The vestal vanishes lmorb-12 Page 8

  Lavinius scowled, but signalled his reluctant agreement with a nod and led the way back through the gate towards the house, though he made a point of taking Publius on ahead and talking to him in an undertone, making certain that I could not hear and leaving me to trail behind them with the remaining page.

  In the colonnaded garden Publius stopped and turned to me. I was warming to this patrician more and more by now. He may have forced me to a bargain which I could ill afford but this was clearly not the outcome of ill-will — simply the failure of a hugely wealthy man to understand how much a hundred aureii seemed to humbler folk.

  He illustrated the gulf between us by his next words, too. They were addressed to Lavinius but they were meant for me to hear, and once again seemed an attempt to help. ‘About accommodation, is it not the case that Marcus has a second town-house in Corinium? Given his very high opinion of his protege, surely he would not object to Libertus staying there?’

  In fact I knew my patron would be appalled at the idea. The place was shut up when he was not there, with only a handful of slaves to keep it clean and aired. Besides, I am a simple tradesman, not a Roman patrician. It is true that I did stay at his country villa once, when I was ill and he required my services, but I am not the class of guest he usually invites. The notion of my simply arriving at his Corinium town-house unannounced, demanding food and somewhere warm to sleep, was quite unthinkable.

  How could I explain this to a man like Publius? I shook my head and followed him inside as a smirking Fiscus held open the door of the atrium for us, smiling at his erstwhile master and ignoring me.

  ‘Respected eminence,’ I muttered to Publius, once I was in the room, ‘I am a citizen of very humble rank, and though my patron is very kind to me I could not presume upon him in this way. The house is closed and providing hospitality for me — or any unexpected guest — might be difficult. In any case the servants do not know me there and, without a letter from His Excellence himself, I doubt that they would even let me in.’

  The atrium was full of flowers and scented oil, and servants were already setting a pair of fine carved stools — one ebony, one ivory — on each side of the little table by the wall. Publius seemed to take this as his right, and sat down on the nearer one, saying with a smile, ‘Would it help if I wrote a letter to the house myself.’

  ‘What would be really helpful,’ I said urgently, crouching on a lower footstool which Fiscus pointedly had set for me, ‘would be for me to stay at the lodging-house where Audelia stayed last night and where she changed coaches with Lavinia. I might learn something very helpful there.’

  Lavinius had already settled on the ebony chair, dropping his cloak where the slave would pick it up and said, with a sneer, ‘They would not take a stranger they did not expect — they require a letter sent on in advance — that is the very reason that we chose their services. It keeps out the common class of travellers.’

  A thoughtful frown crossed Publius’s pudgy face. ‘Suppose I wrote a letter to them, instead, explaining who I was, and gave it to Libertus to carry to the house. I am quite sure they would admit him then.’

  Fiscus expressed his evident disdain by raising one eyebrow at Lavinius, but our host did not respond. He turned to the house-slave who was already at his side with a silver salver piled with cheese and grapes: I would wager the hundred aureii that these would not be sour. Lavinius selected one and signalled for some wine, before remarking smoothly, ‘The pavement-maker said he had no money for an inn, I think. And this one is not cheap.’

  Publius selected a piece of proffered cheese. ‘I was prepared to offer a reward — or even pay a ransom — for Audelia’s return. I daresay I can undertake to pay for this. I will stop there and settle matters personally, on my way back to Londinium. Perhaps I could even stay there overnight myself, instead of using the military inns as I did on my way here. Courtesy of the provincial governor, of course.’ He smiled at me. ‘Of course, if Libertus is successful in his search, I will have my bride with me by then. So, Lavinius, if you would arrange a wax writing-block for me — or a sheet of bark-paper and some ink — I will compose a note. I have a seal-ring, if you have some wax. Fiscus can fetch the materials, perhaps, if your slaves are-’

  He broke off as Modesta came rushing in, aghast. ‘Master.’ She flung herself breathless at her owner’s feet. ‘Your pardon, master, for disturbing you. There is a man on horseback here, whom I think that you should see.’

