David Wishart - Bodies Politic

‘Always a first, boy, always a first.’ The slaves were transferring luggage from Marilla and Clarus’s carriage to our cart, and changing the horses for the fresh ones they’d brought from Bovillae: we’d be travelling through the night to pick up a bit of distance, with Alexis and the two skivvies spelling Lysias and the cart-drivers. ‘Quick cup of wine while we’re waiting?’

‘Sure, if you like.’ He’s no wine-drinker, Clarus – that’s another difference between us – but he’s quite happy to sit and sip. Besides, Perilla and the Princess were talking wedding business, which I’d had up to the ears.

We went inside. Inns out in the sticks are pretty hit-and-miss – you wouldn’t want to spend the night in one, for a start – but the Bovillae crossroads is fairly major, and of course there’s a lot of passing traffic. The place wasn’t crowded, by any means, but there were a few punters at the bar counter and sitting around the tables, which is always a good sign. It was clean, too, and that’s not something you take for granted. I had a look at the board: not a bad list, but then this close to the Alban Hills it shouldn’t be.

All in all, a pretty good place.

‘Half a jug of the Fundanan, pal,’ I said to the innkeeper. ‘You serve meals, by the way? Not to eat in; to take out.’ We didn’t have time to stop for dinner, but some hot food would be welcome

‘Sure.’ The guy reached for an empty half jug and filled it from the jar. ‘Hare stew. Lentils with leeks. Or I can grill you some sausages.’

I poured the Fundanan into the cups he set in front of us and sipped. Not bad. Not bad at all. Always judge a place by its wine. ‘Make it all three, I said. ‘Enough for twelve. No, that’s thirteen with the carriage-driver. Can you manage that?’

‘No bother, sir. Ready in twenty minutes.’

‘Fine.’ That’s another thing about inns next to major roads, they’re geared up to takeaways and really fast food. I turned back to Clarus. ‘Incidentally, the sketches for those busts. Did Paullus manage to get them done in time?’

‘Oh, yes. He came through four or five days ago and was finished in an hour. Perfect likenesses. He’s good, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah. Quite a find, young Paullus.’

‘He said he’d have the busts themselves done by mid-September.’

‘Great.’ Well, that was a relief. If there’d been a hitch with her wedding present Mother would’ve killed me. ‘Everything okay otherwise?’

‘No problems.’ He hesitated. ‘Paullus said you’d got him to do some sketches yourself. Or one, anyway. Of someone you were trying to find.’

I took a swig of the wine. ‘That’s right.’

‘You find him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Corvinus, are you on a case here? I mean, this sudden trip to Alexandria. It’s not just for pleasure, is it?’

Bugger: he’s sharp, is Clarus. Still, he’d’ve got to know sooner or later anyway. ‘No, it isn’t. And yeah, I suppose you could call it a case if you wanted to.’

‘Fantastic!’ He beamed. ‘Marilla was wondering. She’ll be delighted.’

Oh, hell. Time for some ground rules. ‘Look, pal,’ I said, ‘we’ve been through this before. Whatever I’m doing, as far as you and the Princess are concerned you’re on holiday. Especially the Princess. See the sights, shop, have a good time, let me faff around how I like. That is final, okay?’

‘You want to tell me what it’s about?’

‘No.’

He shrugged. ‘Please yourself. But unless you can arrange to go deaf for the duration you’re going to have a hard time of it between now and Alexandria. The girl is no pushover, believe me, and she is very, very persistent.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know, pal. Even so, it’s no business of yours.’

‘We’ll see,’ Clarus said.

‘That we will. Just don’t mention it to her, right?’

‘I won’t have to. She’ll find out anyway.’

‘ Alexis, stop the carriage! Stop the bloody carriage! ’

‘Oh, Marcus, not again! That’s the fifth time tonight!’

‘Bloody, bloody hare stew!’

‘No one else has had any problems with it, dear. Drink some more of Clarus’s stomach mixture.’

‘Fuck the stomach mixture! Just move over so I can get out of the fucking door!’

‘ Marcus! ’

Ah, the joys of travelling.

We reached Brindisi on the afternoon of the eleventh day. The boat would be loading the next morning and sailing at noon, so I booked us into a suite at one of the big guest houses along the coast from the harbour itself: being the main port for Greece and the east, with a fair-sized slice of its population from March to November in transit to elsewhere, Brindisi has these rarities, and they’re not bad, catering as they do for the middle class bracket of the market who don’t have friends to stay with locally but wouldn’t go near the fleapits which are the traveller’s only usual alternative. Certainly it’d do for one night, and after the carriage, comfortable as it was, I was looking forward to a real bed for a change. Especially since it’d be the last real bed I’d get until we landed.

Perilla was opening the doors of the three rooms that led off a common sitting area with couches and a table.

‘But it’s lovely, Marcus!’ she said. ‘So compact! There’re even window-boxes with flowers. Which one do you want, Marilla?’

‘Oh, I don’t mind.’

‘Then Marcus and I will take the one on the end. They’ve all got the same view, so you’re right, it doesn’t really matter. Just put our trunk in there,’ she said to the slaves with the luggage. ‘Marcus, did you ask about dinner?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘There’s a big communal dining room downstairs. Or we can have it up here.’

‘Oh, I think the dining room would be quite fun. We can have a look at it anyway, and decide later.’

‘There’s a bath suite as well.’

‘ Fantastic! I would kill for a bath.’ She grinned. ‘This place really is marvellous, isn’t it, dear? Much more the east than Italy. Why don’t they have them more often?’

Good question. Well, like I said, being the major port for Greece Brindisi works to different standards from the usual Italian towns. We could be back in Antioch.

‘So what do you want to do?’ I said. ‘Dinner’s towards sunset and we’ve got practically the whole afternoon to play with.’

‘Marilla?’ she said.

‘A bath sounds great. After ten days in the carriage I stink.’

‘Fine, dear. Then we can go out and have a look at the town. There must be something to see, and it’s not too hot. Marcus?’

‘ I’d rather stretch my legs first. I thought I might go along to the harbour, check where the Erytheis is berthed.’ The Erytheis was the ship we’d be travelling on. ‘Clarus?’

‘I’ll go with you,’ Clarus said. ‘Have the bath later.’

‘Okay. Rendezvous back here in time for dinner. Where have they put you, pal?’ I said to Alexis, who was supervising the luggage-slaves.

‘In the attics, sir. Very comfortable. And there’s even a servants’ dining hall, too.’

All mod cons. I was impressed with this place, they thought of everything: put up in your usual Italian flop-house and the bought help slept and ate where they could. Bathyllus would still’ve been miffed, mind. The little guy’s wants were few and simple, but a bed under the tiles just didn’t square with them.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘We’ll get off. See you later.’

It was good to have real pavement under my sandals again. And like Perilla had said it wasn’t too hot: the north-easterly breeze that’d take us direct to Alexandria kept the air moving. We walked along the corniche past the other guest houses and upmarket private properties towards the harbour complex proper.