‘I had supposed that with the cold snap you might be short of stock,’ I said inanely.
He shook his head and gave a little sigh. ‘Unfortunately, it is quite the opposite. Most of this stuff is orders — already spoken for — and simply waiting to be sent on to purchasers: but of course there hasn’t been the transport, with the snow. The potted snails and dormice and the wine and oil will be all right, of course, but some of the other things are suffering a bit.’
‘Like these?’ I gestured to an area where a deep pile of heaped-up snow — obviously brought in from out-of-doors — had been compacted to a solid mass, which was now melting slightly, revealing sacks beneath, while the water formed a little puddle on the floor.
He gave a ghastly grin. ‘A trick I learned from traders from the north. In winter they store their roe-deer venison that way, so I was hopeful that it might have worked for me. But now I’m not so sure. I don’t often deal with perishable goods — and this, I fear, is going to start to rot and I shall have to throw it in the river at a total loss. But for other things, the cold has had the opposite effect. There’s a consignment of pigments over there which has frozen in its sacks and I don’t know if it will still be usable.’ He led me to the place. ‘Fortunately, I never deal in slaves or animals, or anything that needs attention while you’re storing it, but as I was saying to Marcus earlier today, if I can’t get some things delivered in a day or two, I stand to lose my profit, if not my customers.’
‘But you do handle perishables now and then?’ I said, a little doubtfully. ‘You mentioned that we were dining on Gallic fowl, I think?’ I hoped our meal had not come from the sacks that we’d just passed. There was a faint unpleasant odour there, despite the ice, and I was glad to have moved onwards down the aisle, where the air was heady with cinnamon and other Eastern spice.
Lucius must have seen my dubious look and laughed aloud. ‘Quite fresh, I assure you, citizen. One of the first consignments to get here for some time — bigger ships can’t get this far up the river when there’s ice. The trade-captain had attempted to bring them here alive, three dozen crates of birds and several pigs, though most of the creatures had perished in the cold. Normally we would have taken all of those — exotic fowl-meat has a value anywhere — but as you see, at present …’ He used the torch to gesture round the room.
‘You have no room to store the birds?’ I supplied.
‘Exactly, citizen. My stewards took some living ones for me to use myself, but the trader had to sell the others in the town for whatever he could get — which won’t be much, I think. The pork will do all right, but there is not much sustenance in a Gallic fowl and when food is scarce and dear, people will buy other things for preference.’
‘But you agreed to have them anyway?’
He did that laugh again. ‘Ah, but now he’ll take my sheepskins and some wood when he sails for Gaul — I’ve been waiting half a moon to find a boat to carry them — so we both stand to profit from the deal. Trade is a funny business.’ He gestured to his spotty servant, who was sulking close nearby. ‘The office door please, Pistus, and then you can let the household know that we are here.’
We had walked the whole length of the storage space by now and had reached a large partition wall which had two doors in it. One of these the servant Pistus was now folding back, revealing what was clearly the office area, containing a desk-table and a pair of stools, and book shelves full of scrolls and parchment-leaves. An ancient slave was seated at the desk, binding a new iron nib on to a writing stick. An oil lamp stood by him, but it was not lit and he was working by the fading daylight through the open window space high up on the wall.
He looked up and saw us, and made as if to rise, but Lucius waved him to continue with his work. ‘When you’ve finished that pen, Vesperion, you can shut up for the night. Put up the shutters and I’ll send in your meal.’ He turned to me. ‘That is my steward. Been with me for years — I’ll let him have his freedom, if this deal comes off, though I expect he’ll want to stay and work here as a freeman if he can. I’d be glad to have him for a year or two. I give him a sleeping mat down there beside the door and he acts as a sort of watchman for the goods — can’t be too careful, though my neighbours and I share the cost to keep a burly guard outside at night.’ He smiled. ‘Now, if you would like to come this way?’
He led the way in through the other, smaller door, through which the spotty slave had already disappeared, and which opened on to a little corridor and so into the house. I was pleasantly surprised by what awaited us.
I found myself in a spacious inner area. It had only one high window space, like the office next to it, but was lit by a dozen tapers in stanchions on the wall, and agreeably heated by a brazier at each end. It was not a fancy room. The floor was paved in simple kiln-fired brick, the plaster on the walls was painted plain ochre with a border of black lines, and there was not an ornament in sight, only a little niche with a statue of the Lars. The only furniture was a rustic table bench and a pair of rather crudely crafted wooden stools — yet the effect, though basic, was warm and welcoming.
Lucius placed his torch carefully into an empty sconce, took my cloak, then indicated the nearer of the stools and sat down on the other one himself. He clapped his hands and the pimply slave appeared through an inner doorway opposite. ‘Take these cloaks away and put them somewhere dry. Have warm spiced mead and sugared figs brought in, and then leave us to talk.’
The servant bowed and went away, but left the door ajar. Through the aperture I could see another passageway, obviously leading to further doors beyond. It was clear now that my guess about the house had been correct. There were several rooms on this floor and there was evidence of at least one more above. I could hear something — or someone — hurrying around up there, then the rattle of quick footsteps down what sounded like a stair. A moment later Adonisius came into the room.
He seemed about to speak to Lucius, but when he saw me he stopped in some surprise. ‘Excuse me, masters, I had not intended to intrude. I did not know that you had company.’
Lucius smiled. ‘Libertus has consented to come and dine with me. But I am glad to see you anyway. You can give him the latest news direct — though I’ve already told him that no trace has been found. I presume that nothing’s happened since I last spoke to you?’ He turned to me. ‘Adonisius has been assisting with the search. Indeed, we have placed him virtually in charge — no one knows Genialis more thoroughly than he does — and Silvia has kindly made him available as long as he’s required.’
‘Of course, he is formally at her disposal now,’ I said, remembering.
Lucius nodded. ‘At least until his master’s body’s found.’ He smiled. ‘And he has already proved his worth. After all he was the one who found the horse!’
I looked at the Syrian, who was wearing a proud smile — which in a man less attractive, might have been a smirk, but on Adonisius simply added to his charm. ‘You heard about that, citizen?’ His tone to me was soft and courteous. If Silvia decided to sell him later on, I thought, he would command a price as handsome as himself. ‘I searched for the body for a long time, then, but could not find the slightest trace of that,’ he said. ‘Though Bernadus was extremely pleased to have the horse.’
Lucius barked with laughter. ‘Pleased enough to let you keep the one he’d lent to you — until this search is over, anyway.’ He jerked his head at Adonisius and said, addressing me, ‘Of course, there is no risk. This slave is a considerable horseman, citizen. Genialis used him as a mounted page.’ He raised a brow at me. ‘Among other things, I understand.’
I ignored the innuendo. ‘And yet Genialis set off riding on his own, when he left the villa? That was a little strange?’