Death at Pompeia's Wedding Read online

He nodded earnestly. ‘I’m very sorry citizen, to have left you standing here – I came as soon as possible when I heard the gong. I didn’t even stop to put the basket down – but . . . Oh, dear Mars! – there goes the gong again. There must be other visitors waiting at the door.’

  I nodded. ‘Two important ones,’ I said. ‘I saw them in the street. They’ve taken a few minutes to come up to the door. I think they were waiting for me to be safely out of sight. So, if you’ll announce me, I’ll go and join the crowd.’ I gave him a conspiratorial wink. ‘And if I were you, I’d put those walnuts down. You look like a street vendor with that basket on your arm.’

  He gave me a grateful look and put the basket down beside a handsome wooden table with a shoe-shaped lamp on it. ‘You won’t tell my master that I was delayed?’

  ‘Nor that you stood here chattering when you did arrive!’ I said. In fact, his artless prattle was delaying me – though a sign, at least, that I hadn’t frightened him. Perhaps I could ask him to point Antoninus out. I raised an eyebrow in mock severity. ‘So, now perhaps, you’d kindly show me in.’

  He had the grace to look a bit abashed. ‘Who shall I tell them, citizen?’ he asked. He pushed wide the door that I’d been peering round and took a step into the room, just as the gong rang out again – more insistently than ever. He looked back at me, uncertain what to do.

  I was on the point of giving him my name, when I was rooted to the spot by an amazing sight. Minimus had appeared in the courtyard from somewhere at the rear, and was jostling his way through the distinguished guests. He was acting in a most unslave-like manner, too – almost in danger of elbowing one fat young councillor aside.

  He saw me standing at the inner door and his face cleared at once. He wriggled out into the atrium and hurried up to me, oblivious to the fact that half the wealthy citizens of Glevum were staring after him.

  ‘Master,’ he blurted, not even waiting for me to give him leave to speak. ‘I think you’d better come. His Excellence would have sent for you, if he had been here himself, instead of being on his way to Rome – even if you hadn’t been invited as a guest. I told the chief steward so and managed to persuade him that I should come and look for you. He’s in no state to do anything himself. And someone must take over. There’s been an accident.’

  Three

  There was a dreadful hush in which I became uncomfortably aware that the eyes of the whole room were fixed on me. For a fraction of a moment no one moved at all. Then suddenly the gong boomed out again, and – as if it was a signal – an outraged murmur of whispering began.

  Then one voice rang out above the rest – a creaking high voice, like a wheel in want of oil – ‘What is the meaning of this disgrace, young man?’

  It was the grandmother. She rose to her feet and marched down from the dais, more like an ex-soldier than a woman in a gown. ‘And what do you mean, there’s been an accident? Don’t you realize that even to mention such a word is a terrible ill omen on a day like this?’ She seemed oblivious that her own voice rang out across the room so that – if there was an omen – she was redoubling it. She stood, arms folded, as if confronting us. ‘If there has been some kind of unfortunate event, it should be dealt with quietly in the servants’ room upstairs – not trumpeted in public to disturb the guests.’

  She gestured towards the company as she spoke, and at once the men at least began to turn away and talk in loud voices about other things, pretending – like the well-bred Roman citizens they were – not to have noticed anything amiss, though they had all been staring, goggle-eyed, till then.

  She noticed and lowered her voice into a hiss. ‘You have embarrassed us, young man. When we’ve taken such trouble to consult the auguries – and at such expense. It’s unforgivable. So kindly take your impudent young slave, and leave the house. Who are you anyway?’

  I had not realized till that moment that she was addressing me. Perhaps I should have guessed – she was not the sort of person who would waste her personal attention on a slave like Minimus – but it is a long time since anybody called me a ‘young man’, and longer still since anyone had rebuked me like a child. I am over fifty and, though this woman was my senior by ten years or so, we two were much the oldest people in the company. Her stinging onslaught took me so much by surprise that for a moment I could not find my tongue.

