‘The adorable Puff?’
‘So lovely! During the party, Puff was attacked by that other hound, the rough one from Polycarpus’ house.’
‘Panther.’
‘You seem very familiar with the pets here, Albia.’
‘I think I like the pets more than the people … Don’t say Panther was shagging Puff, or making an attempt?’
‘No, he seemed bad-tempered because Puff had nadgered him.’
‘Well, if Puff came up and sniffed his rear too intimately, Panther would growl a warning, which Puff would not hear because Puff is stone deaf …’
‘Cue dogfight.’ Gratus sighed wearily. ‘Luckily I had spied out the fire-buckets. There were lamps everywhere. I don’t know what dangerous fool had decorated the place. If the master and mistress had been discovered in bed burnt to a smoking cinder, that would have been more likely than what really happened — not to speak disrespectfully … Anyway, I flung open the well in the courtyard, cast a bucket of water over the fighting pooches, then they sat down together, all bedraggled and licking up the puddles.’
‘What was Panther doing down here?’
‘That boy had him. The boy was supposed to help wash up. He was useless.’
‘I could have guessed. Why wasn’t Chrysodorus looking after Puff, as he is meant to?’
‘He sloped off when the dogfight started.’
‘All right. Anyone else sniff someone a little too closely?’
‘No, that is all I noticed. It was quite enough.’
‘Yes, poor you!’
Once Gratus set off rolling, he was good value and enjoyed himself. One vital thing he now told me was that apart from Amaranta and Libycus who had intimate duties that nobody else was trusted with, several slaves kept in Rome believed they were about to be sent to the slave market for their past behaviour. The household was to be rationalised as Aviola and Mucia merged their staffs. Trouble-makers were for it. So far, no one had named the ones to go, which caused more uncertainty and stroppiness. But it was known that when the transport for Campania came next morning, Polycarpus had orders to keep some here and send them off to a big sale later this week.
‘He made no mention of that to me,’ I said.
‘He didn’t like having to do it,’ replied Gratus. ‘Polycarpus had a lot of loyalty to his staff. He would never show any annoyance with his master, but I know he thought it was his job to knock them into better shape and he ought to have been given a chance to do it.’
‘Do you agree with that?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
‘So was there bad feeling between Polycarpus and his master?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘But he was siding with the disgruntled slaves?’
‘It was his own fault they were disgruntled. He should never have let them find out in advance that some were to go,’ said Gratus. ‘He needed them that evening. He thought he was being kind and honest, giving them a warning.’
‘But it made no sense to have them all stirred up?’
‘No.’ Gratus shook his head. ‘You can imagine the rumours. The ones who thought themselves safe were gloating, and others were very distressed.’
Unnoticed by us at first, Gratus and I were being closely observed by another difficult slave. Myla had been hovering near us, in that nosy way of hers. As soon as she saw me looking at her, she edged away.
To my surprise, she then suddenly marched across the courtyard. I had never seen her move with so much determination. She went straight to where Galla Simplicia, her cousin and son were talking in a small group, interrupting them in such a rude way that Gratus sucked his breath sharply through his teeth. ‘That’s not acceptable!’
Myla addressed Sextus Simplicius. ‘Am I to be sent to that sale next week?’ she demanded loudly.
Simplicius looked flustered but he answered coolly, ‘It will be sooner than next week. As Valerius Aviola’s executor I can say that all the slaves whose freedom has not been specifically given in his will by their kind master will be going to market, yes indeed.’
Myla had gone red. Her next target was Aviola’s son: ‘You know that’s wrong! You know that was not what your father wanted!’
‘A decision had been made,’ Valerius said quickly, more positive than I had ever seen him.
‘I deserve better than this!’
‘You have always had good treatment.’
‘I was made promises.’
‘I think not. You must accept what has to be.’
‘Oh, young master, you have a kind heart — save me!’
‘No,’ said Valerius. Unable to bear her begging, he turned and walked away.
‘I have a child! What about the child?’ wailed Myla.
‘Do not worry about your offspring!’ Galla Simplicia blocked Myla from following her son. Her voice, normally so light in timbre, became hard: ‘It is not wanted in this household. You shall go together, mother and baby − “Buy one, get one free”.’
Beside me, Gratus gulped. I cringed too. ‘Galla was winning me over today, but that was a cruel put down!’
Gratus turned to me with an odd look. ‘Has anybody told you about her?’
‘Galla Simplicia?’
‘No, the slave woman.’
I mimicked the regular comment around here: ‘Oh, she’s just Myla!’
There was a moment of stillness. I gazed at the steward. He raised his eyebrows expressively, then also shrugged his shoulders in that elegant way he had.
‘I see there is a story. Please tell me?’
‘I could not possibly comment,’ replied Gratus.
‘Oh no! You cannot leave it there, Gratus. I know how things work. There is nothing to single out that slave as special, certainly not diligence at work. Yet normal household management is never applied to her. She herself implies she is untouchable. She does what she likes — normally very little. Polycarpus, though a good steward, use to let her get away with it.’
‘So what does that tell you?’ Gratus whispered secretively.
‘She had a protector. One who cannot protect her any longer.’ I gave Gratus a long look, then put a theory to him. ‘Try this: was Polycarpus the father of Myla’s children?’
41
‘Oh, strip me naked and whip me round the Forum of the Romans, Flavia Albia! Where did you get that from?’ I was slandering a fellow-steward and Gratus was raring to set me straight. Anyone would think stewards had a guild (not legal, since so many were not free). ‘I had reason to dislike the man but I had known him for years and Polycarpus would never have touched that dangerous piece of mischief.’
‘The man was too savvy?’
‘He had a decent wife and children-’
‘That never stops some people, Gratus.’
‘Not in his case. He was faithful — more or less — and, give him his due, he had far better taste!’
I let a slow grin creep across my face. ‘Well. Settle down, my friend. I was just testing. Part of my job. I saw Polycarpus’ attitude towards Myla for myself. He looked irritated by her, and annoyed at having to put up with her in his well-run establishment. I thought little of it at the time.’
Gratus reluctantly came down from his agitation. He would not demean himself by asking who I really thought Myla’s lover was, though I believed he wanted me to know.
I put him out of his misery. ‘Once you think about it, it’s obvious. She has been here for years. She has borne several children. Nobody ever enquires who their father is. Simplicius views her with distaste. Galla and Valerius Junior are vicious to her. Valerius will not hear Myla’s pleas; he absolutely wants her gone. Anyone but Myla herself would know it was stupid to ask him. Can there be any doubt, Gratus — Myla sees herself as special because she was singled out by the one person nobody else could question? It was Valerius Aviola who slept with her.’
‘Flavia Albia, I bow to your powers of conjecture!’ replied Gratus. He was pretending he had known nothing about it. But that was only because he was a very good steward, and very good stewards are impervious to gossip.