Then it came to payment. I’d agreed a fifth of an aureus, of course, and there was also the two sesterces that I already owed — but I had no coin smaller than an aureus itself, and I had fully expected to have to leave one here as a kind of surety for the animal. However Cantalarius reached down his tunic-neck and produced a leather purse that dangled on string, and to my amazement he unloosed the cord and solemnly counted out my change: a gold quinarius-aureus (or ‘half-aureus’ as he called it) and seven silver denarii, saying as he did so, ‘Seventy-eight sesterces, I believe that’s right?’
‘You borrowed all that from the money-lenders?’ I exclaimed. Suddenly my humble debt seemed insignificant.
He sighed. ‘An aureus — they would not lend me less, though I only needed a fraction of that sum.’
I nodded. ‘And it must be due by now.’ There’d been a rush, of course, and — unlike me — Cantalarius had no powerful patron to protect him, so the money-lenders could dictate their terms. ‘But if you get back today,’ I told him earnestly, ‘you can repay it all before the interest starts to mount too much. And maybe even have enough to buy a bit more feed — supposing that it’s still available. Though I suppose you’ll have to finish at the pyre before you go.’
‘Exactly what I hope that I’ll have time to do!’ He was already hurrying over to a stone store hut near the gate, and producing a pannier saddle which he and Minimus threw across the mule. ‘So you understand that I need to hurry back?’
I understood him better than he thought. I was in haste to reach the town myself, so I was glad to give a hand to tie the saddle on, and a few moments later I was on the creature’s back. ‘Do you think that she could take my slave as well?’ I murmured, as Minimus took the rope and prepared to lead us out on to the road.
‘I’d give her a minute to get used to you — but she’s the stronger one and she is used to taking loads.’ Cantalarius held the gate open to let us through.
‘Till the Ides, then — or sooner if the weather breaks!’ I called out cheerfully, as Minimus tugged the tether and we bounced out on to the road. The poor mule was so bony that I feared to break its back but it was walking willingly enough.
‘She’s called Arlina!’ Cantalarius shouted back. He closed the gate of the enclosure after us then turned and hurried off towards his pyre.
‘What makes you smile, Master?’ Minimus enquired, turning his head to look at me. Up to then he had been staring at the path, picking his way with care among the icy stones.
I grinned at him. ‘I was laughing at the name he gives the mule. The word means “oath” in Celtic, so it doesn’t promise well! Though she seems tractable enough while you are leading her. I wonder if she’d walk without the rope? Let it go a moment.’ I pressed my knees into the mule to urge it on.
In fact, I need not have been concerned. Arlina proved amenable enough in either mode — indeed she even seemed to know the way and, when we reached the junction where my roundhouse was, turned without the slightest prompting on our part towards the ancient track towards the town. It felt quite strange to ride straight past my home like that, but Gwellia glimpsed me and came running to the gate.
‘I’m glad to see you’ve got the mule!’ she called. ‘But don’t go taking any risks with it.’ She saw that Minimus had slowed the animal, and she shook her head at him. ‘Don’t stop now — you’ll only have to hurry later if you do, and it’s such a skinny creature it might not have the strength!’ She stood at the gatepost and waved us out of sight.
I was starting to have confidence in the animal by now and a little further on, where the road got steep and difficult and Minimus was beginning to slide and stumble on the ice, I paused and pulled him up to sit in front of me. To my delight the mule seemed wholly unconcerned, so we rode in this fashion until the town wall came into sight.
Of course I had nowhere to accommodate an animal at my shop (as I had said to Gwellia earlier) but one of the hiring stable owners just outside the southern gates was a man with whom I’d had dealings once or twice before. In this dreadful weather he was short of trade and he took Arlina willingly enough — though at a fee of course. So we left the creature, hungrily munching silage in a stall, while Minimus and I went hurrying into town.
It was well into the afternoon by now, and very cold indeed, and many of the forum stalls were starting to close down, including some of the money-lenders ranged around the wall. I sent Minimus away to light the workshop fire while I sought out the man I had borrowed from. I managed to catch him, but only just in time, just as he was gathering up his goods and preparing to depart.
He was a swarthy fellow, with small greedy eyes and a suspicious frown, and it was clear he was not altogether pleased to find me there. ‘Back to pay your loan off before it’s even due?’ he grumbled. ‘Trying to deprive me of my proper interest, I suppose.’
Nonetheless he sat down again, took my proffered aureus and (after I’d called upon a passing citizen to witness that I’d paid) tried it in his teeth, put it in his coffers and counted out the change. After the deductions it did not seem very much, and I was very glad that I had not been forced, like Cantalarius, to borrow more that I could possibly afford.
The thought persuaded me to say — in some vague hope of preventing the man from packing up and thus costing my neighbour interest for another day — ‘I may not be your last customer, even now. The citizen Cantalarius is hoping to arrive tonight and pay back what he owes.’
As soon as I had spoken, it occurred to me that my words were more likely to have the opposite effect and make the money-lender leave at once, but in fact he made no move at all — just looked up at me with a suspicious air. ‘Cantalarius? What has that to do with me?’
‘Perhaps you weren’t the one who lent to him?’ I murmured, foolishly.
The fellow shook his head. ‘Not me, citizen. I would not have lent him anything at all. And after that business in the temple, I don’t know who would! That man is obviously cursed.’ He spat on his finger and rubbed it on his ear, as if he needed to ward away ill-luck for simply having mentioned Cantalarius by name. ‘I wouldn’t even let his shadow fall upon my feet, for fear of his ill-fortune rubbing off on me.’
‘Because of what happened at the Agonalia sacrifice?’ I said, privately thinking that this attitude explained my neighbour’s troubles in obtaining loans. ‘But surely the offering to Janus has been safely made by now — and I happen to know that Cantalarius has made a cleansing ritual of his own.’
The money-lender stared. ‘But the trouble at the festival is only half of it.’ He saw that I was puzzled. ‘Don’t tell me that you don’t know what has happened now!’
‘I’m aware his last remaining land slave died today,’ I answered. ‘It’s most unfortunate. But there’s been a propitiation to the gods — even a donation to the temple here — and things should be better now.’
‘Who cares about a land slave?’ The fellow clambered to his feet and pulled his coloured head-dress closer round his face. He was shorter than I am, and he smelled of spice, but he leaned close to me and murmured in the direction of my ear, ‘It’s those missing Romans that have started all the talk. First that Genialis fellow-’
I interrupted him. ‘You heard that he was missing?’
He looked at me as though I were an idiot. ‘Well, hasn’t everyone? It’s no secret, citizen. Alfredus Allius was in the forum earlier, making a formal announcement to his creditors.’
‘Alfredus Allius!’ I exclaimed. There was another man I’d have to interview.
‘That’s right, citizen. He was a close associate of Genialis, it seems. In fact he lent him money, but the fellow disappeared — and no one else gets paid till he turns up again, alive or otherwise.’ His pig-like eyes were watery with mirth. ‘Most likely otherwise. Allius claims he has been missing for a day or two at least and now there is a search for him. Though I’ll wager that if they find him, they’ll find him dead.’