  Minimus answered for me, apologetically, ‘This is the citizen Libe—’

  She turned and rapped him smartly on the ear with the ivory handle of her folding vellum fan. ‘Silence, oaf! I was not asking you. If he’s too ill-bred to answer for himself, I will consult my page.’ She turned to the youngster. ‘Slave! Who is this . . . citizen?’ The sneering pause before the final word made it quite clear what her opinion was of my bedraggled toga and its presence in her house.

  The page looked sheepish. ‘Madam, excuse me, but I do not know. He was just about to tell me when his servant came.’ He flinched as if he expected an angry blow for this, and when none came he burbled on again. ‘I have not seen his invitation scroll because in fact I did not escort him in. I found him waiting outside the atrium.’

  She turned to me now, jabbing the fan handle almost in my face. ‘So, he was walking unaccompanied around my house, was he? And where did he get that silver platter from?’

  ‘Madam, it was a present from His Exc—’ I said, just as Minimus began to tug my sleeve.

  ‘Master, it really is important that you come. There’s no time to be lost.’

  This time the rap was very sharp indeed, and left a weal across my servant’s face. ‘Is there no limit to your insolence? I shall send for the household guard and have you flogged. And as for you . . .’ She glared at me. ‘I shall summon the doorman and see you are removed. I don’t know what my son Honorius will say when he learns of this intrusion on a day like this.’ She turned back to the page. ‘Where is your master, anyway? I thought he went out with the steward to select the banquet wines.’

  The boy looked sheepish. ‘Forgive me, lady, but again I do not know. I haven’t seen him since he sent me off to find the walnuts, a little time ago—’

  Minimus astounded me by breaking in again. ‘Your pardon, madam, but I know where he is.’ She turned to him, eyes flashing, but he persevered. ‘Let me give my message and you will understand. If Honorius is your son, then what I have to say concerns you very much. He was the victim of this accident. Two of his slaves have taken him and laid him on his bed.’

  The skin beneath the careful face paint paled visibly. ‘Great Mars! What accident was this? No, don’t answer now. Wait a minute!’ She turned to the invited guests, who had given up pretending and were listening openly. ‘Citizens and ladies,’ she said with dignity, ‘will you pardon me. A slight hitch has arisen, which I must attend to straight away. Please continue to talk among yourselves – and, slaves, you may begin to serve the sweetmeats now. Please forgive me, I shall not be long.’ As she spoke she shepherded us out into the hall, where she addressed us in an urgent undertone.

  ‘Now, then, what accident was this? And on his daughter’s wedding day, as well! What a dreadful portent! The guests will be distressed, and the bridegroom might cancel if he hears of it and we would lose a strong alliance with a wealthy family.’

  I gulped. I know that Roman society considers it good form to keep one’s private emotion under strict control, but her apparent lack of feeling quite astonished me. If I had heard such news about my adopted son, I would have insisted on being taken to his side at once, at the risk of offending Jupiter himself. She seemed less concerned about the welfare of her son than about the effect upon her guests.

  She was still frowning thoughtfully, and when Minimus made a sign as if he wished to speak, she silenced him with an imperious hand. ‘Do not interrupt me when I’m trying to think. I am deciding what it is best to do. My son is receiving good attention, I suppose?’

  Minimus had learnt his lesson with the fan. He contented himself this time with a nod.

&n
bsp; The woman inclined her own head, as if satisfied. ‘Then perhaps it need not come to cancellation after all. If we need a medicus, we will send for one. But we must act speedily. The bridegroom will be here, and somehow Honorius must be present then. We need his hand to sign the contract – though the dowry is arranged. What exactly happened? Is he seriously hurt?’ She turned to my servant. ‘Speak up, stupid boy!’

  Minimus looked demurely at his sandal straps. ‘The steward told me to say “accident”, as being more polite, though perhaps that does not quite describe it properly,’ he said. ‘It appears that your son was sampling the wine—’

  ‘You are not going to tell me that he sampled too much and contrived to have a fall?’ She shook her head. ‘My son Honorius would not do a thing like that. And he always takes wine watered, as I taught him to – even when he is simply tasting it.’

