The censor gave a pompous cough and cut across my thoughts, trying to overcome embarrassment by showing how efficient he could be. ‘However, there’s something else which might be relevant. I traced this Tholiramanda through the tax records and found her mentioned elsewhere — as a landowner. It appears that she is the legal holder of a whole block of property down in the bath-house end of town. She inherited it when her husband died: a licensed fuller’s shop and several stalls — including a butcher’s shop, as I recall. If this is the same butcher, then she would own his shop — that might explain his acquiescence in her activities.’ He was preening now.
The optio was looking horrified at this. It is one thing for a woman to run a brothel from necessity, quite another for an otherwise respectable widow, well provided for by her husband’s will, to do so out of choice. ‘Great Mercury! Why did you not mention this before?’
Marcus, too, was trying to cover his shocked astonishment by gesturing to the wine-slave to refill his cup. ‘Surely it’s unusual, to say the least, that a woman of that kind — a widow with property of her own — should rent a building in another part of town and use it for such. .’ he hesitated before he found the word, ‘. . commercial purposes?’
The censor said stiffly, ‘We never had occasion to connect the two before: there has never been any difficulty in collecting tax, so there was no need to question who the tenants were. They’re only townspeople. It’s not as though they were Roman citizens.’ He clearly felt that he’d absolved himself and he consoled his wounded dignity with another sip of wine.
‘But why should a woman with income of her own be running a lupinarium at all?’ Marcus drained his goblet and looked expectantly at me.‘Well, Libertus? What do you make of it? You look as if something has occurred to you.’
In fact, I was remembering what the now dead keeper of the thermopolium had said — that rival families, both pro-and anti-Roman, owned large portions of the civitas, and secretly controlled the businesses within their area. Presumably Lyra enjoyed ‘protection’ from one faction, then. But if so, which?
According to Lupus she had good relations with the town authorities. That made a kind of sense because the wolf-house was in the pro-Roman area of town: her landlord, Nyros, funded civic works and seemed to be hoping for a council post, and her special client was a man of influence. Besides, I was convinced that she had some connection with my mysteriously resurrected friend — that most Roman of Roman citizens. It was obvious that she had pro-Roman links.
Yet, according to what we had learned tonight, she also had connections with the ‘bath-side’ faction, which — according to Big-ears and his friends — was the unofficial territory of the opposing side. That was where I’d met her first, it was the home of her kinsman and his two red-headed spies, and it now seemed that she even had property in that area herself.
I was still running these ideas around my head and trying to make sense of them when the meal was abruptly interrupted by a loud disturbance just outside the door. There was the sound of furious, muffled argument, and then a flushed and flustered menial appeared. ‘There is a messenger to see you, optio.’
He had hardly managed to blurt out the words before the messenger appeared behind him at the door — a cavalry officer by his armour and his cloak, though he was dusty and dishevelled and limping on one foot as though it pained him.
The optio was already struggling to his feet. As commander of a military inn — especially in a border area like this — imperial duty obliged him to attend at once to any messenger, but he seemed almost relieved at the excuse. ‘My apologies, citizens,’ he murmured. ‘I shall not be long.’
But the horseman had by now advanced into the room. He ignored the optio and flung himself abjectly in front of Marcus. ‘Your indulgence, Excellence. I regret this interruption to your meal, but this is too serious to wait. I bring distressing news.’
Marcus looked startled, but he stretched out his hand and signalled to the messenger to rise. ‘Who are you and what is your business here? I hope it is as urgent as you say, to merit this intrusion.’ If not, you can expect the consequences — he did not speak the words but they were understood.
The soldier nodded. ‘My name is Regulus, Excellence. I am a member of the Isca garrison — an auxiliary spearman with the cavalry. There were four of us. We were detailed to come and find you here and accompany you, as outriders, to the garrison. There have been renewed attacks on army patrols and personnel of late, and the roads between here and the border are not wholly safe.’
‘You are very late about it,’ Marcus snapped. ‘If it were not for an unhappy incident which delayed us here, we should already have been in Isca by this time. In view of all the troubles I’ve been hearing of, I was proposing to organise an additional armed escort from this end. Though I must confess I had expected that your commander would have provided one — I’ve just sent a message to him, saying so.’
The soldier’s face turned scarlet at the implied rebuke, but his discipline did not fail. ‘We should have been with you by noon, Excellence, but I regret to tell you that we were delayed — set upon by a marauding band. It was a lightning ambush and we were unprepared. We suffered only lightly — a few cuts and bruises, none of us seriously hurt — but our horses were captured and our equipment seized and we have been obliged to walk. I regret if you have suffered inconvenience. A messenger was sent here to the mansio ahead of us, to advise you that an escort was prepared-’
The optio interrupted him. ‘We’ve received no messenger.’
‘Indeed, sir. I am now aware of that. It appears that the man concerned was ambushed too. I fear he was killed. Only of course there was only one of him, while there were four of us — and even we had difficulty fighting ourselves free.’
Marcus frowned. ‘And you lost your army mounts, you say? How did a detachment of the Roman cavalry come to be so easily overwhelmed?’
The soldier’s colour mounted and he kept his eyes fixed resolutely on the wall. ‘I crave your indulgence, Excellence. We walked into a trap. There is one portion of the road which is extremely steep and wooded. We were riding through it this morning, single file, when one of our number spotted something hanging from a tree a little way down a forest path. It appeared to be a naked human form, but there was a Roman cloak and helmet dangling nearby. Naturally we dismounted and went to look at it. .’ He tailed off in dismay.
‘And that was when a group of armed assailants jumped out of the trees at you?’ I finished for him.
He nodded gratefully. It was a guess on my part, but a likely one. If I had been a rebel, I would have set up exactly such a scheme.
‘There must have been half a dozen men in all,’ the soldier said, returning to his tale. ‘Two of them seized the horses and made off with them, but one of our men spotted what they were up to and called on them to halt. They ignored us, naturally, just went on leading them away. We drew our swords and started to pursue them down the path, but all at once another, bigger group leapt out on us and attacked us from behind. We formed a square and managed to protect ourselves — held our ground and even succeeded in wounding one of them. Then, when their companions had made good their escape, our assailants simply turned and faded off in all directions through the undergrowth. We tried to crash through after them, but we were wearing armour and they were lightly dressed. They were too quick for us.’
‘Meanwhile, you’d left your equipment with the horses, I presume?’ The optio sounded scornful. ‘You left them standing there without a guard? If so, I shall report it to your commandant. That amounts to simple negligence. You will be put on punishment fatigues and the cost will be deducted from your pay. You understand?’ There is always a rivalry between legionary officers like the optio, who are citizens by birth, and auxiliaries like Regulus who only earn the status after forty years of service, usually on a fraction of the pay.