Rosemary Rowe - The Chariots of Calyx

‘Citizen Libertus,’ the governor was saying, ‘I am extremely glad to see you.’ He had made a point of having me summoned to his rooms, as soon as he heard that I was in the building, so he could speak to me in person. He was being prepared for an official engagement, and a slave was helping him into his synthesis — that light and useful combination of toga and tunic which men of substance often wear to formal banquets. ‘I am sorry I am not able to entertain you myself. I was not expecting you back so soon, and this is one of a series of civic banquets to mark the end of my period in office. However, I have made arrangements for a meal to be prepared for you. You may eat in the triclinium , or have it served in your room if you prefer.’

The thought of rattling around in the empty dining room of the palace did not appeal to me, so I accepted his latter offer with alacrity, and then, at his urging, told him the events of the day. He listened gravely, while slaves placed rings upon his hands, cleaned his ears with ear scoops and rubbed perfumed oil into his hair.

He was visibly startled when I told him about Fortunatus.

‘You say he has returned to Londinium, hurt?’ He shook his head. ‘He must have entered the city very quietly, otherwise I should have heard of it. He is famous among the soldiers and that kind of news travels very quickly.’

This had not occurred to me, although now that Pertinax had mentioned it, it seemed obvious enough. Of course, wheeled transport was not permitted on urban streets in daylight, and Fortunatus would presumably have had to transfer to a litter to get back to his quarters. That would certainly have drawn attention to his arrival. ‘Unless, of course, he was well enough to walk,’ I said.

In that case, as we both knew, he might well have managed to slip past the town guard unremarked. Even in a place like Glevum, a well-known man could pass the gates unnoticed in a crowd, provided he wore a simple hooded tunic, kept his head down, and there was nothing to connect him to his background. In a city of this size it would be easier still.

Pertinax thought about this for a moment. ‘You think that this charioteer is the killer?’ he said at last.

‘I don’t know, Excellence. I only know that he was here in the city that night, after all, and therefore it would have been possible. Unless of course that fall from the chariot has really affected his sight, and he is confined to his bed. I hope to discover that tomorrow. I want to confront Fortunatus in person, if I can.’

The commander-in-chief of all the Britannic legions nodded his head. ‘And if you wish to pay a visit to the grain stores, as you were suggesting, I will arrange to have you taken there. It would be quite convenient. The Blues have their headquarters very close to one of the granaries.’

I began to thank him but he waved my words aside. ‘By the bye, mosaic-maker, those enquiries you requested yesterday. I sent a slave down to the market to ask at all the jewellers’, and we found the fellow easily. It was exactly as you thought. The necklace belonging to Annia Augusta was repaired, and returned to Monnius’ house. On the very evening of the murder, in fact. The jeweller delivered it himself, at the feast, and he confirms that it is indeed the one you brought away from the house and left with me. He recognised the replacement stone, he said, though I couldn’t detect any difference between them.’

I murmured my thanks.

Pertinax smiled and extended one hand for a slave to clean his fingernails and buff them with scented oil. ‘I am sorry, Libertus, to have given you all these duties and then left you to dine alone when you are supposed to be my guest. However, I have tried to make amends. I asked your slave what foods would please you most. I have ordered what he suggested — fresh trout baked in cabbage leaves, a dish of leeks and peas with oil, and a plate of peppered plums to end with. And no liquifrumen or garum with it. That meets with your approval?’

It certainly did. I stammered that I was honoured that the governor should concern himself so much with my welfare. I hoped that, in turning down the garum , Junio had managed to convey my dislike for all varieties of the Romans’ beloved fermented fish-entrail sauce without giving offence.

Pertinax smiled broadly. ‘Oh, and at his suggestion there also will be some spiced mead for you — he assures me that he can prepare it. My kitchens will arrange the rest — they will bring it to you shortly.’

He bent forward to allow an attendant to fasten the brooch-pin on his shoulder, and made a gesture of farewell. ‘Goodnight, pavement-maker. I wish you well in your enquiries. Bring this to a quick conclusion, and we shall soon be on that progress to Eboracum.’ He held out the perfumed hand for me to kiss the seal ring, and I bowed myself out of his presence backwards.

The province of Britannia, I thought to myself as I followed the attendant back to my bedchamber, would do well to find another governor as good as this austere and kindly man.

When I got to my room I found Junio waiting for me, with the promised supper on a tray already set waiting on the table. I was surprised, and a little irritated. I had expected Superbus to attend me, and I wanted to hear more about Eppaticus.

‘Master?’ Junio said in an introductory tone as he stripped off my toga and helped me make a swift libation to the gods.

I frowned. I knew that gambit; it meant that he was dying to tell me something.

‘Well then,’ I said, settling myself on a stool and preparing to make short work of the trout. ‘What is it? Come on, I know you have heard something in the servants’ hall.’ I put down my spoon suddenly. ‘Don’t tell me that the Trinovantine came here after all, and tried to hold Superbus to his bargain?’

‘Not quite that, master,’ Junio said. ‘Someone did come here this morning. A well-dressed slave, according to the doorkeepers, with a message, apparently for you. Superbus took it.’

‘A message!’ I frowned. ‘Who would be sending me a message? My patron Marcus, perhaps?’

‘I don’t know, master.’ Junio paused. ‘But that is not really the problem. Apparently a little later Superbus went out. .’ Another pause.

‘And?’

‘And he hasn’t come back,’ Junio finished dismally.

I gaped like the trout. ‘Then where is he? Where did he go?’

‘I don’t know, master. That is what all the other servants have been asking me. He claimed that he was going out to do something for you. Something very confidential.’

I almost groaned aloud. ‘For me?’

‘Yes. That is why no one in the household questioned it. Everyone knew that His Excellence had put him at your service. Only, of course, they were expecting Superbus back — especially now that we have come ourselves. The chief slave sent for me on purpose to ask about it.’

This time I did groan. ‘And does Pertinax know that one of his valuable slaves is missing?’

‘Not yet, master — though he will have to be told. Of course, if Superbus does not come back there’ll be a slave-hunt for him.’

I buried my head in my hands. In a household this size, a single slave might be gone for hours before he was missed, and even then it would not be by his master. But once a slave-hunt was in progress, every soldier in the town would be alerted, and there would be a price on Superbus’ head, dead or alive. If it was supposed that I had helped him to escape, I could be under arrest myself.

Though I doubted that he had run away. More likely he was the victim of attack. Eppaticus, for instance. If so, I was legally responsible. I had borrowed Superbus, and if anything had happened to him in my service, which I might have prevented, the law would require me to replace him — just as I would have to replace a horse or any other possession that I could not return in good working order. And after the earlier attack, I should have prevented this. I found myself trying to calculate what Superbus’ market price might be.