Steven Saylor - Catilina's riddle

I looked towards the house and saw Bethesda's silhouette at one of the windows. I had sent word to her to keep Diana away, and to keep herself away as well. What was she thinking now, gazing out at the group of frightened slaves gathered around the well in the gathering gloom? She would know the truth soon enough. Everyone on the farm would know — there was no way to keep the catastrophe a secret, as I had with Nemo.

I called on Aratus to bring more torches so that I could see the body by a better light. The slaves milled restlessly about, eager to be gone from the place. I told Aratus to dismiss them for now, but to see that all the slaves were gathered together outside the stable within an hour. I stooped beside the body, wincing at the stabbing pain in my shoulders and at the cuts on my elbows and knees where the rough walls of the well had scraped the flesh. Meto, holding a torch, knelt beside me.

'Well, Meto, what can you see?'

He swallowed hard. Even by the ruddy torchlight he looked pale. The flesh is so bloated, it's hard to say. I'm not sure where to begin.'

'Make a list in your head. Either-or, as the philosophers say. Man or woman?'

'Man, of course.' 'Old or young?'

'About the same as Nemo?' he said uncertainly. 'Why do you say that?'

'The grey hairs among the black ones on his chest. And the way his joints are all knobby. Not a boy, but not an old man either.' 'Dark or fair?'

'It's hard to tell much about his skin, the way it's all swollen and discoloured, though I would say it looks weathered by the sun. The hair around his sex is dark.'

'Slave or free?'

'Slave,' he said, without hesitation. 'Because?'

'From where I was standing I saw his back as the slaves pulled him out.'

I reached down to turn the body over but the weight was too much for my injured shoulders. Meto put down his torch, knelt beside me, and helped me tip the corpse.

'There,' he said, picking up his torch and pointing. By its lurid glow we saw the proof of the man's slavery. His back and shoulders were covered with scars. Some were old, almost faded away, while others were vivid and fresh. He had been regularly beaten while he was alive.

'What caused his death?' I asked.

Meto bowed his head, considering. 'Obviously he was killed before he was put in the well, since his head is off. Unless his head is down there, too.' He glanced at the well and swallowed hard.

'I think not. I didn't see it, and neither did the slaves who went down after me. But again, as with Nemo, you're assuming he was murdered. We don't know that. There's no visible wound, except where the head's been cut off, and as with Nemo, that probably happened after he was dead. Who's to say how he died?'

'Unless we can find out who he is.'

'And where he came from.'

'Surely, whoever left Nemo in the barn also left…' Meto frowned. 'What shall we call this one, Papa?'

I looked down at the wretched, lifeless mass of flesh. 'Ignotus,' I said: Unknown.

* * *

A few moments later a slave arrived from the house. The mistress is eager for you to come,' he said, casting furtive glances at the naked corpse. 'And Congrio says that your dinner is getting cold.'

'Tell your mistress that I have no appetite tonight. And while you're at it, tell Aratus to gather all the slaves outside the stable.'

'Even Congrio?'

'Yes, even Congrio.'

By the light of Meto's torch we made our way through the gathering darkness to the stable. The slaves began to assemble and whispered among themselves. A moment later Aratus came down from the house, followed by the kitchen slaves and Congrio.

Aratus stepped beside me and spoke in a low voice. 'They're all here. Do you want to address them yourself^ Master, or shall I?'

'I'll speak to them.'

Aratus stepped forward. 'Quiet! Something important has happened, and the Master wants to speak to us all together.' He stepped away from me but did not join the other slaves, keeping himself apart. Congrio, too, stood off to one side, while his underlings from the kitchen joined the others. Even among slaves there are the high and the low.

I had not addressed the slaves as a group since I had first come to the farm. In the glow of the torches I could see their faces clearly. They looked back at me anxiously. Lucius Claudius had been a lenient master before me. I had been, if anything, more lenient; perhaps too much so, considering that one or more of them must have betrayed me.

'A dead body has been found in the well,' I said. This came as a surprise to no one, since word had already spread among them, but still there was a murmur of excitement. 'Who among you knows how it got there?'

No one spoke. 'Do you mean to tell me that not one of you has any idea how it happened, or when, or who did it?'

They looked at me and at one another evasively, cleared their throats, shook their heads. At last one of them meekly raised his hand and stepped forward. It was the oldest slave on the farm, a greybeard called Clementus.

'Yes, speak up,' I said.

'A few nights ago I thought I heard something…' 'Yes?'

'A sound coming from the well. I often wake up in the night — I never sleep straight through. I always have to rise in the night to pass water. It's been like that since I was a young man. Others always chide me and say I have a small bladder, but it makes no difference whether it's full when I go to bed or not, and as I've gotten older 1—'

'Get to the point' said Aratus. 'What did you hear?'

'It was late at night, closer to dawn than sundown. The moon had already set, and it was very dark. I was sleeping beneath the lean-to behind the barn when I woke. It was a sound that woke me — a splash coming from somewhere. From the direction of the well, I think. A big splash, but not loud, rather muffled, just as if something large had been dropped down the shaft of the well. I roused myself to piss into the pot I use, then went back to sleep.'

'What night was this?' I asked.

"Three nights ago, I think. Or maybe four. I'd forgotten all about it. It only came back to me just now, hearing about this body dropped down the well.'

'Ridiculous!' snapped Aratus. 'He wakes up needing to relieve himself and hears the sound of splashing! He was dreaming.'

'It seems to me that you cut him short for no reason, Aratus,' I said sharply. 'Why shouldn't he have heard the splash, and why not in the middle of the night? After the splash, Clementus, did you see or hear anything else?'

He scratched his beard. 'Did I? It seems there was someone walking about in the dark after I relieved myself, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. It was a hot night, the kind that keeps people awake, and I don't suppose I'm the only one with a weak bladder. Why shouldn't one of the slaves be up and walking about in the dark?'

'But did you see this man? Do you remember anything about him? Did he speak, or hum a tune? Was he dressed in a certain way or have a certain gait?'

Clementus scratched his beard thoughtfully again, but finally shook his head. 'No, I don't remember anything like that. I only seem to remember someone walking about out in the open area by the well. Perhaps I only dreamed it, or perhaps that was a different night altogether.'

'Useless,' muttered Aratus.

'On the contrary, he seems more alert and aware of what's going on than those who should be responsible for the proper running of this farm and the safety of those who live here,' I said in a low voice.

No one else came forward. No one but Clementus had seen or heard anything. I might as well have been questioning a congregation of the blind and deaf I warned them that I would not hesitate to punish any slave who I later discovered had withheld the truth from me; I searched for flashes of guilt in their eyes, but saw only the natural fear of slaves. I assured them that the well would be purified — as head of the household, the ritual duty would fall to me, though I had no idea how to perform it. So far as I knew, Cato did not cover the subject in his book. Nor did I know how the well might be purified in fact as well as in ritual. What sort of pollution had Ignotus left in the water, and how long would the danger last? I had only Aratus to consult, and as always I didn't fully trust him. I could ask Claudia, but I hardly wanted to share the incident with her.