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She smiled. ‘You must be proud of him. He looks quite elegant.’

When he learns to manage his toga-folds he will, I thought, but what I said was, ‘Thanks to your generosity, lady. And I know that he has you to thank for the gift of the roundhouse as well.’

‘Then you can repay me, Libertus, by dealing with this corpse. I’m not generally superstitious, but it worries me — coming exactly at this time of year, just before our visit overseas.’ Another smile, a self-mocking one this time. ‘If I were Honoria Aurelia, I think I would say that I have a premonition of bad luck.’

Chapter Six

There were no slaves waiting outside the door, except for Julia’s two maids — the others were all assigned to attend the bath party by now — so I found myself escorted back to Stygius by one of the girls, while the other accompanied her mistress to her room. It was one of Julia’s little vanities to purchase homely female slaves, so that she would look more beautiful by contrast, I suppose, and these were no exception. Both of them were plain.

My guide was the taller and the skinnier of the pair, a rather gangling nervous-looking girl whose straight dark hair and pointed nose and chin made her look even thinner than she was. I looked appraisingly at her as she led the way, wondering if I could tactfully raise the question of the corpse. I wanted to discover what the servants’ gossip was, in case there was anything to be gleaned from that source — it is surprising how often slaves know more than their masters ever dream of — but I was not sure if she would talk to me.

I need not have worried. She was as anxious as I to discuss the day’s events.

‘This business has upset the mistress terribly,’ she confided, pausing in the peristyle garden where there was no one else to hear, and favouring me with a smile which showed her rabbit’s teeth.

I recognised an opening, and I prompted more. ‘I’ve never known her go in for private prayer like that before. She must be really worried.’

A nod. ‘I realised that, as soon as Stygius came in to give us the news about the hands — she told us off for giggling at him behind his back, whereas usually she’s the one who makes fun of him because he is so slow.’ She gulped. ‘Citizen. .’ she glanced around to make certain that we were alone, ‘do you really think the Lemures will put a curse on us?’

It was clearly a question that was troubling her. She was plucking at a herb bush and crushing the leaves between her fingers as she spoke — the sort of behaviour that would earn her a punishment, if either of her owners had caught her doing it. She saw me watching her, and blushed, hastily putting the offending sprig behind her back.

I saw an opportunity to make an ally here. I answered the question as if I had not seen. ‘Not if we find out who this person was, and give the corpse a proper funeral,’ I said. ‘Something befitting his rank and condition. So if you hear anything whatever about a missing youth, make sure you report it straight away. To me, if possible.’

Rather to my surprise she shook her head. ‘It isn’t very easy for me to come to you. I hardly leave the house unless I am accompanying the mistress somewhere. We handmaidens don’t get a chance to go out very much, and besides, we hardly ever talk to anyone who’s not a fellow slave, so it isn’t very likely that I’d learn anything of use. I haven’t spoken to anyone outside the house for days — unless you count an entertainer who stayed here overnight, but even he was walking back to Glevum through the grounds and could talk of nothing but his performance at the feast and the weight of the bag of costumes he was carrying. One of the mistress’s friends might mention something, I suppose, or one of the tradesmen calling from the town, but we don’t hear much gossip, in the general way.’

‘I see.’ I could tell that she was fidgeting with the sprig again. It gave off a faint smell of rosemary.

She realised this herself, and quickly stuffed the aromatic evidence into the bush behind her back. ‘If you want real information, you ought to ask the page. He’s the one who goes everywhere with the master, so he sees much more than we do of the outside world. He will have heard if there is anything to know.’

‘He also comes and goes with messages, I suppose?’ I said, suddenly wondering if Niveus’s inexperience had played a part in this affair. I knew that Marcus had used his former pages as constant couriers, sometimes with important documents under seal. A letter which had fallen into the wrong hands, perhaps? Some disappointed contact, desperate for news, attempting to reach Marcus in disguise? A dozen possibilities were coursing through my brain.

The maidservant dispelled them. ‘Not really, any more. Niveus can ride, of course. For his age, he’s quite impressive on a horse — it’s one of the things which recommended him — but even the master has reluctantly agreed that the boy is far too immature to send on the roads alone, with any message of importance, anyway.’

I could see the force of that. With his pale, blond looks and that red uniform, any forest bandit would see him coming half a mile away, and Niveus was built for decoration rather than self-defence. Even giving him a weapon would not have helped a lot — he was too small to wield a dagger to very much effect. I unwillingly abandoned my little theory.

The girl was still anxious to be helpful, though. ‘You could speak to Aulus, the front gatekeeper, perhaps. He’s a fairly horrid person, brutal as a bear, but he does see everything that’s passing in the lane, and he speaks to all the visitors, of course.’

‘Thank you. That’s a very good idea.’ I did not mention that I knew the gatekeeper of old. He had been a spy for Marcus once, before my patron bought this villa for himself, and I had already determined that I would speak to him. He still had the informer’s habit of noting everything, so I was prepared to brave the stinking breath, though it would cost me something if he had news to tell. Aulus also had an informer’s instinct for reward.

The slave girl smiled. ‘I’m glad to be of use. My name is Atalanta, by the way. If I do hear anything, I’ll try to let you know.’ She led the way towards the further gate, ready to usher me into the stable yard.

I paused before going through it. ‘And there isn’t any gossip in the house at all? None of the slaves has anything to say? No rumours about unusual incidents? No guesses about who the victim is?’ Usually, when there is a homicide like this, there are a hundred different theories in the servants’ hall — most of them completely impossible, of course, but occasionally there is something which can give a lead.

Atalanta shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know. It’s quite a mystery. Of course we took it for a peasant, till Stygius saw the hands — and even then we thought it was a girl. But now. .’ She shrugged. ‘Everyone seems completely baffled, even the senior slaves, who usually pretend that they know everything.’

I had to smile at this. I have spent long enough as a slave to recognise the type. I would have given her a coin, but I still didn’t have a purse — I had given mine to Lucius earlier — so she had to be content with a smile. ‘You have been very helpful. I shall remember that,’ I said, dismissing her, and went into the outer courtyard on my own.

Stygius had stationed himself in front of the building where the body lay, and I saw that he had armed himself with an ancient wooden hoe — though whether this was to ward off curious eyes, or to protect himself from phantoms, it was difficult to say. The door to the room had been left ajar again, and I could faintly see the flickering candles and the shrouded form.

When he saw me Stygius came lumbering across. ‘Ah, there you are, citizen. I thought you would come back.’ He looked at me with curiosity. ‘Have they decided what they’re going to do with that?’ He jerked a thumb towards the dead man as he spoke. ‘I thought yon Lucius would have persuaded them to light the pyre at once.’

‘I think they were waiting to see if there was any news.’ I left an opening for a comment, but he offered none. I prompted him again. ‘From those land slaves of yours who were sent out earlier, asking questions around the neighbourhood.’