Rosemary Rowe - A Whispering of Spies

‘But he must have. .’ Brianus began, just as Florens snorted and said, ‘Who else would have written them? They were fastened with his seal.’

I looked into the pink-rimmed eyes again. ‘Exactly, councillor. The seal that was found on the finger of that severed hand last night. Obviously it was meant to suggest to us that this was Voluus’s corpse, when it was actually someone else — in this case Antolinus, I suspect. I should have realized that it was peculiar. Why rob a man and leave his toga-clasp and seal — both of which are likely to be valuable things?’

‘Well, it was not the first time,’ Florens pointed out. ‘One of the bodies of the escort still had a ring on it.’

‘Did it now?’ I asked him. ‘And how do you know that? I seem to recall that you were in the public baths all day and then attended a sacrificial banquet afterwards. How did you come to see the fingers of a corpse?’

Florens was fidgeting. ‘Servilis must have told me. He took a letter out there, when you were there yourself.’

Servilis said nothing. He was sitting silently, looking at his owner as if he hated him.

‘I don’t think so,’ Emelius observed. ‘The bodies were already in the death-cart when he came, and he went nowhere near it. I was there, also, and I can swear to that.’

‘You see,’ I said. ‘The councillor clearly did not see it for himself, but he knew that it had happened. And I think that I know why. It was all part of the plan. Leave one ring, and then another will not seem so strange, and chop the head and limbs off, so that people are much more difficult to identify? Who did it for you, Florens? Antolinus, I suppose? He had the knowledge to dissect a corpse, and a soldier would have a better stomach for the task.’

Emelius was shaking a bewildered head. ‘Why leave a ring at all?’

‘Because Florens had the lictor’s ring, that’s why, and he intended to leave it on a corpse for us to find — so we would believe that Voluus was newly dead. He took it from the body when he murdered him, of course — not recently but months ago, when he took Voluus to his villa on the promise of a horse. Brianus has just told us that his master borrowed one, and who more likely to have lent him one, than the councillor that he was dining with that night? But he never rode it. He was murdered then and there, and no doubt buried somewhere on the property. He wasn’t missed, of course. Everybody in Britannia thought that he’d returned to Gaul and those in Gaul supposed he was still here — especially when a series of sealed messages arrived. Most of them written by the councillor, no doubt, though Alcanta must have written some herself, saying what was in the carts and when they would arrive.’

Brianus looked hurt and mystified. ‘But why would my ex-mistress do a thing like that?’

‘Because she hoped to be united with the man she called her “love”, her so-called husband, by whom she’d had a child. She thought herself betrothed to him and would have married him — but her brother disapproved and had him conscripted before they could be wed. Perhaps they wrote in secret — I rather think they did — and she contrived to let him know that she was now with child.’

Emelius whistled. ‘So that’s why Antolinus faked his own death in that rebel raid? So he could run away to her? I recall the commander saying that the bodies that were found were still in uniform, but so badly hacked about, that if we had not known who was missing we could not have identified them for a burial.’ He shook his head, remembering. ‘He must have loved the lady very much.’

‘The trouble was, I think she heard that he was dead, and there was the coming child to think about. Her brother might have thrown her from the house, so she was desperate to marry anyone as soon as possible. I think that’s where Florens’s role came into it. He discovered Antolinus — I’m not certain how, perhaps he really did want to acquire the farm from him — and worked out that he was a deserter in disguise. But instead of betraying him to the garrison, he listened to the story and, seeing an opportunity, cooked up a plan. He would go to Gaul, contract to wed the girl, bring her back and keep the huge dowry as his own reward, while she went off with Antolinus to his farm. I’ve no proof of that of course, but it seems the likely explanation of events. And Marcus told me that Florens tried to wed a foreign heiress once.’

‘You are quite right, citizen.’ Alcanta had regained her feet and had come — unnoticed — to listen in. Her face was drawn and stained with recent tears, but she held her head high and spoke with dignity. ‘That’s exactly what he did.’ She gave a little sob — not of grief but fury, I was amazed to realize. ‘Florens is very good at little plans like that. But when he got to me, it was far too late. My brother had contracted me to Voluus by then.’

Florens gave a roar and tried to lunge at her. Three soldiers pounced on him at once, and this time — councillor or not — they bound him hand and foot: none too gently, either, using the ties of his own tunic to secure his knees.

Alcanta blinked at him. ‘Don’t hurt him too much. I still owe him a little bit of gratitude.’ She turned to me. ‘Have you ever met the lictor, citizen? I wish I never had. He was a brute, a monster — he loved to cause you pain. When Florens told me that Antolinus was alive and that there might be a chance of seeing him, I pleaded with my husband to give me a divorce. He only laughed, of course, twisting my arm until he forced the truth from me — or most of it. I managed to hold out and not to tell him where Antolinus was — he would only have had him hunted down and put to death for desertion. Neither did I tell him that I was with child, because he would have realized that it was not his own. But Florens had a plan. He wrote to Voluus, inviting him to come here to Britannia — promising a future on the curia, a welcome banquet and all sorts of things. Voluus was flattered — he was always vain. He came to Glevum practically at once. It worked out splendidly. I had the child in peace.’

‘While Florens met him here and arranged to murder him!’ I said, casting a triumphant look towards the councillor. ‘Having contrived to be nominated as your guardian?’

She shook her head. ‘It should not have happened exactly as it did. The intention was to poison him after we’d all arrived in Britannia — these things can happen with unfamiliar food. But Voluus had spies. One of my servants wrote to him while he was here and told him of the child — I had meant to pass it off as belonging to a maid until after Voluus was dead.’

‘I see! So that was the letter that Voluus received that day in the mansio?’ It was making sense at last. That kind of fury comes from jealousy, not fear. ‘Not a threat at all!’

She nodded. ‘He was so furious that he threatened to return home that very day. He would have murdered me. Fortunately Florens intercepted him.’

Brianus was pawing at my arm again. ‘But I’m sure I heard that the letter was a threat. It was discovered afterwards, at the mansio.’

‘Not that letter, Brianus,’ I told him solemnly. ‘That message was destroyed. You told me Florens read it — and it gave him an idea. He had already planned to murder Voluus, but if he wrote another letter and left it to be found that would start the rumour of the threats. I imagine he wrote sealed letters to the house in Gaul, apparently from Voluus himself, explaining that the lictor wasn’t coming back, and making arrangements for moving all the goods. No one but Alcanta would have known about the truth, and she was quite content. She hoped to be reunited with her love in exchange for everything she had. But there had to be a body, representing Voluus, or some awkward questions would be asked. That’s where the threats came in. The authorities would look for ancient enemies.’