  Minimus replied simply, ‘Madam, I’m afraid that it is rather worse than that. Perhaps there was something the matter with the wine. Or possibly the water that he put into it. At all events he was taken very sick and almost collapsed on to the floor.’

  ‘Well, it can’t have been the water – that comes from our own well, and the whole household has been drinking from it half the day. But I don’t understand how it can have been the wine. That was delivered only this morning from the wine merchant. Oh! And here’s the very man that it was purchased from.’

  The sour-faced merchant and his wife had just appeared from the front door, looking even more sour than they’d looked earlier, and accompanied by the lugubrious doorkeeper himself.

  ‘A thousand pardons, Helena Domna,’ the attendant said, ‘but here is Lucianus Vinerius and his wife. I fear they have been kept waiting at the door for far too long . . .’

  Helena Domna – since that seemed to be her name – was scowling so much that he stopped and stared at her in some dismay. Then obviously sensing that something was amiss, he attempted to excuse what he had done. ‘I have been gonging for several minutes for a slave, but nobody has answered, so in the end I brought them in myself.’ There was still no answer and he hurried on. ‘But I must hasten back, if you’ll excuse me, citizens. There are shouts and cheers already in the street – I think the bridegroom’s procession must be almost here.’ And he bowed himself backwards down the passageway.

  Helena Domna watched him out of sight, and only then did she address the rest of us, though there was a sarcastic note in the cracked voice as she said, ‘Lucianus Vinerius – and Maesta too, of course. I am sincerely happy to find you here at last. I only wish the circumstances were happier, that’s all. It seems that my son Honorius has been taken ill, after tasting one of the new wines he bought from you. I’m sure you’d wish to be the first to know – and perhaps you have some suggestion as to what we should do now? We may require a medicus to find an antidote, no doubt you would be anxious to assist us with the cost?’ There was no question about it, she was half-threatening them.

  Vinerius looked wary. ‘Taken ill?’ he said.

  Minimus stepped forward. ‘Very ill indeed, from what I understand. One minute he was talking to the steward in the court, and the next he had turned pale and collapsed on to a stool. Someone came up to the slaves’ room with the news, and we all went running down. By the time I got there his speech was very slurred and he was seeing imaginary things.’

  The wine merchant exchanged glances with his wife, a look which said as clearly as if he’d uttered it aloud, That sounds like simple drunkenness. Then Vinerius spoke. ‘What sort of things? Pink hippogriffs, I suppose?’

  Minimus raised his eyes and looked at him steadily. ‘He seemed to be seeing people who were dead, or so the steward said. Somebody called Miles – I think I heard that name. But that was not the worst. A moment later he said his legs were numb. His face turned crimson and he was retching hard. The steward fetched a feather to start him vomiting, but Honorius was almost fainting on his feet, and stumbling so much it took three servants to escort him to his room. They are still at his bedside looking after him.’

  Helena Domna drew in a swift, shocked breath but it was Vinerius who spoke. ‘Nonsense, boy. It would take a whole amphora to make a man so sick – and it would have to be taken undiluted too. Honorius would never drink to such excess – certainly not on an important occasion like today. It’s the kind of bad behaviour he would not tolerate!’

  Helena Domna shook her head. ‘Then perhaps this boy was right. There must have been a problem with the wine. Thank Jupiter we hadn’t yet served it to the guests – or we should have been accused of attempted poisoning. Don’t shake your head Vinerius – it could only be your merchandise that brought all this about, Honorius was perfectly all right when he left the atrium. I spoke to him myself, just after we had the message about the walnuts, earlier.’

  ‘And when he sent me to fetch them, he was his normal self,’ the little page piped up. I had almost forgotten that he was standing there. ‘Whatever happened, it was very fast.’

  Vinerius gave him a baleful glare and cleared his throat. It was clear that he was seriously worried now. ‘Helena Domna, I am desolated by this news. But I assure you it was nothing to do with my goods at all. It would take an amazingly strong drink to cause intoxication of that kind so soon – some rough and undiluted home-made brew perhaps – and there was certainly nothing like that in the batch I sent today. They were splendid, most expensive wines – the finest that I have – part of a shipment that arrived from Rome a day or two ago. I personally sampled each variety and invited Honorius and his wife to my humble table so that he could do the same. That was the basis on which he made his choice.’

