I was already looking, in horror and surprise, though there wasn’t much to see. Even the little shops across the lane were hardly visible. The air between was thick with swirling flakes and a deepening white carpet covered everything.
Minimus looked doubtfully at me. ‘What do you think, master?’
I shook my head. ‘We can’t go home today!’
‘Thank Mercury!’ The boy looked quite relieved. ‘I hate the forest at this time of the year. I am afraid of wolves.’
I understood his feelings. Walking the ancient unfrequented woodland track was treacherous in winter, anyway — rain always turned it slippery with mud — but cold increased the danger of marauding animals, driven by hunger nearer to the towns. To go that way in this would be inviting accidents.
‘We’ll simply have to sleep here overnight,’ I said. ‘If this has gone tomorrow, we will try to go home then. Though it looks as if we might be stuck here for a day or two.’ I glanced at Junio. ‘We might make a start on that pavement, I suppose. I must say I feel rather sorry for our wives.’
He nodded. ‘They’ll obviously be worried, because they won’t know where we are. But there’s no help for it. There’s no way of sending word. And they would not want us to set off in this. We’ll just have to stay here until the weather clears.’
Maximus — who, despite his name was the smaller of my slaves — edged up to me and cleared his throat, as a signal that he wished to speak. I did not insist on such formality, but after the recent pranks at Saturnalia — when slaves and owners change roles for a day — he was being specially careful to show me due respect.
I nodded my permission. ‘What is it, Maximus?’
‘I’m sorry, master, but I’m a bit concerned. I don’t know how we’re going to make a fire. We’ve just thrown water on the embers to make sure that they were out and there isn’t any flint or tinder left. And there won’t be anything to eat, unless we go out to the thermopolium. We’ve finished all the bread and cheese we brought, and there are no pie-sellers likely to be out in this.’ He shook his head. ‘Even the hot-soup stalls are likely to be closed. No one who can help it will go out on the streets — one slip and you could break an arm or leg and end up maimed for life.’
‘He’s right,’ my son agreed. ‘Though perhaps it’s no great loss. The stuff they sell is disgusting anyway: turnips and nasty bits of bone and hoof.’ He looked enquiringly at me. ‘But if they are open, it would at least be warm — if you think the chance of that is worth a struggle through the snow. The workshop will be very cold without a fire.’ He brightened. ‘Although I see there’s wood and kindling on the pile. I’ve seen that servant, Brianus, that you gave to me last year, using a sort of bow and string to bore into a stick and make a flame. I’ve watched him do it — I could try my hand at that.’
I grinned. ‘I’ve thought of a better strategy,’ I said. ‘Let’s pay a New Year’s visit to the tanner after all. He keeps a furnace burning all the time, brewing up the cutch to tan the skins — I’m sure he could be persuaded to let us have some fire, if only in honour of the day.’
Junio laughed, though rather doubtfully. ‘Father, are you sure? His wife has not forgiven you for costing her that slave.’
I grinned. ‘And isn’t this the day for healing rifts?’ I asked. ‘In any case, we’ve much to gain and nothing much to lose. So let’s untie these ugly rags from round our feet and try to look like the Roman citizens we are. We’ll make a formal visit, with the slaves escorting us — that way I’m sure the man will let us in and Minimus and Maximus will be admitted too, to wait where it is warm. Just bring those sugared figs the steward brought to us and keep a Kalends smile fixed on your face.’
So away we trooped to knock upon the gate. The tanner himself came grumbling out to open it, holding a lighted taper to peer into the snow. But when he realized who it was, his manner changed at once. Perhaps it was the togas, but we were welcomed in at once, and plied with heated wine. Even the hard-faced wife contrived a smile, though she left us men to it and went back to her tasks.
I managed to bring the talk around to Ulpius, but the tanner had no real information to impart — except that he was not inclined to blame the wine. ‘Ulpius was never one to drink too much, especially at sea. More likely it was just the movement of the deck. The weather in autumn can be terrible. And it wouldn’t have been carelessness; he knew the job too well. Freak accident, that’s all. The ship turned back of course, but it was far too late, and Ulpius had disappeared beneath the waves. They thought the body might be washed up in the end — so it could be given proper burial — but it never did. Eaten by the fishes I suppose. But the trading has gone on — they sold all my skins, and I’ve been paid for them. Ulpius’s junior partner saw to that.’
‘There is a partner?’ I hadn’t heard of this.
‘Oh, indeed. A pleasant man, though not a citizen. Started life as a freeman-forester and dealt with Ulpius over timber and the like, but he always had a natural aptitude for trade, and Ulpius took him on. Lucius proved to have a splendid eye for general goods, and they formed a partnership. Now, of course, he’s running things alone. I got this wine from him, for instance. It is very good. Can I offer you another drink of it?’
A half-hour later, when we went back to the shop — fighting our way now through a rising blizzard on the street — we brought away not only a hearty New Year gift of honey cake, but a heap of hot embers burning in a pail.
The two young slave boys set to with a will and soon had a cheerful blaze alight again and a couple of tapers burning to give a welcome light — the afternoon was dark though it was not long past midday. With the warmth, however, I felt my spirits lift. We had a pan, and my favourite spiced mead that we could heat in it, and now we had the honey cake to ward off hunger pangs, so with our cloaks to sleep on we would do well enough — at least until the morning when the street-hawkers began and we could purchase bread and milk again.
I looked at Junio. ‘Well, it seems that after all there is no mystery to solve, but shall we have a quick look through those patterns while we’re waiting here, and try to find something suitable for that entrance hall? I can’t recall exactly the dimensions we require, but we could estimate within a hand’s breadth either way.’
Junio nodded. ‘Best err on the slightly smaller side,’ he said. ‘Then it would be easy to fit a border round.’ He picked up a lighted taper. ‘Let’s go and have a look.’
The half-dozen premade ‘patterns’ which I kept to advertise my skills were versions of my most popular designs, stuck to a linen backing and placed on wooden boards, so they could be moved intact and shown to customers. Most clients used them simply as a guide and ordered something individual — but it was possible to install the samples exactly as they were.
Junio held up the candle to illuminate the rack while I pulled out my favourites, but he shook his head. ‘Remember, we’re being paid a fixed amount for this, and we’ll have to make another version to replace the one we use. If there is nothing to be learned by lingering at the house, it’s obviously sensible to choose the simplest piece — something that will be quick and easy to repeat.’
He was right of course and it did not take us long to settle on an appropriate design: a pattern of triangles around a central square, in which was depicted an inoffensive flower.
‘There we are!’ I said triumphantly. ‘Put a border round this and you could lay it anywhere. Starting tomorrow, if this weather clears a bit and it still isn’t possible for us to get back home. Though it will be quite a tramp to Ulpius’s house — or Silvia’s house, as I suppose that I should call it now. If I recall correctly, it’s over by the river on the other side of town.’
Junio looked doubtful. ‘I expect the streets are clearer once you’re inside the wall.’