Severus struggled to get out of his grasp and collapsed on the tiled floor, mumbling, ‘Wash matter with me?’
‘You’re drunk.’
The man shook his head. ‘Not drunk.’ He wiped his nose and mouth with his fingers. ‘Everything’s gone funny.’
‘Lie down for a moment till your head clears,’ suggested Ruso, motioning to Galla to keep back.
‘Not drunk!’ shouted Severus. He tried to get up, but his arms and legs seemed to have taken on lives of their own and skidded helplessly in the regurgitated breakfast. ‘Help me!’
Ruso crouched beside him and tried to help him up. Severus’ legs had tangled themselves around the desk, and the arm that encircled Ruso’s neck almost pulled him off balance to land on top of his patient.
‘Lie still,’ he ordered, ducking out from under the arm and mentally running through a list of possible causes other than wine. ‘Have you been bitten or stung by something?’
‘No.’
‘Just lie still,’ Ruso urged, adding with more confidence than he felt, ‘It’ll pass in a minute.’ He tried, ‘Did you ride over here bareheaded in the sun?’ not because it was likely, but because it would buy him some time to think.
‘Why’s everything moving?’ cried Severus, rubbing his eyes with his fists. ‘I can’t see!’
Ruso turned to the doorway, where his servant was looking as frightened as his patient. ‘Galla, what did he have to drink?’
‘Mistress Cassiana brought him some water, my lord.’
‘I can’t see! The light’s gone all … Help me!’
Ruso tried to detach himself from the man’s terror and think clearly. He was certain this was a case of poisoning, but without knowing what the poison was, it was hard to know how best to treat it.
‘Olive oil and a cool damp cloth,’ he ordered Galla. ‘Quickly.’
‘Just lie still now,’ he repeated, not knowing what else to suggest. He crouched over his patient, trying to work logically through the possibilities. The man had been fingering his mouth: presumably because the poison had entered that way. What the hell had he taken? He smelled of nothing unexpected apart from a faint trace of roses under the vomit: probably a harmless attempt to mask bad breath.
The mouth had not been dry: not henbane or mandrake, then. He was far too agitated for poppy. He had lost his coordination, but he was still able to move all his limbs. He was not choking. He had not complained of a headache, or of feeling cold. Did hemlock always paralyse? What were the symptoms of wolfsbane? There could be dozens of other poisons he had not even considered, and he could not abandon the patient while he hurried off to scrabble for clues in his medical books.
Severus was struggling to say something. Squirming round the worst of the mess, Ruso leaned down again and grabbed a flailing hand. He felt a worryingly slow and fluttery pulse.
‘That bitch!’ whispered Severus.
Galla returned with a jug and the cloth. Ruso wiped the sweating forehead and wished he were back with the Legion. In Africa there would have been a poisons specialist on the staff. Even in Britannia he would have been able to shout for the pharmacist. Here, there was no time to fetch even the humblest root-cutter from town. He was on his own.
He turned to Galla again. ‘Help me prop him up,’ he said. ‘Then fetch Lucius, or one of the farm boys if you can’t find him. He’s to ride over to the Senator’s and tell them Severus has been taken ill and they need to come straight away.’
He returned his attention to his patient, tipping some of the oil into the drooling mouth. ‘We’ll get it back up, whatever it was,’ he promised. ‘Can you think of anything you’ve eaten or drunk that tasted strange? What about the rosewater?’
Severus muttered something. He tried to push the jug away.
Ruso leaned closer and grabbed the man’s arm to hold it still. ‘Say it again,’ he prompted.
‘I’m dying!’ whispered Severus. ‘The bitch has poisoned me!’
20
By the time it brought Lucius back home, the mule’s coat was mottled with dark patches of sweat. Ruso watched from the porch as it was led away by the stable lad, then glanced at the horizon and saw a second cloud of dust rising from the direction of the road.
‘They’re on the way,’ confirmed Lucius, striding up the steps to the house. ‘Claudia’s gone to town, so his sister’s coming in the carriage with the household steward. I told them you were here, but they’ve sent to town for their own doctor anyway. How is he now? Is he fit to travel?’ He paused. ‘Gaius?’
Ruso shook his head.
‘Oh, gods, he isn’t —?’
‘Just after you left.’
‘He can’t be!’ Lucius hurried past him into the hall. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’
Ruso had heard the question often enough to recognize it as desperate hope rather than an insult to his competence. He limped down the corridor after his brother. Since he was clutching the key to the study door, he was surprised when Lucius opened up and walked in before he got there. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten to lock it?
Ahead of him, he heard Lucius exclaim, ‘Holy Jupiter!’
He should have warned him. Lucius was not used to such sights. Ruso had closed the man’s eyes, but otherwise the body would be lying just as it had died.
On entering the study, though, it was Ruso’s turn to be shocked. ‘Galla! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Galla looked up from washing the floor. Severus’ body, now naked, had been rolled over to lie against the wall. She still looked frightened, as well she might.
‘She’s tidying up,’ replied Arria, stepping forward from behind the door. ‘Since the family are on the way and none of you boys seems to know what to do.’
‘But I locked the door!’
Arria held up an iron key identical to the one in his own hand. ‘How do you imagine the staff get in to clean the room, dear? Galla, that’ll do. The master will help you roll the body back and make it decent. You will, won’t you, Gaius? We don’t want to involve any more of the staff than necessary.’
Ruso tightened his grip on the stick. ‘Arria, I told her to leave this room exactly as it was.’
‘I know, dear. But did you really expect poor Claudia to see him in that state? He was a dreadful man, and she’ll be better off without him, but at least we can show some respect.’
‘When I give an order in this house, I expect it to be obeyed.’
Galla was kneeling motionless on the floor between them.
‘You can stop now,’ Ruso told her. ‘Leave the room and don’t say anything to anyone about what you’ve seen and heard in here, understand?’
She nodded, scrambled to her feet and ran.
‘Well, really!’ exclaimed Arria. ‘I was only trying to help!’
Ruso took a deep breath. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Lucius and I will deal with it now.’
‘I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss, Gaius.’
‘No,’ agreed Ruso, as calmly as he could manage. ‘You don’t. Now if you want to help, go and fetch me a clean tunic to put on him. Then watch for his family and when you see the carriage turn in at the gates come straight here and tell me.’
‘That was a bit harsh,’ observed Lucius after the door had slammed behind Arria. ‘She was only trying to help.’
‘She’s done enough helping,’ growled Ruso. ‘Thanks to her, it looks as though we’re the ones who poisoned him.’
‘The ones who what?’
Ruso crouched beside the body. He shifted its arm, crooked its knee to help redistribute the weight and rolled it over towards him. ‘Well, somebody did.’
There was a momentary pause before: ‘In our house?’
‘Of course not. At least, I don’t suppose so. But thanks to Arria, it now looks as if we’ve been trying to clean up the evidence.’
While Lucius took this in, Ruso hauled the body over again until it was back in roughly the right place.