  Lavinius made a lofty gesture with his long thin hand. ‘Doubtless one of the early banquet guests.’ He turned to Publius with a knowing smile. ‘This isn’t Rome, you know. A lot of humbler people don’t have water-clocks or well-positioned sundials, even now. Sometimes people find it very hard to judge the hour — especially if they know good wine awaits them here.’

  Publius responded with the expected laugh, but Modesta did not smile. ‘But Master, it isn’t you that he is asking for. He insists he wants Audelia — no one else will do — and he won’t believe me when I say she isn’t here.’

  The two patricians exchanged a startled glance, then Lavinius said sternly, ‘Show the fellow in.’ Modesta hurried off to do as she was told.

  Publius put his cup down, half-troubled, half-relieved. ‘This must be a contact from the kidnappers. Or perhaps it is a trick. Do you think, Libertus…?’

  I never heard the rest, because at that moment the slave-girl reappeared, accompanied by one of the most enormous men I’d ever seen.

  NINE

  This newcomer was perhaps not quite as old as I am, but certainly he was no longer young. All the same his presence filled the room. He was not simply hugely tall, he was big and muscular, with a neck that was almost wider than his head and massive thighs like the trunks of well-grown trees. His arms were brawny and in one gigantic hand he held a ridiculously dainty leather bag, which made his fingers look enormous by comparison. His short-cropped head was rounder than an earthen cooking pot and his face, which was baked to terracotta in the sun, was weather-etched with lines. He wore big boots, a yellow tunic and a heavy riding-cape. Modesta had said he was a horseman. I found myself feeling a little sorry for the horse.

  He looked around the atrium and acknowledged the presence of our togas with a bow. ‘Greetings, citizens.’ He made another vague obeisance towards all three of us, as if two of the company were not marked out by patrician purple stripes. ‘Which of you gentlemen is the master of the house?’ His eyes were small and darting and I saw that he was missing several of his teeth. Not a man I’d care to argue with.

  Lavinius stepped forward, all cold authority. ‘I am Lavinius, the paterfamilias of this household and the uncle of that Audelia whom — it seems — you seek. She is not here, as I believe you have already been informed. However, in her absence you may speak to me. What is your business here?’

  The rider’s tanned face split in an astonished grin. He would have been ugly, even with the teeth, and the crinkles of amusement creased his wrinkled face still more. ‘I don’t think you can help me this time, citizen. I was sent to bring her these. I don’t think they would fit you particularly well.’ He opened the drawstring of the bag and brought out a pair of yellow wedding shoes, which he dangled by the laces between one finger and a thumb as though they had no weight.

  I could see at once what Puella, the missing slave, had meant. They were the most beautiful slippers I have ever seen, the soft dyed leather cut into an intricate design of flowers and butterflies. The colour was extremely delicate and the soles and lacing so beautifully fine that the whole seemed worthy of an empress or a queen. They had not been worn, so the donor who had given them as an offering to the Vestal at the shrine must not only have paid a handsome price for them but somehow contrived to have them specially made to fit Audelia. No wonder the bride-to-be had been keen to show them off.

  It was clear to me by now who this intruder was. ‘So you are the mounted guard who escorted Audelia to Corninium?’ I said at once, though it really was
not my place to interview the man. Publius looked at me, much as my slaves had looked at the magician in the town, as if I had produced a ribbon from my ear.

  The horseman grinned. ‘All the way from the Vestal temple, citizen. Escorting people is my trade these days. Retired auxiliary cavalryman Ascus at your service, gentlemen.’

  Lavinius coughed, to indicate that he was in command. ‘Retired, but not a citizen? How did that come about? Did you not get your citizen’s diploma when you left the cavalry?’

  Ascus shook his pot-shaped head. ‘Took a wound, and had to leave the force before I’d served my term. Nineteen years, instead of twenty-five. But I used my pay-out to obtain a horse — as you can see — and when I had recovered, I made another life. So here I am. Armed and ready to fend off robbers on the road.’ He looped his other massive thumb and finger through his belt, pushing the cloak back to reveal the cudgel at his side. ‘Of course I am only a civilian now, so it is illegal for me to carry a sword or dagger on the road. But a simple bludgeon is usually enough to deter would-be thieves and attackers on the road.’

