‘You’d better fetch the captain of the guard,’ said one, and the other disappeared. I could hear his footsteps clattering on the flagstones. Junio helped me to my feet, and taking off my still-sodden cloak began to wrap me gently in my toga. Its heavy folds were warm and comforting, and perversely I began to shiver.
All the old gods of earth and stone, bless Junio! Suddenly, the soldiers could not do enough for me. I was taken upstairs — or rather I was assisted there — to a small room with a stool and a narrow bed, and a bowl of warming soup was brought to me. I was still a prisoner, of course, with a guard at the door, and would be tried tomorrow, but I recognised anew the privileges of citizenship and patronage. Even when I was found guilty of the charges — as I doubtless would be — I would die a more dignified death.
They were so apologetic at my previous treatment that they allowed Junio to stay with me awhile. ‘If only I could prove a case against Zetso!’ I said. ‘There might yet be hope for me if I could show that he conspired to kill his master.’ I outlined my ideas concerning Gaius.
Junio beamed. ‘But, master, that is wonderful. Gaius was famed for having loved his wife to distraction. If Felix poisoned her, even by accident, he would have had a splendid motive for poisoning Felix.’
‘Except,’ I said gloomily, ‘that he didn’t do it. There is the dog, for one thing. I attempted to convince myself, but while I can accept that Gaius would murder Felix, I do not believe for a moment that he would harm his dog.’
Junio was not to be quelled. ‘Perhaps the dog was killed by accident. When Felix dropped his drinking cup, perhaps? You told me that everything was split upon the floor.’
‘Yes,’ I conceded. ‘I believe that something of the kind destroyed the dog. But not at Gaius’s hands. Supposing that everything I said is true. Gaius had prepared a poison mixture, and was ready to proffer it as a medicine. How could he hope to ensure that Felix would conveniently require it, by choking on a nut?’
Junio stared at me. ‘Tommonius. .?’ he suggested, feebly.
‘Tommonius had no grudge against Felix. Against Marcus perhaps, for upsetting his private affairs, but he had never met Felix. He came to the feast hoping to arrange some trade with him. In any case, when he placed the bowl on the acrobat’s feet, how could he guarantee which nut Felix would select, to have it stick in his throat — or, indeed, that Felix would select a nut at all?’
Junio sighed. ‘So, what do you suppose? Octavius is guilty after all?’
‘Of course he isn’t. He clearly thought that Phyllidia had killed her father. Presumably he knew that she had stolen the poison, and deduced the worst. The poor idiot made a confession in the hope of saving her. But he could not have done it. He was not even in the house until the banquet was begun, and I myself was with him after that. And Phyllidia did not arrive until the gates were closed.’
‘One of them might have bribed the servants.’
‘When? Unless Phyllidia was in collusion with Zetso. I considered that. It remains a kind of possibility — we know that she had succeeded in stealing poison — but I cannot make sense of it. Why come to Britannia to murder her father? She might have done it much more readily at home. She still had her phial of poison intact — and what did Zetso stand to gain from it?’
‘Then it remains a mystery?’
‘There is something missing in my reasoning,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it really was a judgement of the gods, as Tommonius said. There must be many vengeful spirits in the afterworld who would seek Felix’s downfall. Marcus’s unfortunate herald, for one. And I am as convinced as I can be that Felix engineered the death of Egobarbus, simply in order to avoid paying him the substantial sum he obviously owed. But it seems that I will never prove that either. I face trial in the morning — on a charge of which I am clearly guilty.’
‘I will try to help you, master, even if they will not let me stay with you,’ Junio said. The guard was already signalling that it was time for him to leave. ‘I will work at it all night if necessary.’
‘So shall I,’ I promised.
But I was wrong. I am an old man and the buffetings and depredations of the day had left me bruised and exhausted. I lay upon the simple bed to rest, shut my eyes for a single moment to help my concentration, and when I opened them again I found that — despite the threat of execution hanging over me — it was already morning and I had slept till dawn.
Chapter Twenty-seven
A Roman court is always an impressive business, even when one does not find oneself the subject of it. The lofty chamber, white-robed magistrates, the bevy of scribbling slaves and scuttling attendants, the tap of sandals on the pavement floors and the swish of togas — all these things create a sense of awe. Even the babbling crowds of the curious and ghoulish, who are forever clamouring at public places, feel it and are hushed.
When the court is to be presided over by the provincial Governor, the awe is increased a hundredfold. As I was conveyed to the basilica next morning, under guard but still wearing my toga, the streets were lined with residents — many of them no doubt roused from bed and co-opted for the purpose. Yesterday’s funereal wreaths and arches had been re-dressed with flowers and ribbons, and were doing double service as festive garlands. As we passed, some of the attendant crowds waved their branches and cheered, as people do at processions for no especial reason but to pass the time.
We had not long to wait. The notes of distant trumpets could be heard, then clarions, drummers and the sound of cheers. A string of infant slaves appeared to strew the way with rose-petals, mounted horsemen followed, and at last Pertinax himself arrived, in a closed imperial carriage with a marching guard.
I had never seen the Governor before, except in statues. He was a little less impressive than his images — a man of middle height, and middle age, with a strong intelligent face, at once severe and just, and an air of dignified authority. In another time and place I would have liked him at once, but as I stood shivering in the courtroom to meet him I was more aware of the stern jaw and the determined stride than of the high forehead and the twinkle in the eyes.
A carpet had been laid out for him, all the way from the top of the steps into the judgement room. He walked sedately along it, though he seemed oblivious of it, to take his seat. It was a kind of gilded chair, almost like a throne, with a footstool before it on which he rested one sandalled foot. With his deep-purple edges and his fine cloak swirled behind him he sat there like a monument to justice, while servants placed a wreath around his brow.
Marcus, who was following, was forced for once to take a lowlier stool. He still wore a mourning band around his toga, and many of the other dignitaries did the same.
I tried to catch his eye, but he refused to look in my direction.
‘Set forth the prisoners,’ the governor said, and I was led forward. At least a hundred spectators, apart from magistrates and officials, had packed themselves around the walls and doorways, but there was an open space in the middle of the room. I found myself standing in it, with Zetso at my side. His hands, like mine, were bound together at the wrists, but he showed no signs of a flogging.
‘What are the charges?’ Pertinax’s voice was resonant.
I was arraigned first. I had ordered the arrest of the other prisoner, claiming the governor’s authority, in defiance of a signed authority which promised him safe conduct as the agent of his master. I had questioned the authenticity of the seals. A clear case of treasonable insult to the Emperor. Was I guilty of these things?