A Bitter Chill (15 page)

Read A Bitter Chill Online

Authors: Jane Finnis

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Historical, #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General

And so, of course, I agreed that we would try to find Candidus and bring him to talk to his father. What else could I do? As I left his room, I reflected that every time I had a conversation with Plautius, I ended up being forced into some course of action I’d rather not undertake.

Albia was in the bar-room with Margarita. She was flushed and furious, and as I entered I heard the words “obscene old harpy,” so I guessed she was speaking her mind about Lady Sempronia.

“What’s up, Albia?” I settled myself down by the fire. “As if I couldn’t guess. You’ve had a bad meeting with her ladyship?”

“She tried to buy me off! Can you believe it? She offered me money if I’d give up Candidus. That’s
after
she’d tried threatening me, saying that her nephew the Governor could always find ways of dealing with ‘people of your sort’. The cheek of it! I told her, ‘I’m a Roman citizen, a centurion’s daughter, and I’m well aware of my rights. I’m sure the Governor is too.’ So then she tried bribery. She actually thought all she had to do was offer me a few gold pieces, and I’d walk away from the man I love!”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

“And finally she said that she’d forbidden the marriage, and it would take place over her dead body. I tell you, Relia, it was all I could do not to say that I’ll be happy to see her dead body, if it means I can marry Candidus!”

Once the guests had eaten, Albia and I took our own food—cold pork, vegetables, and a jug of Rhodian—into the bar-room, and Margarita and Gaius joined us for supper. The boy ate very little, having, as his mother said, made a piglet of himself in the kitchen. He soon fell fast asleep on the rug in front of the fire, and we chatted comfortably. Margarita was pleasant company, and the more I saw of her the more I liked her. But I urgently wanted a private talk with Albia, and I racked my brains for a ruse to get our watch-dog out of the way for a space.

Eventually she put down her knife and said, “Aurelia, Lord Plautius told me what happened to Idmon, but he warned me to be discreet about it, so I didn’t say anything in front of the others. I just want you to know that
I
don’t think you two tried to kill him. It’s a ridiculous idea.”

“Thank you, that’s a relief. But I can’t deny it must look suspicious, from Plautius’ point of view.” I helped myself to more leeks and carrots, and passed round the dish.

Margarita wiped her plate clean with a piece of bread. “Plautius has talked about secret enemies before. I’m afraid we all thought it was just a case of an old sick man with an over-active imagination. He must feel vulnerable, being so ill and away from home. Only now I wish we’d taken it more seriously.”

I finished my meat and helped myself to some walnuts, cracking them in my hand the way we did as children. “The guard Idmon can’t have thought there was any danger. He felt safe enough to fall sound asleep in his master’s nice comfortable room.”

“At least it wasn’t Timaeus who was killed,” she said. “Or maybe if he’d been there in Lord Plautius’ place, he’d have stayed awake and caught the murderer.”

“Timaeus? How do you mean?”

“This isn’t the first time Plautius has put a decoy in his bed. He’s done it on several nights, especially lately. The slaves take it in turns. Idmon, a couple of the other guards, and even Diogenes once, though he made an awful fuss about it. Last night Timaeus had volunteered, but because Lord Plautius felt so ill after the journey here, Idmon took over.”

Albia passed round the bowl of nuts. “There’s no more we can do now. Let’s just relax and enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. Margarita, are you and Gaius staying over in our part of the mansio tonight, or does Plautius trust us not to make a run for it when everyone’s asleep?”

She smiled. “He didn’t exactly say what’s to happen tonight, but I think I can risk leaving you alone over here, don’t you? We’re all putting you to enough trouble already, and Sempronia will expect me to sleep near her.”

That’s something, I thought, taking care not to look too pleased. “Whatever you think best. Is it still snowing?” I got up and opened the big main door, letting in a draught of cold air which made Gaius stir, half-awake on his rug. The storm had spent itself, and it was a still, starry night now, with a sliver of moon reflecting off the white ground. I shut the door again, and crossed the room to the fire. As I sat down, the hall door opened, and Diogenes entered. His sharp eyes focused on Margarita.

“My lady sent me to fetch you, Margarita.”

Margarita sighed and got to her feet. “I’ll come, if she’s sent for me, though it’s too early to go to bed yet. She wants me in her sitting-room, presumably?”

He smiled at her, like a crocodile surveying a trapped fisherman. “No. I’m to escort you to your room. Now.”

“That’s not possible,” I cut in. I’d caught the fleeting look of panic in her eyes, and it made me angry. It was only too obvious what was in his mind. It was equally clear that Margarita wanted none of it.

“Margarita is sleeping over in our part of the house tonight.” I looked the Weasel straight in the eye.

“Oh? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. Is this true, Margarita?”

“Yes, it is. My lord told me to stay here till tomorrow.”

“I thought everybody knew,” I continued. “Those are Lord Plautius’ strict instructions.”

“She’s supposed to be keeping watch,” Albia added, “in case we decide to run away.” She managed a cheery laugh. “Yes, I know it’s hardly likely in this weather, but there it is, we all have to do as we’re told, don’t we? If you take her away now, we’ll
all
be in trouble with his lordship.”