  I could imagine that. If I were a bandit, that cudgel — in his hands — would certainly have dissuaded me.

  Lavinius though, was scowling at all this. ‘But not this time, it seems. Do I understand that at Corinium you abandoned my poor niece?’

  The massive shoulders shrugged. ‘I am a hireling, citizen. I do as I am told. She hired me in the first place and I was at her command. She sent me back to get the shoes she’d left behind — and I have done so, as you can see yourself. I told her it was foolish to go on alone — not in so many words, you understand — but she would not listen. She’s a determined lady, as no doubt you know, and she wanted her slippers for her wedding day. Said that the goddess Vesta would protect her; Vesta and that idiot of a driver who brought Lavinia to the lodging house.’ He looked around. ‘Did she not tell you this? I thought I’d find her waiting and impatient for her shoes, but I suppose she was weary and has retired to rest. Not surprising really, jolting all that way in such a springless cart. Still, she promised to reward me if I got here before the feast, so one of the servants had better take these up to her.’ He put the slippers back into the bag and held them out.

  No one moved to take them.

  For the first time Ascus looked discomfited. ‘Well, surely somebody should tell her that they have arrived? Not that she’ll be specially impressed, I don’t expect, though I have ridden like the hounds of Dis to get them here in time.’ He thrust the bag towards Lavinius. ‘It wasn’t easy following her directions to this place, either. Several times, I had to stop and ask the way.’

  Lavinius snatched the leather bag and glared at him. ‘So you haven’t heard what happened to my niece? When your famous bludgeon was not there to help?’

  The giant looked at him. The smile had vanished, but the creases in the face deepened even more. ‘She had some misfortune when I wasn’t there? She surely wasn’t set upon and robbed?’ He struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘Dear Mars! I knew it was stupid to let her go alone. They took her jewels, I suppose? Great Jupiter, mightiest and best! She promised me reward — a very handsome jet and garnet ring she had with her — and now I suppose I won’t get paid at all.’

  Publius got to his feet, impatiently. ‘Never mind the jewels, my friend, the bride herself has gone — apparently kidnapped from the raeda on the way. And her maidservant has disappeared as well.’ He glared at Ascus, whose mouth had dropped open in astonishment. ‘I wonder they didn’t tell you all this at the gate.’

  ‘They wouldn’t tell me anything at all. I almost had to force my way inside, before the gatekeeper would call the slave and have her announce to you that I was here.’

  The idea that the unhelpful gatekeeper had met his match was enough to make me smile. Publius rounded on me instantly.

  ‘You think that this is somehow comical?’

  ‘I was simply thinking, respected citizen,’ I said quickly (I did not wish to lose the best support I had), ‘that the arrival of this rider makes things easier. He is a guard by trade. He can accompany us to Corinium and if we find no information there tonight, tomorrow he can take us to where Audelia left the shoes. I’m very anxious to ask questions of the household there.’

  Lavinius frowned. ‘What point is there in that?’

  I had forgotten that he had not heard the full story of the shoes. ‘I suspect the loss of the wedding shoes was no mere accident — I believe that they were deliberately taken from her box, precisely in order to divert the guard.’

  Publius looked surprised. ‘I expect you’re right. She had mentioned in a letter to her aunt that she had been given wedding shoes. I wondered at her neglecting to take care of them. If you don’t find Audelia by tomorrow, either at the stopping-place or at the private lodgings in Corinium, of course you must go and find this other house. And Ascus is the perfect man to take you there. He has been there before, so he knows where it is — and he will be known to them so they will let you in. And if you discover anything, he can bring us word at once. A single horseman can even ride by night, if he takes care.’

  Ascus flashed a look of concentrated hate in my direction. Not surprisingly, I thought. The man had been riding since daybreak as it was, and was no doubt hoping for a well-earned rest, but my intervention meant that he would now have to set off again. Hardly a recipe for making friends. Yet I needed his co-operation.

