‘It is all right, Niveus, you may bring in the tray,’ Marcus said, impatience obvious in his tone. ‘And then I have a little task for you. The citizen Libertus-’
‘Excellence!’ Niveus was so anxious that he actually interrupted the remark. That could have earned him a whipping, but he was too flustered to care. ‘You’re here! And I have only brought two cups! Give me just a moment and I’ll fetch another one!’ He hurried over to the table and put down the tray, so eager that he knocked a metal goblet to the floor, and in trying to retrieve it nearly spilt the wine.
‘You see, Libertus?’ Marcus raised his brows at me, as though seeking recognition that this was an idiot.
Niveus looked very close to tears. He gulped, turned pink and then burst out again, ‘I’m sorry, master. And you too, citizen. I know you asked me-’
I intervened before he managed to make matters any worse. ‘Niveus, thank you, but I do not think I shall require a drink just now.’ It was a lie — my tongue was almost cleaving to my palate as I spoke — but it was obvious that something must be done. ‘And Minimus is found, as you can see. Your master needs him for a special task, and has said that Junio and I can borrow you to escort us home. So, if you are ready?’
He glanced at me with gratitude, but said uncertainly, ‘Should I go and get a cape, then? And who’ll man the anteroom? I’m supposed to greet the visitors and hand out towels. .’
‘I’m sure my steward can find someone to do that onerous task.’ Marcus gave me another of his looks. ‘Even Colaphus could do it, if only Aulus had returned.’
‘The gatekeeper’s still missing, then?’ I frowned. ‘Lucius had a theory that the Silurians might have-’
My patron gave a short impatient laugh. ‘Aulus? I see little chance of that. He’s stronger than an ox. Though I can’t imagine where he’s got to — leaving his post at such a time! I’ll have him soundly whipped when he returns and reduced to bread and water for a week. None of his precious onions. And you too, Niveus, if you make a mess of this. Now, Libertus, Junio, I’ll leave you to make your own arrangements with my page — and have a little wine, if you should change your mind. The sooner I get Minimus safely on his way the better. I want the letter in the hands of a courier today.’ He nodded curtly. ‘Till this evening, then.’
He left the room. Minimus gave me one last, apologetic look, and followed at his heels.
Chapter Eighteen
Junio had been standing quietly all this while, as befits a junior citizen in the presence of a senior magistrate, but as soon as my patron had safely left the room he became his usual lively self again.
‘Father,’ he said, with an excited air. ‘You were telling me about that slave girl — Morella, was she called? — and the tunic she was wearing when Minimus saw her here, which it seems she didn’t have when she left home. So she must have bought it somewhere, mustn’t she? It occurs to me, if Minimus is going to Glevum anyway. .? That is surely the most likely place? Or are you really not going to enquire into the matter any more?’
I gave him a sideways glance. ‘Well. .’ I was forced into the admission with a sheepish grin. ‘Exactly the same thought had occurred to me!’ I beckoned to the page. ‘Niveus, come here. I want you to take a message to Minimus for me. Listen carefully. “There is a woman in the forum who sells old clothes. When you have delivered the letter to the garrison, go and see if she sold that tunic to the girl you saw.” Can you repeat those words exactly?’
Niveus did so, looking mystified.
‘Very good,’ I told him. ‘Now go and say the same thing, word for word, to Minimus. Tell him that the message is from me. You should find him at the stables, being provided with a horse. Hurry, before you miss him. And when you have done that, fetch your cloak, and come back here to us.’
‘On my way, citizen.’ Niveus was almost pink with pride. I heard him muttering as he hurried off, ‘There is a woman in the forum. .’
Junio gave me an approving glance. ‘If more people gave him clear instructions of that kind, perhaps he would be more successful as a page.’ He gestured to the table. ‘Speaking of which, would it be in order for me to pour you out some wine? I know that strictly it is not my place — I am not a slave of Marcus’s and never was — but I know that you are thirsty and he did suggest that we could have some if we liked. The trouble is, he didn’t actually tell Niveus to pour it out.’ He did not wait for my agreement, but began to serve the wine.
‘I learned to give instructions to scared slave boys long ago,’ I teased, ‘and it seems I was successful, because he learned to read my thoughts!’ I took the goblet he’d filled for me and sipped it gratefully. Marcus would not have approved of it at all, I thought — Niveus had watered it too much for Roman tastes — but it suited me far better than if it had been strong. I sat down on the stool that the page had brought, and grinned at Junio. ‘And not just about the wine.’
My son returned my smile. He had poured another cupful for himself, and was drinking with a certain relish, I observed.
‘Reading your thoughts? You mean about your interest in that slave girl, after all?’ He laughed. ‘That did not require any special skill. It would have been obvious to anyone who knew you, I should think.’
I was quite affronted. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
His grin was broader now. ‘You do not like to leave a question unresolved, so naturally you would want to make a few enquiries about her if you could. Even Stygius could see as much, and that was before you told us the story of her life. When the chief steward came out with the tunic for the pyre and announced that Marcus now wanted the matter to be dropped, Stygius said-’ He stopped. ‘Great Minerva! That is something that had not occurred to me!’
‘What is?’ I enquired.
‘The tunic that Morella had! It could not have come from this household, I suppose? You know that Marcus had new ones made for all his slaves, so there must have been a number of discarded ones — including the one that we put on the corpse. They can’t all have been intended for use as cleaning cloths. Marcus is far too careful with his cash for that.’
That was perceptive and it made me laugh. ‘You are quite right, of course. Most of them were dyed for mourning and are being used again.’
‘Yet Pulchrus’s uniform was among the most expensive of all. Why consign that for rags?’
I frowned. ‘Because the colour was already bright and it would be more difficult to put the new dye over it? Gwellia would tell us — she understands these things. And the elaborate trimmings had all been taken off, so sparing it for the corpse was not wholly profligate. But Morella’s tunic. .?’ I thought about it for a moment and then shook my head. ‘I don’t think it is likely that it came from here. Most of the tunics of the household slaves are blue — though there are a few exceptions here and there. Minimus worked here, after all, and knows the colours of all the uniforms. I’m sure that he would have told me if it looked like one of theirs. However, I might speak to the steward, just in case. Niveus can fetch him. . ah, here he comes.’
But it was not Niveus who came bursting in, nor the steward either. It was Colaphus, his bull-face flushed with outrage and affronted dignity. ‘I am no longer wanted at the gates.’
‘Aulus has come back?’ I made the obvious deduction, and was surprised to discover that I was quite relieved.
Colaphus shook his head. ‘I would not have minded that so much,’ he muttered bitterly. ‘After all, it is his job, not mine. But there’s still no sign of him. Yet they have relieved me at the gate — put some fellow in my place who’s only half my size — and sent me in to do the work of that accursed page instead, greeting visitors and handing namby-pamby towels! I don’t know what my master Lucius will say when he finds out. But the steward is insisting. I was put at his disposal in the interim so he maintains he can use me in any way he likes. Oh, and I’m to give you a message too. There’s a man and two women asking for you at the gate.’