Ruth Downie - Ruso and the Root of All Evils

‘Not even to remind the others to pay?’

The Medicus eyed her as if he was not sure where she had heard of such a thing. She said, ‘I understand about borrowing. I am not a stupid barbarian like you think.’

‘I’ve never thought you were stupid.’

She noticed he did not say anything about her not being a barbarian.

‘Probus isn’t like the Gabinii,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t own enough muscle to make trouble and he doesn’t have huge sums of money stashed away. He has to take in cash so he can lend it out. Nobody’s going to trust their savings to a violent man.’

This was something she had not considered.

‘In fact, if Severus was fool enough to send Cass’s brother to sea in a leaky old bucket, Cass had more reason to want him dead than …’ His voice tailed off into silence.

‘She did not know about the ship being bad.’

‘But she was there.’

‘Where?’

‘She was around when Severus came to visit. She knew what he was threatening to do to the family. She gave him the drink.’

This was not what Tilla had intended. It was hard to believe that such a fond mother could be a secret poisoner. On the other hand, how far would a woman go to protect her children? Tilla did not want to think about it. She folded her arms. ‘If you are sure it is not that Probus man, then I think you should be very careful,’ she said. ‘It could be your old wife.’

‘Claudia? Never.’

‘How do you know?’

‘She’s not that sort of person.’

‘Nobody is that sort of person all the time. Her husband is a bad man. We know he steals money from your family and he is no good at choosing a ship, and she has to live with this man every day. You think yours is the only little sister he tries to sleep with?’

‘That’s a reason for divorcing him,’ he said. ‘Not murdering him.’

It was always hard work making the Medicus look at something he was trying to avoid. ‘If a wife wants to keep the husband’s money but not the husband,’ she explained, ‘he must be dead. Not divorced.’

Again, he looked askance at her, as if he was wondering how she had thought of something like that. ‘But he didn’t have any money,’ he said. ‘He didn’t own any of the property on the estate and after the ship sank he must have owed a huge amount to Probus.’

That was something she had not thought of. She said, ‘Did you tell her what he said at the end?’

‘Yes.’

‘So now you can tell me. Perhaps I can help.’

She heard him take in a breath. ‘It’s awkward.’

Tilla wound a strand of hair around her forefinger. The little he had told her about the old wife had suggested he was relieved to be rid of her, but the business between men and women was always complicated, and there was no way of knowing whether he had told the whole story.

Nobody here had known that the Medicus had a British woman until she had arrived. Everyone here thought he was single. Claudia, when she found out her second husband was much worse than the first one, could have sent that letter herself, waited until she had the Medicus back in Gaul, and then murdered her husband. Now the Medicus was stupid enough to defend her. It all fitted together, and it made a shape Tilla did not like.

She slid the finger out and let the hair unravel into a ringlet. The shape in her mind twisted into something worse.

‘If a woman poisons her husband, she said, ‘she must pretend that it was not her who did it. So she might wait until he is on the way to see someone else and give him something that will not kill him until he gets there.’

‘Claudia wouldn’t do that to me,’ he said.

The words hung in the heavy air of the winery.

‘She wouldn’t,’ he insisted.

The Medicus was stubborn. The old wife was an untried enemy. Trying to argue him back into his senses might well do the opposite. She said, ‘I am sorry you do not trust me.’

‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, Tilla, it’s just …’ He hesitated. ‘Look, if I tell you, you must promise not to repeat it.’

‘Yes.’

‘He was obviously confused at the end. He didn’t know what he was saying.’

‘Yes.’

‘So when he said, The bitch has poisoned me , it can’t have meant what everyone will think.’

Tilla took a long, slow breath.

He said, ‘Well, you did ask.’

‘This is the last thing he wants to say to the world, but the old wife tells you he is lying, so you are trying to find somebody else to blame.’

‘I’m trying to find out the truth.’

‘But you already know!’

When he did not reply, Tilla said, ‘Perhaps you should try and think inside your head, even if she is my old wife, should I believe everything she is saying to me?’

‘I’m the only one who can help her, Tilla.’

‘The Senator will send a man from Rome to ask questions. Then we will see whether you should help her or not.’

The Medicus got to his feet. ‘Next time,’ he said, brushing the dust off the back of his tunic, ‘I’ll lie to you. Will that make you happy?’

Next time I’ll lie to you? Tilla stared at the froth winking at the mouth of one of the great jars. All the things she wanted to say tumbled over each other in her mind and ended up in a soggy tangle that came out as ‘No.’

She wished she had not come to this place. Nothing had gone right from the moment they had arrived at the farm. Now she felt as if some sort of unsuspected hollow had opened up underneath her. As if he had been watching her all along, comparing her with the old wife and the widow next door as a man would compare horses for a race. If she pushed him too far, he would lie to her. He had just told her so.

She put the platter aside and stood up. Keeping her voice as bright as she could manage, she said, ‘I will find out from Galla which fish-seller knows about the ship.’

‘In the meantime, tell her from me to keep it quiet.’

‘Yes. Can she go back to the house now?’

‘I don’t know why she isn’t in the house,’ he said. ‘What’s this fuss about taking the girls to town?’

She explained. ‘She is here because a servant cannot do two different orders from two different people. The mother wants her to tell what she knows about the daughters, but the daughters order her to be silent. It is not her fault.’ She would have repeated, ‘It is not fair,’ but now she must remember to be careful not to annoy him.

‘I’ll straighten it out with Arria.’

There were footsteps in the yard outside. A shadow fell across the rows of jars. Tilla said, ‘You can talk to Galla. She is here.’

Galla drew back, alarmed.

Tilla beckoned her in. ‘The master is going to say you can go back to work in the house.’

‘Not yet.’ The Medicus was reaching for his stick. ‘I’ll talk to Arria.’

‘But you are head of the family!’ She stopped. Would he go back and tell the old wife about the awkward Briton who was always arguing with him? ‘They must do what you say,’ she suggested.

‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘But then she’ll be having two different orders from two different people again, won’t she? You have to do things in the right order with servants, Tilla.’

‘Yes,’ she said, hitching her tunic up over her belt. She dipped her feet in the bucket to rinse them. Then she climbed back into the treading trough and, before she could stop herself, said, ‘I can see that telling people what to do all day is very hard work.’

The pungent mixture of burned walnut husks and vinegar that the bath-boy was dutifully plastering across the top of Lucius’ head was unlikely to cure his bald patch, but it would not help to point that out. Instead Ruso leaned back against the side of the warm bath, let his injured foot float to the surface and observed, ‘I hear Tilla spent the day in the winery.’