79
Hiring transport to get home was not easy on the day of the games, and by the time Tilla helped the Medicus clamber up into the only carriage that was prepared to leave town at this hour, the sun had gone, and the colour was draining away from the day. The driver, who had insisted on payment in advance, whipped the reluctant horses into a trot. Tilla was not sorry to speed past the long rows of tombstones leading away from the Augustus gate. The area looked distinctly unwelcoming, and there was an autumnal chill in the air.
The Medicus seemed surprisingly happy now the medicine had taken effect. He was lying across the seat with his feet halfway up the wall of the carriage and his head resting on her lap. It was not a dignified position for either of them, and Tilla was glad there were few people about to see it.
She ran a thumb along his unshaven jaw. She wished she could tell the driver to carry on into the night: to take them both away to somewhere private, far from his family and their parched land with its hideous love of cruelty. She wished they had never left Britannia. Even if he wanted her here, how could she bear to stay?
The Medicus stirred in her lap, gave a murmur of contentment and said something that sounded like, ‘All home now.’
She laid a hand across his forehead. ‘Sleep,’ she murmured as the carriage jolted them on down the road towards the farm.
Suddenly his eyes opened. ‘Why did they come here?’ he asked, looking up at her as if they had been carrying on a conversation. Perhaps he had been dreaming.
She said, ‘Who?’
‘Calvus and Stilo.’
‘To visit their friend Severus to plan more stealing, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Or perhaps they met him on the road to your house and poisoned him. Go back to sleep.’
The eyes drifted shut. The carriage jolted on. Tilla closed her own eyes and felt her head beginning to nod.
‘But after he was dead, why did they stay?’
Tilla, whose mind had wandered back to other journeys in Britannia, had to remind herself who the Medicus was talking about. ‘To find out who killed him?’ she suggested. ‘What did they say to that fat man on the balcony?’
The Medicus explained that a woman looking like Claudia had bought poisoned honey. ‘Ennia must have overheard us talking and told Calvus and Stilo, or whatever their names were.’
‘You see? I told you it was the old wife who did it.’
‘She says it wasn’t, and I think I believe her.’
She sighed. Even now, he could not face the truth.
‘Why did they care?’ he asked.
‘Who?’
‘Why did Calvus and Stilo care who killed Severus?’
‘Perhaps they liked him and they wanted to avenge him,’ she suggested. ‘Perhaps they wanted to make some money from finding the poisoner. Why are you lying down if your mind is working and you are not asleep?’
He snuggled against her. ‘I can think better down here. Listen. Even if they did like him, it isn’t their duty to avenge him, it’s his family’s. And why would they risk hanging around, knowing that somebody might work out who they were at any moment? It makes no sense. Who’s to say the Gabinii would have paid them for helping anyway? Besides, they’d already got the money Severus had helped them swindle out of Probus for the ship.’
She shrugged. ‘Who cares? They are just bad men.’
He wriggled, pulled himself up to sit properly and peered out of the side of the carriage. ‘Where are we?’
‘On the way back to your home.’
He was upright now, leaning forward, calling, ‘Stop!’ to the driver.
She grabbed the neck of his tunic and pulled him back. ‘What are you doing? This is the middle of the road!’
‘Stop!’ he yelled louder, grabbing one of the borrowed crutches and banging on the floor. The driver allowed the horses to slow and called, ‘Something the matter, boss?’
The Medicus was peering out into the dusk. ‘Turn round. Take the turn a hundred paces back, uphill between the vineyards.’
‘The Senator’s place? You sure about that?’
‘No!’ called Tilla. ‘He is ill. I am taking him home.’
‘I want to go to the Senator’s estate,’ insisted Ruso.
‘Make your minds up!’ came the voice from in front. ‘I’m not driving around all night in the dark. One or the other. Quick, or you get out and walk.’
‘The estate.’
With some grumbling, the driver manoeuvred the vehicle around in a tight semi-circle and set off back the way they had come.
Tilla said, ‘You are going to see the old wife.’
‘I need to make sure she’s safe.’
Tilla sighed and leaned against the back of the carriage. ‘Still, you think you are the only one who can save her. She is making a fool of you.’
‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think Calvus and Stilo ever came here for a social visit. I think they came here to find something, and they’ve been looking for it ever since. And if I’m right, they won’t want to leave without it.’
80
The carriage was already disappearing into the dusk when the Medicus rapped on the gates of the big estate for a second time.
After a moment Tilla pointed out, ‘Nothing is happening.’
He said, ‘There should at least be a dog.’
‘Why would this Calvus and Stilo come here when everyone knows they are liars and there will be men looking for them?’
The Medicus seemed to be wondering that himself. Perhaps his mind was still lost inside the pain-fighting medicine. Perhaps this really had just been an excuse to come and visit the old wife. She wished she had insisted on overruling him about the carriage. Still, if he really thought they could catch the men who had murdered Cass’s brother … ‘Bang on the gate.’
‘No,’ he said, fiddling with the latch and pushing at the studded wood with one shoulder. ‘I don’t want the whole household to hear.’
She could not resist a sigh of exasperation. ‘Very good. The driver has gone back to town. Everyone here has locked the doors and gone to bed early, and you do not want to wake them up. So now we have a long walk home.’
‘Not yet,’ he said, pushing harder at the gate. It gave way slowly, as if there were something heavy behind it. He bent to examine what he had just pushed out of the way.
‘It’s the gatekeeper.’ He was feeling for a pulse when she tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. The dog lay motionless, surrounded by a dark stain. No wonder it had failed to bark.
While the Medicus tended the injured man, she unsheathed her knife and crept out of the far end of the gatehouse.
She stopped dead.
The place was full of tall people.
She ducked back under the gatehouse. Her heart continued to thud furiously even as her brain registered her mistake. The people were not tall. They were on plinths. They were statues. She was entering a grand garden.
She took a couple of deep breaths, then moved forward again. On the left of the garden was an expanse of water and beyond it, the dark hulk of a house. She hesitated, chewing her lower lip. The Medicus had not bothered to tell her why he thought the false investigators were here or what they might be looking for. All he had said was that he wanted to make sure the old wife was safe. That would be interesting. How much danger should a woman leave an old wife in before it was necessary to help her?
It was a question she would have liked to debate around the fire late one night with her own people. Instead, she had a more pressing problem. The wife would be in the house. The house was reached by the paths, and the paths were deep gravel.
She could walk quickly towards the house, or she could walk quietly. Since she needed to do both, there was only one way to do it. Tilla veered sideways, lifted her skirt above her knees and sank one foot into the soil of a flowerbed. The scent of crushed rosemary wafted around her. She smiled to herself as she marched past the pond. The old wife would not be able to complain: the barbarian was here on the orders of the Medicus, and they were coming to save her from the murderers who called themselves Calvus and Stilo. Although why he thought they would be here was a mystery.