I scrambled after him, saying in an urgent whisper, ‘But, Excellence. What am I to do? You say I cannot speak to Publius.’
‘Start with the driver of the coach, perhaps?’ he hissed, impatiently.
‘Do you know where I can find him, Excellence? Or what he looks like? If he is at the gate, it won’t be easy even to discover which carriage-man it was, without asking questions…’
Marcus paused to look at me at last, and shook his head. ‘That won’t be necessary. I believe that Publius had him seized and escorted back to the Vestal’s family home, where he is no doubt under lock and key. I am not entirely certain where the villa is, but I am sure that you can get directions to the place.’
‘Without attracting more suspicion?’ I enquired, trying to restore some life into my feet by stamping them discreetly on the ground. ‘If Publius had a driver arrested at the gates, that will have given rise to public comment as it is — without my drawing more attention to the incident and directing gossip towards the woman’s home.’
Fiscus, who had withdrawn to stand discreetly to one side, came forward with a bow. ‘Masters, forgive me, I could not help but overhear. It is possible that I could assist the citizen. I have some notion of where the family live — my previous owner called upon them yesterday.’
It was impertinent for a slave to interrupt but Marcus offered no rebuke. His face cleared instantly. ‘A good suggestion, Fiscus. You’ll attend this citizen and show him where to go — treat him as your master till I instruct you otherwise. In the meantime, I must hurry to the games.’ He motioned to his other pages, a pair of matching blond boys, who were waiting by the wall, and went to turn away.
I prevented him from leaving by falling on one knee so that he was obliged to present me with his ring to kiss. ‘And my own family, Excellence?’ I murmured. ‘Will you send them word? They will think I’ve been arrested if I do not return — they saw me detained by the sentry at the gate.’
A look of irritation flashed across his face — the roar from the amphitheatre was louder all the time and he was clearly anxious to be gone — but he said readily enough, ‘I’ll send one of my pages to let them know you’re safe — as soon as they have escorted me into the games.’ He motioned me to rise. ‘Report to me at my country house, when you get back, and let me know what you have managed to find out. Perhaps tomorrow. I may be late tonight. I am invited to a birthday feast with Publius’s family and I’ve not heard that it’s cancelled.’
I got up clumsily. The feeling was coming back into my lower legs, though my foot was still inclined to buckle under me. ‘It may take me a little time to reach the house in any case,’ I said. ‘It is some way to walk.’
Marcus, who never parted willingly with cash, reached into the purse he carried at his waist and seemed about to fetch some money out. Then his face cleared, and he shook his head. ‘You can have this litter to take you over there — I have reserved if for my personal use this afternoon. I will send the bearers out to you — I gave them permission to watch the games a while — and when you get to the villa you can send them back to me.’
‘And when I have finished there? How shall I get home?’
He waved a lofty hand. ‘Doubtless the bride’s household have a wagon you could use. You may tell them that I suggested it. Now, be off with you, or it will be too late — for you to ask questions, and for me to see the fights.’
And this time, accompanied by his slaves, he disappeared into the games. A moment later I heard the general cheer that welcomed his appearance in the official box. It was not until this moment that it occurred to me that I had not remembered to ask about the names of the family that I was intending to approach. Fiscus, when I asked him, was no help at all — on his visit to the house he had been whisked off to the back and entertained with watered wine and cheese in the servant’s sleeping room.
‘They talked about the master and mistress, that was all,’ he said. ‘They didn’t mention names.’ An idea so obvious that I should have thought of it.
I aimed a frustrated kick towards the mounting block, but my dead leg almost crumpled under me.
There was an ironic jeering from behind us and I turned to see a little crowd of urchins, pie-sellers and curious spectators who had clearly stopped to watch the unlikely spectacle of a pair of citizens crammed into a litter that was not going anywhere. So much for Marcus’s idea of being secretive!
With such dignity as I could muster I got into the chair, and gestured to Fiscus to find the carriers. After a moment, he came back with them. They were visibly disappointed at being forced to leave, but — like me — they could hardly disobey an order from Marcus Septimus, and with very little grumbling they lifted me aloft.
Fiscus had to trot beside the chair, of course, and give the bearers directions where to go, but he was athletic and they were young and strong so it was a good deal quicker than my walking to the place, especially when one leg refused to work. I lay back on the cushions and enjoyed the ride.
It must have been rather less than half an hour before we jolted to a stop and I pulled back the litter-curtains to see that we had halted outside a pleasant country house.
FOUR
It was a compact villa, compared to my patron’s vast and rambling one: an attractive single-storey building with two rearward-facing wings, and just a gatehouse and small courtyard in the front, although an adjacent piece of farmland was clearly part of the estate, since a single-cart track led right through the fields to what was presumably another entrance at the back. A half-dozen young land-slaves were leaning on their hoes looking at us with interest from beyond the hedge — till a cursing foreman strode up with a whip, whereupon they turned reluctantly to work.
The feeling had come back into my feet by now, so as soon as my conveyance was safely on the ground I permitted Fiscus to assist me out of it. But before I had taken a single step towards the house the doorkeeper had come out of the small stone cell where he kept watch and — to my surprise — was hurrying to meet us, wearing the broadest smile of welcome I have ever seen.
It was just as well, because he was otherwise a most forbidding sight. Unusually for a man who kept the gates (who are most often hairy giants) he was small and squarish, with a bald head that glistened like a wet ballista ball, but what he lacked in size he clearly made up for in strength. His short orange tunic strained across his chest, powerful legs bulged above the heavy boots, the sinews in his arms were like twisted strands of rope and he carried a huge club as if it were a twig. This was a man who could repel unwanted visitors. But there was the smile.
In fact I was so encouraged by this sign of friendliness that I gestured to the carrying-slaves that they were free to go, although I had previously asked them to delay until I was admitted to the house: I had no wish to be stranded miles from anywhere down a narrow country lane. They were obviously anxious to get back to the games and at my signal they picked up the litter and set off at a run.
I turned back towards the gatekeeper, a word of cheerful greeting already on my lips, but as he saw my face the smile dissolved like smoke.
‘Citizen.’ He fidgeted a little with his club. ‘I didn’t… that is… the toga — I should have realized.’ He stared from Fiscus and the scarlet uniform, to my much-laundered garments with disapproving disbelief. ‘I don’t believe I know you, after all. You have some business here?’
My heart sank lower than my sandal-soles. I had been overhasty in letting the litter-bearers go. It did not take an oracle to see the problem here.
‘You were expecting Publius?’ I asked, pacifically. ‘Of course. And no doubt my attendant confirmed you in that thought. He tells me he came here with his owner yesterday. I expect you recognized him, despite his change of uniform.’