I think they had forgotten that I was there at all — which wasn’t very courteous to me, but in fact I did not mind. It was all information I could give to Marcus afterwards. So I was content to sit and listen and savour my warm mead, which was the best I’d ever tasted — delicately warmed and flavoured with sweet spice. I would have been ready to finish the whole jug.
However, it was not very long before the slave came back, saying that dinner was ready if we wished and Lucius led us through into another room. It was fairly Spartan, the floor and walls completely unadorned. The three small dining-couches around the table took almost all the space and the brazier in the corner gave off little heat — unless, like Alfredus, you were reclining next to it. However, we were provided with the usual courtesies — linen napkins, and the spotty slave to wash our hands and feet. He even offered us a spoon and dining knife, in case we were not carrying our own, and there was a small libation to the household Lars, brought in for the purpose in a little travelling box.
The meal was not by any means a feast, only two dishes other than the meat, and everything was very plainly served: though this, in fact, was rather to my taste. I was glad to see that garum — that fish sauce that Romans like to put on everything — was offered in a jug and not put on the serving-plate itself. Alfredus, I noticed, poured a lot on his.
As the senior guest, he was naturally on Lucius’s right, while I was on the left, so I had little opportunity to join the talk — and in fact for a long time, nothing much was said. But when we had moved on to dried berries, fruits and nuts, and the slaves had retired to clean the dinner-ware, Alfredus cleared his throat. ‘Lucius, there was something that I wanted to discuss, but perhaps …’ He jerked his head at me. ‘A little later, possibly, when your other guest has gone?’
I was about to offer to withdraw and give them privacy — after all I had that promise of the record scrolls, which answered what I’d come for — but Lucius straightened to a sitting pose (a signal that we two should do the same) and seized my arm again, saying heartily to his other guest, ‘You may speak freely. There are no strangers here. Libertus already knows about the loan I hope to get from you and why.’
Alfredus looked embarrassed. He took another handful of the nuts and cleared his throat. ‘Then I’ll confess it straightaway. I’ll have to disappoint you, I’m afraid — unless or until Genialis comes to light. You’ve heard that he owes me money, I expect? No doubt that’s common knowledge in the town.’
Lucius nodded. ‘Libertus heard it in the forum, I believe.’
Alfredus made a face. ‘I was obliged to make a shaming public statement at the basilica, in front of everyone, that I can’t pay my creditors. If Genialis were available I would simply delegate — pass the debts to him, as the law permits — there is no requirement that he should agree. But it seems he’s disappeared, and one cannot declare delegatio without the knowledge of the man involved — so I’ve simply had to ask for the customary length of time to pay.’
‘Thirty days? And that will be enough?’ Lucius sounded genuinely interested now.
‘By that time, I hope, I can sell my usual crops again — I’ve not been able to do so with the recent snow — and that should be sufficient to pay my creditors. But it doesn’t solve the problem of what Genialis owes to me. At present it is legally “impossible to pay” and so there is no immediate redress. If he’s dead I’ll have to sue from his estate, though that clearly won’t be possible within the thirty days.’ He gave a bitter smile. ‘Just as well they’ve done away with old-style punishments for defaulters, that’s all I can say.’
I remembered what Marcus had once told me about that. The ancient law provided that a man could chain his debtor up for the whole period — without the necessity of offering him food — and if the money was not paid in time, the creditors had the right, not just to seize his goods (as happened nowadays) but to share up his body in equitable parts.
‘When did you discover he was missing?’ Lucius asked. ‘We weren’t aware of it ourselves until a day or two ago.’
‘I expected to see him at the Agonalia feast — it was the day the debt was due and I thought he would have travelled back to keep the feast: he had intended to, he said, in fact he was furious when he could not provide the ram. I spoke to Bernadus — knowing that Genialis had been to stay with him.’ Alfredus tossed another shelled walnut down his throat and took a sip of wine. ‘He was surprised, himself. He said that Genialis ought to be in town: he had left the villa several days before, with instructions that his bride-to-be should follow him to town on the day of sacrifice, and she had done so — though she’d left a lot of her effects behind.’
‘He wasn’t here to meet her, though!’ Lucius said. ‘The doorkeeper hadn’t seen his master since the day he left.’
Alfredus frowned. ‘So I understand. I tried the house, myself. There was a special meeting of the curia — in relation to the proclamation of the new Emperor — so I couldn’t go at once, but as soon as it was over, I called there straight away. But the doorkeeper told me that his master hadn’t come and Silvia had been taken into temporary potestas by His Excellence. That was the moment I began to fear that I’d lost my money. And the gold is not among the things that were left behind at the villa. I went straight to Bernadus’s villa, the first thing next day, and he helped me institute a search, but …’ He trailed off helplessly. ‘The coffer was there, but it was emptied of its gold. It seems he’s simply vanished and the money too.’
‘Then perhaps he had it with him?’ I suggested, brightening. ‘Intending to repay you when he got to town. That might explain his disappearance, mightn’t it? If he were intercepted by some robber on the road and found to be carrying a lot of money it is more than possible that he was murdered for his purse.’
In fact this seemed an obvious theory, now I had thought of it, and the more I considered it, the likelier it seemed. Violence and robbery on the public road is a crucifying offence so victims of such crimes are more often killed than not — dead men cannot identify a thief. And it would fit with what Lucius and Adonisius thought as well — that he’d gone off in a hurry to meet a secret creditor. I only wondered that I had not thought of it before!
But Lucius was making a disbelieving face. ‘But surely thieves would just have dumped the corpse beside the road? That’s what they generally do. And I’ve never heard of any thief who didn’t try to seize the horse — especially a valuable animal like that — or at least the trappings, which are easier to sell. Yet when that horse was found, it still had its saddle on, although the reins were broken. What robber would do that? That saddle would bring a good price at any market stall.’
Alfredus had finished all the walnuts by this time and was eating almonds now. ‘And if Genialis were carrying a large amount of gold, wouldn’t he have had the casket with him too? Bernadus said he was carrying a purse, but that would not hold the amount of gold I lent to him. Besides,’ he added, ‘I don’t believe that he meant to pay me back. In that case, why did he want the loan at all? There was nothing whatever to spend it on while he was at the villa, and no opportunity of gaining extra funds. He was relying on some deal that he hoped to make, he said.’
There was some sense in all of this, but I did not give up without a fight. ‘Or perhaps Bernadus stole it, after his guests had left,’ I suggested doubtfully. ‘Such things have happened.’
Alfredus gave that mirthless smile again. ‘I don’t think so, pavement-maker. Bernadus had agreed to act as surety — so if that money’s missing, he must make it up himself. Only, since he is a sort of friend, I swore in the stipulatio that I would not sue until it was proved “impossible” for Genialis to repay — so there is no legal way that I can call on him for it just now.’ He turned to Lucius. ‘So you see why I cannot — at the moment — offer you the loan.’