Rosemary Rowe - The Chariots of Calyx

‘Of course, he may turn up safely yet,’ I said, as though by voicing the idea I could persuade myself.

‘Yes, master.’

‘Pertinax is a fair man. If Superbus was attacked, he would never hold me responsible. In any case, it may have nothing to do with Eppaticus at all. Or with Superbus breaking his bargain.’

‘No, master.’

I pushed away the platter. Junio knew as well as I did that, if I could not afford to pay for Superbus, my own servant might be taken in ‘noxal recompense’. Suddenly I was no longer hungry. I would simply have to throw myself on Pertinax’s mercy, I thought. I was not looking forward to it. Losing an expensive slave is a poor way to repay hospitality.

‘Where in the world do you think he went?’ I demanded, as much of myself as of Junio. ‘What was he up to, for Mars’ sake? Putting himself in a position where Eppaticus could find him? Surely he didn’t go down to the market enquiring at the jeweller’s himself? I distinctly told him not to. In fact, I told him very particularly to stay in the palace.’

‘I know you did, master.’ Junio was doing his best to be comforting. ‘Perhaps Superbus decided to buy himself a slave from Eppaticus after all. Unless,’ he added with a sudden flash of insight, ‘he went off to try to redeem himself a bit? Ask the questions that he didn’t ask the first time, and find out if Eppaticus ever dealt in grain?’

Once he had suggested it, I had to admit that it seemed extremely likely. It would be just like Superbus, from what I’d seen of him, to try to rectify what he saw as an error of judgement. It was hardly comforting, however.

‘Great Mars! In that case, anything might have happened to him.’

Junio had turned pale — he didn’t need me to spell out the possibilities.

‘Especially if there is a lot of money at stake. And I think there is. Five thousand denarii , at least.’

Junio said nothing for a moment. Then, ‘So, what are you going to do tomorrow, master? Go to the granaries, look for Fortunatus, or try to find Superbus before someone else does?’

I had been asking myself the same question. Previously I had planned to send Superbus to Monnius’ house, overtly to ask more questions of the slaves, but in fact to keep discreet guard over the coins that I had found. But now that was obviously impossible. I said, after a little thought, ‘Perhaps the granaries. The governor says that the Blues live near one, and talking to the traders may lead us to Eppaticus too. Oh, Mercury! I hardly know what to do first.’

Junio went over to the brazier, where something was bubbling gently in a metal pot. ‘I suggest,’ he said with the shadow of a grin, ‘that what you do first is drink this spiced mead I’ve prepared for you, and then take some rest. Then, perhaps, if you have finished with those plums. .? We shan’t make matters any better by wasting good food tonight, and it will be impossible to do anything in a strange city in the dark. We should merely end up being missing ourselves.’

Trust a slave to take a practical view. I reclined on my pillows and did my best to think aloud as I applied myself to the mead and Junio made a hearty meal of the scraps. ‘What happened at the chariot race?’ I said. ‘Was Fortunatus really injured as he said, or did he take the opportunity to come back here, scale the garden wall and throttle his rival? But if so, how did he know where to find the necklace? It only came back to the house that night.’

Junio looked up, his mouth full of vegetables. ‘And how did he let Fulvia know in time to drug the wine?’

I shook my head. ‘And even if he did, why hide the money under the floorboards? Even if Annia is right, and he was trying to make us think that Monnius was killed for money, surely he would take away the cash? And why steal the scroll? This case is full of mysteries. And another thing — what was the message Superbus took for me? Where did he go? And most of all, where has he got to now?’

Whether it was the mead, the comfortable bed, or just the exertions of the last few days, I don’t know, but somehow I felt that I would think more clearly if I closed my eyes a moment.

When I opened them again, it was morning, and Junio was bending over me again. ‘Wake up, master. The governor has arranged for you to visit the grain warehouses this morning. I have breakfast for you here.’

I struggled upright on my pillows. ‘Superbus?’

‘Still missing, I’m afraid, although his master knows it now. The town guards have been alerted, and soldiers are searching the city for him. His Excellence is not blaming you — he seems to feel that this is somehow related to the death of Monnius, and that it is lucky you and I escaped.’

I wasn’t sure I shared that interpretation, but I was duly grateful for it. I eyed the bread and fruit with more enthusiasm. ‘And he has arranged for us to go to the granaries?’

‘There has not been time to alert the warehouses, but you still have that official letter with his seal on it. That should gain you entry anywhere. He gave orders for special transport for you, as soon as he had made the morning sacrifice. They should be waiting now. I have been given directions, master, and I am to take you down there as soon as you are ready.’

What happened next was a surprise to me. Instead of leading me down into the courtyard to a waiting litter, or even to one of the town gates to take a carriage, Junio took me to the back of the palace, turned left at the gate, and down a short path to the river bank.

‘Your transport, master,’ he said, with a gesture and a grin.

I found myself confronted with a barge.

I do not care for water travel. I was captured once by pirates from the sea, and after being hauled aboard their filthy craft I was held in chains in a stinking hold for days until they dragged me blinking into the daylight at a distant port and sold me into slavery. That was an experience I never want to repeat — although it still haunts my nightmares — and I have kept away from water ever since, except when it is necessary to cross a river by a rope-ferry, and even then I scramble off as soon as possible.

I have seen more peaceful water-traffic of course, many times: the docks in Glevum near my home are constantly busy with ships of all descriptions. But I had never voluntarily been aboard a boat since my captivity, and my chief sensation as I was helped up the plank to this one was something very akin to panic. I was sure that it was about to start rocking dangerously, although the water was calm, and I was very glad to sit down on the wooden seat that was provided for me at the stern.

The bargemaster, a squat dark fellow with a bushy beard, hurried up to bow before me and ensure that I was comfortable — so far from my previous experience that I began to feel a little more secure. Junio, though, was delighted by the whole event. When I recovered myself sufficiently to glance in his direction, he was squatting on the deck at my feet, and grinning with careless satisfaction.

‘What a splendid notion, master,’ he murmured. ‘I asked one of the household about it this morning, and it seems that all the grain stores are by the river. This is much the fastest way of visiting them, even if you do not care for boats.’

I hadn’t realised that Junio knew about my fears, and in the interests of dignity I did not reply. Instead I took a feigned interest in the preparations around me. The governor’s personal standard was run up on a small post at the back, and the slave-crew settled into position. It was a dual-purpose barge, designed to be towed by horses when required, or rowed by a bank of oarsmen, one oar on either side. A man with a drum appeared from the quay and took up a position at the bow.