This was a new view of Phyllidia. Marcus would hardly be flattered either, I thought.
‘Felix arranged a coach and a chaperon and paid an armed custos to accompany them. There was nothing Phyllidia could do. She was just another consignment of goods, she said, being delivered to the buyer. Felix was to go ahead to Britain — he had some private business in Eboracum — and she was to follow and meet up with him in Glevum.’
At the mention of the northern colonia my spine prickled. I had learned, not long ago, of a Celtic slave called Gwellia living in Eboracum. I said, ‘So you followed her on horseback?’ I could understand the impulse. Given the faintest opportunity, I would make the long and dangerous journey to Eboracum — and I could not even be sure that this Gwellia was my wife.
Octavius nodded. ‘We were to make one more appeal to Felix, and if that failed, we had agreed. . we threatened. . But it is of no importance now. Her father is dead. And nobody poisoned him. So I must find Phyllidia and tell her the news. She has probably jumped to conclusions and is worrying about me.’
‘Octavius,’ I said, ‘you are a freeman and a citizen, and I cannot detain you. But I will give you a warning. Be careful that tongue of yours does not betray you. There are sharp minds in Glevum, and Commodus will not be happy at this death. The authorities would gladly find a culprit. I do not know how you planned to poison Felix, though I can well see why. I sincerely hope for your sake that you did not succeed.’
Octavius stared at me. ‘But. . you said that Felix had merely choked.’
‘I said that he appeared to choke, and for the moment I am prepared to let the public believe it. But there are some indications, citizen, that it may not be true.’
His stare widened ‘You mean, he may have been poisoned after all? Dear gods!’ Octavius put down his drinking vessel, and before either of us could stop him he had bolted for a second time out of the door.
Junio made to go after him, but I restrained him. ‘Let him go, Junio. He has caused enough speculation in the street by calling here already. He will not get far.’
Junio picked up the drinking cup. ‘You think he murdered Felix?’
I sipped at my water. ‘I do not know. I think he fears he may have done. Either that, or he thinks he knows who did. But it is fruitless to call him back. He will tell us no more for the moment, and anyway, this way I can finish his oatcake and’ — I gestured towards the drinking cup — ‘you may drink the rest of that if you wish.’
Junio was raised as a slave in a Roman household, and he actually likes watered wine in the morning.
Chapter Nine
‘Master,’ Junio ventured, putting down the drinking vessel, ‘it is not for me to suggest it, but Marcus. .’
I got to my feet. ‘I had not forgotten,’ I said. ‘I am to attend on him this morning. If you had awakened me earlier I would have done so by now. And then the arrival of Octavius delayed me further. So you can fetch me my toga, and help me to get ready. Marcus will be impatient as it is.’
It was unfair, of course. It was hardly Junio’s fault that I had slept long after sun-up, and I regretted my rebuke. But he was grinning cheerfully as he brought in my toga and began to shake it vigorously to expel the dust. ‘I have done my best with this, master, brushed it and hung it from the window to freshen it in the air, but I fear this toga really needs a visit to the fuller’s.’
I stood up and he began the laborious business of folding me into it.
‘Will you go directly to Marcus, or will you try to find Phyllidia first?’
He was reading my mind. I had been asking myself the same question. ‘I must wait upon my patron. Though, since his orders are to meet him at Gaius’s house, I suppose it is possible that I may do both things at the same time. It would be natural for her to come to the house where her father is.’
‘Even,’ Junio said impudently, ‘when he is “already” dead. That was an interesting remark, did you not think?’ He grinned at me. This was a game we sometimes played in my efforts to train Junio in other skills than mosaic-making.
I adjusted my clasp. ‘You noticed that?’
‘I noticed that you noticed. And that you were suspicious of his early morning visit to the stables. And that made me think. He didn’t go to hire a horse, or he would have had one now. So he must have had some other reason for going there. To meet someone, perhaps, or to find out what horses had been liveried there overnight. He did not go to interfere with the animals — he spoke to the stable-boy.’
I nodded my approval.
‘Then I remembered what the cake-seller had said, and it seemed to make sense. He was expecting Phyllidia and went to see if her horses had arrived. He may even have arranged to meet her there, though I do not suppose he would confess as much to us.’ Junio had been straightening my toga as he spoke, and now tucked the folded ends neatly into my belt. ‘There, now I think you will pass muster with your patron. Unless you wish me to trim your chin? Your beard is reappearing.’
‘There is not time this morning, I am late already. Fetch me my cloak.’
This time when he brought both cloaks I did not dissuade him, and when I set off a few moments later, scurrying as fast as my toga would allow, Junio was with me, following at my heels.
The town was already abuzz with the news. The words ‘banquet’, ‘Perennis’ and ‘dead’ seemed to issue from every street stall and soup kitchen. Huddles of citizens whispered together in doorways, while an enterprising street vendor was doing a brisk trade in selling long strips of dark cloth which could be tacked around the toga as mourning bands. Even a skinny peasant, touting his pathetic bundles of firewood, who had probably never seen a banquet nor heard of the late Prefect of Rome, offered to tell us ‘the latest tidings’ in the hope of earning a quadrans.
I tossed him a coin, but he had nothing new to add, except that an announcement of the death had been publicly read in the forum. That was interesting: it meant that the undertakers had finished their grisly task and what was left of Felix was now lying in state for three days in Gaius’s atrium. Presumably even now the first high-minded citizens were calling to pay their respects to the Emperor’s favourite.
Indeed, as we neared the house, we were joined by a customer of mine, one of the town magistrates for whom I had once built a pavement. He was wearing a proper mourning toga, with ashes on his head, and was carrying a gift. He looked askance at my toga and my empty hands. ‘Greetings, citizen.’ He sounded surprised. ‘I did not expect to find my pavement-maker here. Are you going to attend the lying-in-state?’
I explained that I was going to meet my patron.
‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘poor Marcus. An unfortunate thing to happen in his jurisdiction. The Emperor will not be pleased. I believe they have already despatched a messenger to tell him — and one to the governor also. It is bad luck for Gaius, too. It cannot be comfortable having an old acquaintance drop dead under your roof.’
‘Gaius knew Felix?’ It was the first I’d heard of it.
My customer shook his head. ‘Met him once years ago in Rome, or so the story goes. Jove knows if there is any truth in it — the city is full of rumour. It makes me uneasy. I shall attend the lying-in-state, one dare not show disrespect, but then I shall go straight to my country house and stay there till the repercussions are over. This death may have been an accident, but somebody, somewhere, will have to pay for it.’
We rounded a corner, to find a little spectacle awaiting us. The narrow street outside Gaius’s door was all but impassable: a small crowd had gathered, all bearing small funerary gifts — no doubt each bearing the donor’s name — and arguing fiercely about who should be admitted first. Even in death, I thought, Felix exerted influence. Most important men had opted to come themselves, instead of merely sending their slaves to represent them, and the question of precedence was a lively one.