  Helena Domna’s thin nose had turned as scarlet as her face was pale. ‘And is it not possible that one amphora failed, and there was contamination of the wine inside?’

  She had a point. Vinerius countered it. ‘That has been known to happen – even with fine wines. Doubtless that’s why he was testing each of them – but there couldn’t be anything that would have this effect. The wine might taste a little peculiar, that’s all. And of course – if that proves to be the case and he sends it back to me, I will replace it instantly and refund the cost. But I’m sure the goods I sent to him were sound.’

  Helena Domna gave him a mirthless smile. ‘Then you will do me the favour of testing them yourself, since you are so confident of their quality. Even if Honorius is too ill to appear we shall have to offer something to our invitees, especially if they are denied a wedding and a feast. I should hate to cause illness among our other guests. But you are confident . . .?’ There was a painful moment. I saw him hesitate.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I said suddenly. ‘This may not be simply a problem with the batch. You spoke of attempted poisoning a little while ago. Vomiting and weakness and numbness of the legs? You don’t suppose it might be . . . aconite?’ It was such a bizarre suggestion that I almost hesitated to express it, and they were all staring at me as though I were deranged.

  ‘Poison?’ Helena Domna was incredulous. ‘In wine intended for a wedding feast? That is nonsensical. Who could possibly want to do a thing like that? And why? One couldn’t know who’d drink it – it might make everybody ill. And, more particularly, how could it occur? The wine was only delivered this morning at the house.’

  ‘Someone might have tampered with an amphora since, I suppose,’ Vinerius was positively anxious to approve my reasoning. ‘Some sort of enemy of the family, perhaps? There must be lots of strangers in the house today.’

  His stout wife nodded. ‘And the citizen is right. Those could be symptoms of wolfsbane poisoning. If so, poor Honorius needs treatment urgently. Salt water to make him vomit and purge the poison out, and mallow and crowsfoot as an antidote. I make a few decoctions, I could go and fetch them now . . . there wouldn’t be a charge.’ She caught her husband’s eye. ‘Or Honorius can add it to the wine bill later on . . .’

  But the warning head shake had not been about the price. Her husband had seen the da
nger in her babbling and Helena Domna voiced the thought – which had occurred to me as well. ‘So you make decoctions, do you? And the wine was at your store until they brought it here. How remarkable. My son might have some questions to ask you later on, when he has recovered from this unfortunate event. Why, what is it, steward?’

  The last words were uttered to an imposing slave who had come the other way, through the side door from the rear – a tall, strong rather handsome man, in a gold-edged tunic and an over-robe which marked him as a servant of some seniority. I recognized the steward that I’d dealt with earlier. I’d thought him impressive, when I’d met him then, but now he was wringing his big hands together in a helpless way, and there was an expression which looked like abject panic on his face. He stood there looking between Minimus and me, as if somehow between us we had let him down, then turned to Helena Domna with a look of pure despair.

  ‘Mistress, I don’t know how to tell you. It’s a dreadful thing. My master, Honorius – he won’t be asking questions of anyone again. And the wedding must be cancelled. He can’t sign anything. The fact is, mistress . . . I’m afraid he’s dead.’

  Four

  Honorius’s mother had no need of face-chalk now. The skin under the white coating had turned as pale as ice, and the colour with which she’d tinged her lips and cheeks looked even more bizarrely artificial than before.

  She was clearly shaken, and for a moment I expected an embarrassing display – a rending of garments and beating of the breast, perhaps, accompanied by a theatrically ululating wail. There is a tradition in Roman families, that the death of a member of the household – particularly an honoured eldest son – calls for some such public outpouring of grief.

  But Helena Domna was made of sterner stuff. She was a Roman patrician to the core and – in front of mere tradesman like Vinerius and myself – obviously knew how to impose strict self-control. The only outward sign that she had heard at all was a tiny tightening of the corners of her mouth and an involuntary loosening of her fingers on the fan, which fell with a little clatter on the floor. In the sudden silence it sounded very loud.