks so, don’t you, Prisca?’

The elderly slave-woman who had been folding garments ceased her task and nodded agreement. ‘The mistress is right, citizen. There was something peculiar in the servants’ wine last night, I knew it as soon as ever I tasted it. I said so to that pageboy at the master’s door, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He was half asleep before his head even touched the floor.’