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‘There!’ I said at last, sitting back on my heels. ‘That will do, I think. Now we can start filling in the tiles.’ The task must have needed all my concentration because it was only now that a thought struck me. ‘All this about the household, the slave boy told you that? You seem to have gained his confidence, at least.’

‘I’m not part of the household,’ Junio grinned. ‘All he wanted was a sympathetic ear. He was only too anxious to pour out all his woes.’ He was passing me the tiles one by one, anticipating my needs.

‘Which were. .?’ I prompted.

‘The poor boy was only purchased recently, to replace another kitchen slave that died. He is terribly ill-suited to the job. His name is Kurso. He was a child slave and playmate to a rich man’s son before, but then his master went to school and so he wasn’t needed any more. He’s had a dreadful time since he arrived. He dropped a serving dish the first hour he was here — he had not known that it would be so hot. Of course, they punished him — and that made it worse. He’s grown so terrified that he’s clumsier by the hour. The other slaves avoid him — they think he brings bad luck.’

‘Perhaps that’s why Lithputh selected him to come and help us?’

‘I expect so, master. Unfortunately, though, if there is gossip in the household, he is the one least likely to have heard it. He seems to have spent much of his time locked in a cellar, either waiting for a beating or recovering from one. Poor boy, he has no skills at anything. I’m surprised that Optimus chose to purchase him. Though Kurso was healthy, young and cheap — no doubt that appealed. But he’s not stupid, master, though they think he is. He isn’t clumsy if he isn’t scared. I showed him what to do here, and he was very quick to learn. Especially when Lithputh left us alone. I think Kurso even quite enjoyed himself.’

‘And so did you, you impudent young scamp,’ I told him. ‘I heard you giving orders like an overseer!’ That sounded sharper than I meant, and I hurried to add, ‘To some effect, at least. He seems to have been very helpful here.’

Junio’s face cleared, and he grinned. ‘Helpful in more ways than one. One can learn things even in a cellar. As I promised, master — I think I may have some real news for you-’ He stopped suddenly as the boy came back into the room, red-faced and struggling under the weight of the heavy bucket, which was filled right to the brim.

‘Ah, Kurso! The water!’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘At last!’

It was the mildest of rebukes, but the effect was startling. Kurso turned a painful shade of red, stepped backwards, and slopped half of the bucket’s contents on the floor as he set it down. ‘I’m sorry, citizen,’ he blurted, with a little sob. ‘I did not mean to be so long — and now I’ve spilt it.’

‘You’d have been quicker with a lighter bucket,’ Junio said.

‘Lithputh is back. He saw me coming to you with the pail and sent me back to fill it properly. Said I was a lazy little swine and to fetch a proper bucketful next time. I’m sorry, citizen.’ His lip was trembling.

Poor child, I thought. That bucket was almost as heavy as he was. And, of course, he dared not spill a drop. ‘Junio says you have been helpful here,’ I said, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, and reaching out to take the water pail.

Kurso misunderstood. He was expecting a blow. He dodged backwards, kicked the pail and almost overset the thing again. He stood there against the wall, gazing at me, breathing fast.

Junio rescued us. ‘Well, my master has come back now, Kurso. I think you should go and be about your duties. Thank you for your help. If you have finished with that pattern, master, I’ll make a start at cleaning over here.’ He picked up the brush that Lithputh had provided and turned away, scrubbing the fresh-laid tiles as if the water had been poured out there on purpose.

Even then Kurso looked at me, too terrified to move without permission. I nodded, and he scuttled off in reverse, still bowing, as fast as his legs would take him. (People talk lightly about unfortunates who have learned, from bitter experience, how to run faster backwards than forwards. In Kurso’s case, I realised, it was true.)

I waited until I was sure the boy was gone before I said to Junio, ‘Poor child. But I think you said he may have told you something significant?’

He put down the brush at once. ‘I did, master, and it seems that you were right! About it being Hirsus in the garden here last night. Of course I can’t be absolutely sure — Kurso didn’t see the visitor, and naturally I couldn’t press him too much for details.’

‘It wasn’t Optimus’s wife, at any rate,’ I said. ‘I met her a little while ago, and she is much too short and fat. So what did Kurso say? Be quick and tell me, Junio. Lithputh will be here any minute.’

Junio resumed his scrubbing and took a deep breath. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s like this. . Kurso was chained up in a store outside one day, waiting to be whipped for something he’d done. They left him there for hours. He thought at first it was done to punish him, but Optimus had come home unexpectedly, and it seems in all the rush they’d genuinely forgotten him. They’d left the door a little bit ajar — fortunately, or he might have suffocated — but no one came near him all the afternoon. But later, when it was getting dark, he heard a noise.’ He paused dramatically.

‘Hirsus?’ I said, anxious to get to the point.

Junio shook his head. ‘I can’t be sure. Kurso himself didn’t know. He only knows he heard a voice — a whispering, he said, and what sounded like the chink of coins. He thought it was his master’s voice he heard, and he was petrified. Decided that Optimus was tired of him, and was in the process of selling him back to some slave-trader. Not that Kurso was happy in the household, but things could be a whole lot worse, of course — if he got sold on to the mines, or something — the more so if they sold him in disgrace. Naturally, he wanted to know what was happening. He couldn’t hear a word of what was said, and he was chained so he couldn’t really move, but he did contrive to shuffle up a bit and got a small glimpse through the door.’

‘And what did he see?’ I said impatiently. ‘Who was with Optimus?’

‘That’s just it,’ Junio exclaimed. ‘It wasn’t Optimus at all. It was Lithputh. And he was talking to a priest. Kurso is absolutely sure of that. It was getting dark, and he was peeping through a crack, but he is absolutely adamant. He’d seen the man before, he said, over at the temple — and anyway he recognised the robes.’ He grinned. ‘Sounds like an Imperial priest to me! Any of the other priests would wear a toga, wouldn’t they, even the High Priest of Jupiter.’

‘I suppose they would!’ I worked it out aloud. ‘Impossible to tell them from any other citizen, in the dark — except perhaps for that flaminial hat?’

My slave looked doubtful. ‘Kurso didn’t say anything about a hat. I got the impression he couldn’t see the face — he would have been kneeling on the floor, remember. But definitely he mentioned “priestly robes”.’

‘Not someone from the Mithraic temple or the Osiris cult?’

Junio shook his head. ‘From the temple opposite, he said. “And in the cloak he looked so slight and slim he might have been mistaken for a woman.” Those were his very words.’

‘It does sound like Hirsus, then,’ I said. ‘No one could take Meritus or Scribonius for a girl. So, what did Kurso do?’

‘Nothing,’ Junio replied. ‘He simply held his breath and tried his hardest not to make a noise and after a while the two men went away. But here’s the thing I thought would interest you. The priest wrapped himself up in a hooded cloak, he says — just like the figure we saw yesterday — and (this is the most extraordinary thing) Lithputh himself went out to the gate, and personally let the caller out. Kurso is sure of that. Lithputh would have a key for the back gate, anyway, of course.’