‘A man and two women?’ I put down my cup and I looked at Junio, but he clearly was as mystified as I was. ‘Who are they?’
‘I didn’t ask them and I didn’t let them in. They don’t look the sort of people who should be calling here.’ Colaphus looked as prim and self-righteous as a battering ram can be. ‘I told them the household was in mourning, which they claimed they knew — though I don’t see how they could possibly have heard — but they would not take the hint and go away. They are clearly not people summoned to the feast, and the man, in particular, was not appropriately dressed to come into a household that was honouring its dead. They would’ve had to go through all that cleansing ritual. Besides, I understood that you were leaving very soon. I told them that they would have to wait for you out there. .’
I could not let this pass without rebuke. Even in a house of mourning it is not polite to keep a guest’s callers waiting outside in the lane. ‘One fewer lot of towels and ashes for you to deal with, too?’ I said. ‘You should thank Jove for these small mercies, I suppose.’
He shrugged his massive shoulders, but had the grace to flush.
I turned to Junio. ‘I’d better go and see them, whoever they might be. You stay here and wait for Niveus. And you can talk to the chief steward for me, if you like. About that matter we were speaking of a little while ago. There might be something useful he could tell us, I suppose — and if not we can at least eliminate the possibility you thought of.’
I was being deliberately elliptical, partly because Colaphus was clearly bursting to know what I was talking about and I was still annoyed by his discourtesy, but also because I suspected that anything he learned would get back to Lucius and my patron in a flash, and I did not wish to be forbidden to pursue enquiries. Marcus had told me to let matters rest about the corpse, but he had not mentioned the girl who owned the dress: a technicality I did not wish to have pointed out to him. So I simply gave the bodyguard my warmest smile and said, ‘Since you are standing in for Niveus for a while, perhaps you would be good enough to escort me to the gate.’
It did not please him but there was nothing he could do, and he led the way with ill-disguised bad grace. A little way short of the gatehouse cell he stopped and waved a vague finger in the direction of the road. ‘There you are, citizen. Exactly as I said. Not the sort of people I could lightly have let in, when the house is preparing for a memorial. Don’t even speak good Latin, most of them. Besides,’ he added, in half-apology, ‘the man has got a dog with him. I could not have let that in, in any case.’
A dog? A horrible suspicion was forming in my mind. But I could not imagine what Morella’s father could be doing at the villa gates, or why he wanted me — I was sure my comments about the murdered corpse had frightened him. Unless he’d found his daughter? I brightened. That was possible. Or, of course, this might not be Farathetos at all. Well, there was only one way to find out.
I dismissed my escort with a nod, and went on to the gates where one of Marcus’s larger garden slaves was standing with a spear. He was muscular enough but he looked sadly ill at ease, though he rushed eagerly to open up for me.
No sooner had I set foot out in the lane than I knew I’d been been correct. It was Morella’s father — I recognised the face, and even more certainly I recognised the dog. There was no mistaking it, in fact. It started barking and leaping up at me the instant I appeared and though its owner jerked it sharply back it went on snarling and growling in its throat. The creature seemed to have tolerated everybody else — I hadn’t heard it from inside the gate — but now it was straining at the rope leash round its neck and making snapping motions in the direction of my knees.
I glanced towards the hooded females who were standing by — just long enough to take in that they were older women, not the missing girl — but as soon as I diverted my full attention from the dog the creature made a sudden lunge at me. It took me by surprise. I am usually very fond of dogs — in my youth I had several hounds myself — but this one seemed to share its master’s malice towards the world.
‘Down!’ I said sharply, and it skulked and bared its teeth.
I kept my eyes fixed firmly on it as I addressed the man. ‘Farathetos! I hear you wanted me?’
He answered me in Latin. ‘That’s right, citizen. I want a word with you. Alone if possible!’ He jerked a scornful head towards the women as he spoke. ‘This is men’s business, not for women’s ears.’
Then, to my astonishment, a familiar voice broke in. ‘This gentleman came asking for you at the roundhouse, husband. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but says he is the father of the missing girl. I knew that you were anxious for any news of her, so naturally I brought him here at once.’
I whirled to face her, taking my eyes off the dog again. ‘Gwellia!’ It was indeed my wife. I almost went towards her, but a growl prevented me.
She gave me an understanding smile. ‘I am sorry if we have disturbed you at an awkward time. I told this fellow what Cilla had earlier told me — that the villa was in mourning and that you were required to stand in for Marcus at the cremation of a slave — but he was insistent that he’d discovered something that you’d want to know, and was not content to simply leave a message at the house.’
The farmer scowled. ‘Can’t even speak in Latin now and not be listened to! But she’s quite right, citizen. This is not for anyone else’s ears but yours.’
‘As he says, husband,’ Gwellia went on in her sweetest tone, ‘he wished to speak to you himself. I reasoned that a slave funeral would not take very long. So, seeing that I was known to all the servants here, and I was planning to come anyway, I suggested that I would accompany him and ask the gatekeeper to have you found and brought to us.’
Farathetos spat impatiently. ‘And what a waste of time! I would have done better to have come and asked myself.’
I braved the dog this time, and crossed to Gwellia. ‘I’m sorry you had such a discourteous greeting here.’ I took her hand and pressed it.
She smiled up at me. ‘I didn’t know the man on duty at the time. And it was mutual!’ She nodded towards the gatehouse. ‘What has happened to Aulus, anyway?’
I shook my head. ‘That’s another problem: no one seems to know, though Marcus does not seem to take it very seriously yet. I’ll tell you later. You go on inside — Junio is there. We were going to go back to the roundhouse to see you very soon, but there is no need since you have come to us. Perhaps you would let the pageboy know he won’t be needed now.’
She nodded. ‘But I think we should go back home in any case. You will want to get ready for the feast tonight. I was only anxious to see that you were well. But since I’ve come, I’ll go and pay Julia my respects and offer the household my condolences. I will see you when you have finished here. Meanwhile your toga-hood’s in disarray.’ She reached up, as if to put it right, and as she did so she whispered in my ear, ‘There may be things that I can help you with. I have had an interesting conversation with the wife.’ Then she turned and went in through the gate, which opened instantly to let her pass.
Chapter Nineteen
I gazed after Gwellia’s retreating form. She had spoken of ‘the wife’. I looked across at the other hooded figure in the road, and there was Morella’s mother standing patiently by. I had been so busy with the dog, and then with Gwellia, I hadn’t realised who she was.
She saw me looking and raised her face to me, gave me a brief, abject, snaggled smile, and dropped her eyes again. Of course, she would not have followed much that had been said — we had been speaking in a tongue she didn’t understand. I turned to face the man and the still grumbling dog.