  I tried to think of some way I could repair the fault. ‘Revered Lavinius,’ I ventured, turning to my host who was looking furious at this whole affair. ‘Would you consent to send this horseman to the servants’ hall and have him given some refreshment there?’

  Publius applauded this at once. ‘He will be in want of something, naturally — and a fresh horse as well if you can spare it, Lavinius my friend. Ascus can retrieve his own mount when he comes back here again. The creature that he came on will be tired by now. It must have covered many miles today and speed is essential if we hope to find my bride. The sun is in the west and there is much to do. Lavinius, I’m sure you have something in your stable that will serve.’

  Another shrewd suggestion, I thought inwardly. That would certainly ensure that Ascus did return and not simply vanish when he had the chance. But Lavinius’s expression, which he directed straight at me, was now as venomous as the rider’s glance had been. He was clearly furious that he was asked to lend a horse. But he gave a curt nod to his slave, ‘See to it, page.’

  ‘Instantly, master.’ The boy set off at once. He was halfway to the door, when his owner called him back.

  ‘Not so quickly, you worthless son of a washerwoman. Wait till I have finished speaking or I will have you whipped. Take this horseman with you, and see that he is fed. And find out what has happened to that idle steward, too.’

  ‘At once, master,’ the young unfortunate replied. ‘This way, horseman,’ and he led Ascus out.

  Lavinius opened the leather bag again and took the slippers out. ‘What should I do with these? Are they nefas — accursed — do you think?’

  Publius took them from him and murmured with a smile, ‘But of course we must keep them till Audelia is returned. And the pavement-maker here is going to rescue her. Is that not so, Libertus?’

  I gave a pallid smile. ‘I will do my best. But there is one thing that rather troubles me. If Audelia has been seized for ransom, why have we not heard? You would expect her captors to send us their demands. But there has been no word.’

  ‘If she was captured where the raeda stopped,’ Lavinius said, dismissively, turning back to the tray of dainties, ‘the kidnappers would scarcely have had time to contact us. They may, indeed, have simply let her go, when they discovered who their victim was. The penalties for laying hands upon a Vestal are so terrible, they may have wished to wash their hands of it. In that case, no doubt, she will come here soon enough.’ He picked out another tasty morsel of the cheese and popped it fastidiously into his mouth. ‘She is
a woman of some determination in her way. It is even possible she has refused to tell the bandits where to send.’

  I doubted this. Any kidnapper would have methods of compelling her to speak, methods which I did not care to think about.

  But Publius was already saying, with a smile, ‘I know that you still believe that this is an accident — mere chance meeting with highway robbers on the road. But Libertus seems to think that this was all a plan, and the kidnappers were well aware of who she was. I trust that he is right. It would mean that they expect that we will ransom her, in which case we can hope she’s still alive.’ He turned to me. ‘Who do you suspect of planning this?’ he asked.

  ‘The person I would like to talk to is her maidservant,’ I hedged. ‘She was with the raeda when it got to the gates, and only disappeared when it had stopped. Yet it’s by no means certain that Audelia got that far. I’m quite convinced the missing slippers were taken from the box, either by the maidservant or by someone else. She could lead us to the truth, I am convinced of that.’

  Publius nodded. ‘If they knew about the slippers, they knew she was to wed.’ He frowned. ‘Although it was never publicly announced. It was to be a sensational surprise when I announced our betrothal at the games. Your idea, I think, Lavinius.’

  I’d already wondered whose suggestion it had been. But all I said was, ‘And it seems that someone also knew her route and when she would be passing. Which suggests it must be somebody she knows?’

  Lavinius snorted in his cup, derisively. ‘Well, it wasn’t one of us, if that is what you are trying to suggest. Publius and I were at the birthday feast, and Cyra and the house-slaves have been here all the time — and there are dozens of witnesses to that.’

  Publius paused in the act of sampling the wine. He was looking troubled. ‘Besides, if it were a member of the family, Audelia would recognize her captors, wouldn’t she? That would be no use.’