The vestal vanishes lmorb-12 Read online

  I boggled. ‘You come from my patron, do I understand?’

  He nodded. ‘Indeed. His Excellence was looking for you at the games. He sent his other attendants out to search for you — there and at the entrance of the temple in the forum too — but you could not be found. In the end he sent me rushing over here, hoping I could catch you before you left the town. I am simply grateful that I was not too late — I was only given to His Excellence today, a gift from my previous owner, Publius, and I would not have wanted to fail in my first task.’

  ‘And that was?’

  ‘To find you and bring you back to him. Your patron requires you to attend on him at once. He’s waiting at the games.’

  THREE

  I was escorted swiftly through the town — remarkable how the crowds stood back to let us through once they caught sight of my attendant’s dress. My escort said nothing until we reached the entrance of the amphitheatre where the games were being held — they had already started, by the sound of it.

  However, Marcus was not waiting for me inside in the official stand, as I had half-expected, but in a covered litter outside the entrance-way. It had been set down on the wide convenient stone block, where litter-bearers sometimes assisted their plumper fares to mount, though there were no bearers visible today. My patron was sitting in the carrying-chair with the drapes pulled back, and as soon as he saw us approach he motioned me to come.

  ‘Libertus, old friend, there you are at last. We’ve been looking everywhere.’ He extended a ringed hand for me to kiss. ‘Where did you find him, Fiscus?’

  ‘At the southern gate on his way home, as you suggested, Excellence.’ The man replied, making an obeisance.

  ‘Were you really not proposing to attend the games?’ My patron frowned at me. I was on my knees before him by this time of course, and I was about to answer but he waved my words aside. ‘But never mind all that. Come into the litter. I have something to discuss — something of great importance to the colonia. Fiscus, help him in and then you can keep watch. Move back a pace or two and keep the crowds away. I don’t want this conversation overheard.’

  The young man was looking quite astonished by all this — the idea that my wealthy patron should address me as ‘old friend’ and invite me to share his litter was clearly quite a shock. It would have been amusing if I had not known that this open friendliness was almost certainly the prelude to some importunate request: Marcus is always gracious when he wants my services — though I would be happier if he paid in cash rather than in compliments. (This is not ingratitude. Working for my patron is apt to take much time and prevent me from pursuing my usual livelihood, but Marcus is famously careful with his wealth and refuses to ‘insult’ me by offering me gold. However, when His Excellence suggests that you might serve him in some way, declining to do so is not conducive to one’s health.)

  Besides, I told myself, there are often other sorts of recompense, though usually ones which do not cost him anything: my two slaves for instance, had come to me this way. So I smiled with an appearance of good grace and climbed into the chair beside him as proposed.

  It was rather cramped in there — most litters are designed to carry one man at a time, and it was hard to squeeze into the space at all, let alone to keep my head below my patron’s all the time, as etiquette required. However I managed to insinuate myself into the gap between his feet by kneeling rather uncomfortably on the floor. Marcus drew the drapes so that we were curtained off from view.

  ‘Libertus, something very unexpected and dreadful has occurred. It almost made Publius decide to stop the games, but that would have been disrespectful to the Emperor, so we have decided that they should go ahead. He has gone in to start them, as though all was well, but you’ll never guess what’s happened.’

  I could not resist it. ‘His bride has disappeared.’

  Marcus looked at me — rather as Maximus had looked at the magician in the street — with admiring disbelief. ‘It seems she has been kidnapped. But how do you know that?’

  ‘I heard it in the forum,’ I answered, truthfully, suggesting by my tone that I was always well-informed.

  He was not impressed by this. Indeed, he began to tap his baton against his leg, which was an indication that he was irritated and dismayed, and his tone was sharp and fretful. ‘I don’t understand how that could come about. I hope the time it took to find you does not mean we are too late. If news of this should get around the town it might call the temple sacrifice into disrepute: that would look like a bad augury and what would the Emperor have to say to that? Yet you claim it’s common gossip?’

  I hastened to retract. ‘Well not exactly that. I happened to be talking to a stall-keeper. He had a stall of palm-fronds near the entrance to the temple enclosure, and he chanced to overhear the message brought to Publius.’

  Marcus frowned again. ‘You could identify the man? We’ll have him taken into custody — this information must not be allowed to spread. I had supposed that we were safe. It is not general knowledge among the populace that Publius was even intending to be wed.’

  I blanched, remembering my stupid pride at knowing something other men did not and the blithe way in which I had passed on the news myself. ‘It may be a little late to call the rumour back,’ I said, not mentioning my own part in it of course. ‘If I have heard it, others will have done. If you try to silence gossip, you will make it worse. Better probably to let the matter rest — if they hear no more about it people will simply assume the stories were not true, or else were exaggerated as most rumours are.’

  My words were interrupted by a loud roar from the crowd in the amphitheatre. No doubt some Thracian fighter had put up a good display.

