I nodded. ‘So you thought of the feast?’
‘My wife insisted on my pleading with the temple priests and — perhaps because she made me promise what little gold we had, the remnant of her dowry, as an additional donation to the gods — I managed to convince them that I could send a ram, and now I can’t supply one from my flock. It has to be a spotless one, of course, delivered to the temple in advance, and I had picked out my best — but it’s proving quite impossible to get it here alive. The poor thing’s half-dying of starvation anyway, since we’ve run out of feed, so it would likely have been rejected by the augurers.’
No wonder he was worried. This was a serious matter — quite apart from the humiliation of it all — failing to fulfil a public vow was an offence in law. ‘And the temple can’t provide one for you?’ I enquired. Generally they keep a few creatures in reserve, in case there is some problem with the entrails of a sacrificial animal in which event a second offering would be required.
He shook his head. ‘It’s been the same for them — nobody can get their animals to town. I did contrive to get one from the army in the end: they’ve cleared the road out to the territorium — the military farm — so that they can bring supplies in for the garrison and they’ve managed to find one that was acceptable.’ He dropped his voice so only I could hear. ‘A yearling ram. It’s not as good as mine was, but at least it means that I am not publically disgraced. Though the army wanted such a price for it, I’m going to be obliged to borrow money from the usurers, I think.’
I made a sympathetic noise. ‘I have been forced to the money-lenders too. With the rising price of food, they’ve done a roaring trade. They’re probably the only people in the town to benefit from snow.’
He made a helpless gesture with his hands. ‘But how am I to pay them back? That’s what I cannot see. I can’t even afford to provide another ram to ensure a substitute — though I gather that someone else has seen to that. Ironic, isn’t it? That sheep-offering was intended to improve my luck! And what was the result? The priests have all my money and I’ll be deep in debt, while this — ’ he waved a withered leek towards the mules — ‘is all that’s left for us to sell — unless we sell ourselves to slavery.’
‘Well, I’ll take one of these.’ I selected the least damaged of his cabbages — Minimus could boil it later with some herbs — and offered him a coin, far more than the wretched thing was worth. He took it, with a sigh. ‘Thank you, citizen, every quadrans helps.’
‘Then perhaps I can assist you further, Cantalarius!’ I said. ‘I see you’ve brought your mules. When your panniers are empty they could take a different load. Can you take a slave back with you, when you’ve finished here?’ I gestured towards Maximus who was standing by the cart. ‘Get my servant home and I’ll pay you handsomely!’
He looked at me distrustfully. ‘And find you holding me liable for his slave price if he should freeze to death before I got him there? And that’s just what would happen, the way Fortune’s treating me. I think not, citizen. Why do you want to send the boy back anyway? You seem to be managing quite comfortably here.’
‘I want him to take a message to my wife — she has not seen or heard from us since New Year’s Day.’ A thought occurred to me. ‘Or perhaps you could consent to take her word yourself?’
He brightened suddenly. ‘I’m sure that could be managed, citizen. After all, I’m passing quite close to your door. Though it will cost, of course. The military route is passable with care — they’re putting salty sand on it to melt the ice — but the minor roads are still extremely treacherous, even for a mule. And no doubt it will soon come on to freeze again. I’ve nearly finished here. How long will it take you to get a note to me?’
I made a swift decision. ‘Forget about the note.’ I knew I had a wax-tablet in the shop, but fetching it would take a little time. ‘Just call in at the house. Tell my wife you’ve seen me and we are all safe and well. We have had a commission for a pavement, which we have fulfilled, so we’ve enough to eat — ’ no need to worry Gwellia with news that I’d been borrowing — ‘and we’ll come home as soon as ever we can walk the track. Or at least, the others will. I may have to stay here till after the Janus festival.’
He bowed his comprehension. ‘I think you suggested that I would get a fee?’
‘My wife will see to that.’ It was usual for the recipient to pay — a guarantee that the message would arrive. ‘Shall we say two sesterces?’ It was more than generous, but I was desperate.
He gave me a doubtful look. ‘A half denarius? Oh, come on, citizen. She won’t believe me if I tell her you’ve agreed to that.’
‘Tell her I said to give you the money from the onion-pot.’ There were a couple of sestertius coins in there the last time that I looked — saving for a pair of sandals for the household slaves. ‘That way she’ll know that your request is genuine — and if she won’t produce it, I’ll pay another time.’ I gestured to the little clutch of waiting customers. ‘I’m prepared to swear to that before these witnesses.’
Cantalarius allowed himself a rueful smile. ‘Then I’ll trust you, citizen. But don’t blame me if something happens on the way and the message doesn’t get there. It would be typical. I’m beginning to believe that I am genuinely cursed. Otherwise I’ll see you at the Festival — supposing that I manage to get back here with the mules.’
I nodded. As donor of the sacrifice he would be invited to the rostrum with the priests. ‘Then I’ll look out for you at the Agonalia,’ I said. ‘Let’s just trust that the soothsayer was right and that your blood-offering brings you better luck.’
‘Great Mars, I hope so!’ he replied. ‘Things cannot well get worse. Enjoy your cabbage!’ And he turned away to sell his other wares.
I went back to where Junio and Maximus were waiting with the cart: blowing on their fingers and stamping their feet to drive away the chill. I explained what I’d been doing for so long. ‘At least I’ve managed to arrange to get a message home,’ I said. ‘And we have got some cabbage for the pot. So now all that remains for us to do is to go back to the workshop and keep warm — until it’s time to go to the temple and find our witnesses.’
The day of the Janus Agonalia dawned damp and wet — always a bad omen for an outdoor festival — but it least it brought the promise of reopened roads as the rain began to turn the frozen snow to slush. I was beginning to wonder if Genialis would manage to return and witness the completion of the pavement after all, but when I reached the sanctuary there was no sign of him.
In Rome there is a famous temple to the dual-faced deity, but in Glevum Janus has no building of his own and the annual Festival was held at the Capitoline shrine, where there was a little altar set up near the cella of the goddess Juno. Of course there were niches in the gateways to the town where travellers could make small personal offerings and prayers, but for the big occasion the large temple was required — and this year it was packed to near-capacity. Perhaps it was because the weather had been so severe since New Year’s Day, and the citizens were anxious to propitiate the god and obtain a better outlook for the remainder of the year.
Whatever the reason, it was hard to get a place and after we had left the slaves to wait outside, Juno and I found ourselves standing almost at the rear. This made it rather difficult to hear, but potentially easier to scan the crowd for our two witnesses. Everyone was huddled up in woollen cloaks against the cold, of course, but only the sacrificing priest would wear a hood, so our men’s faces would be clearly visible.
However, I could not see them for the press of citizens and after a few moments Junio — with the advantages of youth — climbed up on a column-base to get a better view. He earned himself some disapproving stares but he ignored them and looked steadily around.