‘Except for the desecration of the Imperial shrine?’ I said. ‘Surely that will have to be pursued? Commodus was, after all, officially a god. In fact unlike his predecessors in the post, he hadn’t even waited to be dead: he’d declared himself a deity while he was still alive.’
Another massive shrug. ‘The culprits will be sought and punished, I suppose.’ He gave a sly, most un-temple-slave-like grin. ‘Though if he’s really an Immortal, he may avenge himself. In the meantime no doubt you’re right. The priests will have to make oblations to purify that shrine — and almost certainly they will require me to help. So I will leave you now. I will see your plaque is made and offered to the goddess, as soon as the stalls are open after dawn. Will you be safe returning to your house?’
I nodded. ‘I have an attendant down there in the square.’ I gestured in the direction of the bucket-chain, who — urged to their best efforts by threats and baton-strokes — had more or less put out the blaze by now. There was a pile of embers still smouldering in the dark, while charred and broken furniture and bits of statuary could be made out here and there. The forum would require hours of clearing up but there was no longer any risk of the fire spreading elsewhere in the town. ‘I think the fire fighters are about to be dismissed. Though I don’t know what has happened to our torch.’
The giant nodded. ‘Take this one with you! You can repay the temple for it next time that you come. I will look out for you!’ He unhooked the pitch-torch from the stanchion in the portico, and handed it to me.
Holding the light aloft, I thanked him heartily and picked my way with care through the scattered debris on the steps and down towards my borrowed servant, now waiting in the square.
NINETEEN
By the time we reached my workshop it was very late indeed. It had taken us a little time to get past the sentry at the northern gate — there was a warning out to apprehend anyone suspected of being rioters — and I felt that we were lucky to escape without finding ourselves locked up in the prison overnight.
Minimus had evidently been sitting up on watch, waiting to hear me come, and almost before I had time to knock the door, he had come out to unlock it and was ushering us in. He was quite reproachful as he took my cloak, more so than his status would properly allow.
‘Master!’ he cried. ‘I have been terribly alarmed. I went out to close the shutters and I saw the smoke, and then a pie-seller went by and told me that there was a fire and people had been injured in a riot. I dared not leave the shop to look for you, but I was getting anxious that you had not come. I feared you had been hurt.’
Adonisius was looking rather scandalized at this familiarity, so I said hastily, ‘Thank you, Minimus, for your kind concern. The fire delayed us, but we are unscathed. However this poor slave, who was escorting me, was coerced into carrying buckets for an hour to quench the blaze. I’m sure we could find him something warm to drink before we send him home?’
Minimus looked flattered by the ‘we’. ‘I’ve got some hot mead, Master. It was awaiting your return.’ He led the way into the inner shop, where a cheerful blaze was crackling in the hearth and the smoke of several candles hung thickly in the air. The smell of hot spiced mead was rising from a pot beside the fire and a sleeping blanket had been set out on the floor for me. Never had my workshop seemed more welcoming.
Adonisius seemed to think so, too. When Minimus had brought out an extra stool and drinking bowl for him, and he was sitting by the fire sipping the hot, sweet liquid gratefully, he cast an approving glance around the room.
‘When I get my freedom, this is what I’d like. A little cosy place to call my own, where I could earn a living and sleep snug and warm at night. Perhaps, in time, I could even have a slave to wait on me.’ He smiled to show that this was not said bitterly.
‘You have a trade?’ I asked him. Most freed slaves don’t dream of being shopkeepers.
‘I could be an amanuensis or a clerk, perhaps. I can read and write and use an abacus. It’s one of the things that Genialis bought me for. Though in the end he rarely called on me for that. I have some skill with horses and he preferred to have me ride as escort everywhere.’
‘I thought that chiefly you were his personal slave,’ I said.
He stared into his mead as if he did not wish to meet my eyes. ‘After a fashion, citizen. Several of us used to help him wash and dress, but I had special extra duties, as I expect you’ve heard, since he made no secret of the fact. Duties which I hated — but of course I had no choice. I shouldn’t expect to make a living out of that.’
Now it was my turn to stare into my cup, heartily wishing I’d never raised the subject of what his skills might be. I’ve never shared the Romans’ casual attitude to having sexual pets. ‘You expect to get your freedom very soon?’ I said, anxious to turn the talk to something else.
A delighted smile lit the handsome face. ‘At least I now believe that it is possible. Genialis used to promise all the time, but every time I saved my slave price he’d increase the sum — saying I’d grown in value and would cost more to replace. But now Silvia and Lucius have sworn that I’ll be freed, as soon as his estate is sorted out. I was publicly assigned to Silvia while my master was alive, so I will pass to her — and she’ll let me purchase freedom, at a price we have agreed.’
‘Assuming Genialis turns out to be dead,’ I pointed out.
He gave a rueful laugh. ‘Of course — although at this stage that is probable, I think. It’s been too long for him to have been sheltering anywhere, and a man can’t live for long out in the open in the snow.’ He drained the cup and put the vessel down. ‘However, the search for him will be continuing at dawn and I believe I’m taking part. If I don’t hurry home, I shall get no sleep at all. Thank you for your hospitality.’ He nodded at Minimus. ‘And I admire your slave — perhaps someday, when I acquire the means, we might discuss a price?’
I cocked an eye at him, raising my drinking vessel in salute. ‘I hope you find a slave that pleases you, but I’m afraid that Minimus is not for sale. Not at any time.’ I realized that I’d sounded rather sharp and softened my blank refusal with a grin. ‘Where would I find another slave who knows my eccentricities so well?’
Minimus, of course, had been listening throughout and he was grinning like a toad as he took a taper from the bench and led the visitor outside. I heard him bolt the outer door, but by the time that he’d returned I had finished off my mead and was preparing to curl up on my blanket on the floor.
‘Thank you, Master, for what you said just now! It’s pleasing, of course, to think he wanted me, but I’d hate you to sell me to anybody else!’ he murmured, setting the candle on the bench again and kneeling to remove the sandals from my feet.
‘Well blow out the light, then, before I change my mind!’ I said gruffly, and he did as he was told, leaving merely the warm glow of the fire as he settled down himself.
Whether it was the excitement of the day or simply the effects of too much mead, I cannot say, but despite the hardness of the floor I slipped at once into oblivion. In fact I slept so soundly that I knew nothing more until I raised my head and realized that there was a tapping at the door.
I half-raised myself to instruct Minimus to answer it, but found that he was no longer lying at my side. In fact, he must have risen quite a time ago. He had already poked the fire into life and taken down the shutters at the window space, which were letting in the cold grey light of dawn. I struggled to my feet and called his name aloud.