  I saw my patron’s eager glance towards the sound and I ventured a diplomatic effort to excuse myself and go. ‘It was a good move, for instance, to continue with the games,’ I said. ‘But will your absence not be a matter of remark?’

  He fidgeted. ‘Perhaps you’re right. I should go back inside and be conspicuous and we’ll allow this public gossip to die down naturally. But that makes this matter more confidential than before, which will doubtless make your urgent task more difficult.’

  ‘My task, Excellence?’ I felt my throat go dry. I had supposed that I had fulfilled my role by offering advice.

  He smiled impatiently. ‘But naturally, I have promised Publius that you would find the girl. Or woman, I suppose that I should say, since he has chosen to marry someone of advancing years.’

  ‘But Excellence,’ I bleated, ‘how can I do that? I’ve never seen this Vestal — and since she has been in the temple thirty years, I don’t imagine many people could describe her very well. Even her family will have no portrait of her face and even if they did, surely as a Vestal she’ll have travelled in a veil, as any modest Roman matron would have done? Nobody could swear that they had seen her on the way, or pick her out if they saw her in a crowd. I understand that Publius went to look for her himself, but I gather from your words that even he did not succeed and he is a man of wealth and influence. If he can’t find her how on earth can I?’

  ‘I leave that up to you.’ He gave a fleeting smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a way. You’ve done such things before.’

  I tried to protest that this was different. I didn’t know the woman or the man concerned (they did not even know each other, it appeared), both of them were strangers to the town, and the kidnapping — if that was what it was — had not happened here. But Marcus brushed aside such trivial complaints.

  ‘It cannot be as difficult as you pretend, old friend. She was seen this morning by lots of witnesses — according to the carriage-driver, anyway — and the carriage did not stop until it reached the city-gate. So she was either seized immediately before she left Corinium, or smuggled from the carriage as soon as it reached here. As long as you find her in a day or two — before Publius has to leave — I’m sure you’ll find the bridegroom generous in his gratitude.’

  I felt my throa
t go dry. Not only was I commanded to find the missing bride, but I was expected to do so in just ‘a day or two’. However, I was not in a position to refuse so I said, resignedly, ‘Very well, Excellence. I have no hopes of this, but — as ever — I am at your command. If you wish me to, I’ll go straight in and speak to Publius.’ At least it would give my poor numb feet a rest, I thought. My legs were almost dead with kneeling by this time. I started to get out.

  Marcus’s firm grasp on my arm prevented me. ‘But of course you can’t do that. The populace would see. This whole enquiry will have to be discreet.’

  ‘So I’ll have to wait until the games are over, Excellence? Obviously I must speak to Publius and I thought you wanted me to make a start at once?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ The baton was tapping on the leg again. ‘I suppose I can tell you what Publius told me — that might give you somewhere to begin…’ He broke off as his words were drowned out by another cheer. ‘Though I cannot be long. The fights are underway, and my absence will be noted, if I linger here.’

  I was as keen to move as he was. ‘What did Publius say?’

  Marcus was distracted — it was evident that his mind was already on the games — but he did his best. ‘When he got the message, he went outside the gate — the north one, which links up with the east road to Londinium — and met the carriage-driver who was waiting there and who, of course, had sent the messenger.’

  I nodded to show that I had understood.

  ‘The fellow was almost inarticulate with fear, but he claims he saw the Vestal into the coach himself and did not know that she was missing till he drew up outside the town. It took him only minutes to secure the horse, he says, but when he went to help her down he found that she was gone — together with her attendant and her dowry box. Of course he sent for Publius at once and also contacted the woman’s family — but they sent a slave to say that she was not with them. They were not expecting her until the feast was finished here.’

  ‘After Publius had presented her in public as his prospective bride?’

  ‘Exactly. The father of the family was here in Glevum, at the rites himself, but the rest of the household had remained at home and was preparing for the wedding later on today — but they had heard nothing from the Vestal.’

  ‘Or from her kidnappers? One might have expected a ransom note by now.’

  ‘That is what worried Publius most of all. He fears it may have been a bandit robbery, he said.’

  I knew what that implied. The penalty for robbery on the public road is crucifixion, ruthlessly applied, so victims of banditry are usually found dead — thus ensuring that they cannot testify. ‘So the bride may be in danger if he does not find her soon?’

  ‘Exactly. But where was Publius to look? He does not know the town. He found the paterfamilias — who was among the official guests of course and was walking to the games — and alerted him, and they came to find me quietly and ask me what I thought.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘I spoke most highly of your abilities, and obviously since Publius is a guest of mine…’

  I said nothing and went on saying it.

  He made a helpless little gesture with his hands. ‘You know, of course, that he’s been very generous? Not only the sacrificial bull and birthday games, but he’s promising to fund another fountain and some drains. And he gave me Fiscus as a gift. Under the circumstances…’ He gave my arm a pat. ‘I rely on you, Libertus.’ And to my astonishment, he pulled the drapes aside and gestured to Fiscus to assist him down.

  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 ch
air, 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.