He didn’t miss the emphasis on “all”. “Lady Sempronia will be displeased,” he threatened.

I produced an unanswerable winning throw of the dice. “Perhaps we’d better check with his lordship, Margarita, in case there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. We’ll all have to go and see him, as we’ve got to stay together, so will you come with us, Diogenes?”

“No, if my lord has spoken, there’s an end of it.” His deferential mask, which he hadn’t bothered assuming for us, was back in place for a few heartbeats, but then it slipped again, and he cast a sulky look at Margarita. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“All right.”

“You’ll make sure Lady Sempronia knows that Margarita is with us tonight?” I said, in what Albia likes to call my “honey-sweet” tone. “And tomorrow morning as well, at least until Chief Councillor Silvanius gets here. I don’t know when that will be exactly. I hope he comes early, so Albia and I can get over to the Oak Bridges market in the morning. If we delay too long, all the best stuff will have gone.”

“Oh, a market, eh?” Diogenes laughed softly, as if this was some private joke. “You’d better take young Gaius with you. He’ll enjoy that. Won’t you, my lad? A nice trip to the market tomorrow?”

To my astonishment, Gaius let out a heart-rending wail.

“You’ve done it now,” Diogenes remarked. “Sweet dreams, Gaius!” He banged the door behind him as the boy’s howls grew louder.

Margarita picked him up in her arms and sat down with him on her lap. “It’s all right, love,” she soothed, stroking his hair. “I’m here, and there’s nothing to cry about. Hush now! He’s gone, and we’re safe.”

“No!” he shrieked. “Not the market! I don’t want to go! Please, Mamma, don’t make me go!” He dissolved into loud sobbing.

“Don’t cry, little one,” Margarita rocked him gently back and forth. “We won’t go to the market, if you don’t want to.”

I gazed helplessly at the pair of them, trying to work out what had frightened Gaius so. A trip to the market? For a boy of his age, that would be exciting, surely, not alarming, especially with Saturnalia almost here. Any child as attractive as this one would get more than his share of treats and presents.

When eventually she had calmed him down, she smiled at me and Albia. “Thank you. Thank you both. You’ve no idea what you’ve saved us from.”

“I think we have,” I smiled back at her. “That man’s a pig.”

“It was good of you, really kind. Usually I have to barricade my door so he can’t get in.”

“Can’t you just tell him no and send him off with a flea in his ear?”

She shook her head. “It’s not so easy. If it was just me, perhaps—but it isn’t. And my lady believes any spiteful tale he tells her, of course. Well, thanks to you, we’re safe for now. And if there’s anything I can do in return….”

“As it happens there is.” This was just the chance I’d been waiting for.

“Tell me.”

“I need a quarter of an hour on my own. I give you my word I’m not running away, or planning to hurt anybody. But there’s a message I have to send to a friend.”

“It’s time I put Gaius to bed.” She got to her feet a little clumsily with the child in her arms. “Albia, is there a spare room somewhere we can use? Or we can sleep in here, whichever is least trouble. It usually takes me at least a quarter of an hour to settle him down,” she added, and they went out together.

I hurried to the kitchen and sent one of the maids to find Titch. “He’ll be in the tack-room playing dice with the other horse-boys, I expect. Tell him I want to see him straight away, please.”

I sat down at the big table and wrote a quick note to Chief Councillor Silvanius. I used ink and papyrus, to make it look more formal and official.

Aurelia Marcella to Silvanius Clarus, greetings.
We need your help urgently, and beg you to come to us as soon as you can. Albia and I are falsely accused of murder by our guests here, Lord Plautius and Lady Sempronia Metilia. They are people of power and importance. We need someone of power and importance on our side, to convince them we are innocent. They’ll listen to you, if you speak for us. Please help us.

By the time I’d sealed the note Titch was standing watching me. “Victor, I’ve a favour to ask you.”

He looked at me in surprise. Usually I just tell the horse-boys to do things, and they do them. So he realised I wasn’t giving him an order, and he could refuse if he chose. But he was always ready for adventure. I was relying on it.

“What is it?” He ran a hand through his red hair, making it even more untidy than usual. “You know I’ll do owt I can.”

“I need a man to take an urgent message to Councillor Silvanius’ villa at Oak Bridges. Someone who’ll get it there tonight and not blab about it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Aye, I’ll do that. The snow’s stopped, and it’s a grand night now. I’ll go on foot, it’s safer than riding when the roads are slippy.”

“Good, thank you. But don’t go alone. Take one of the other boys. Two’s better than one on a winter night.”

He nodded. “Castor will come. We’ll manage fine.”

“Here’s the note. Make sure you give it to the Chief Councillor himself, or to his major-domo, or….”

“Or someone who knows what they’re about. I will.” He hesitated. “The only thing is, if I get held up waiting to deliver it, or it snows again and I don’t get back here till daylight, can you make sure someone sees to Poppaea? She’s that hungry, feeding all her pups. I’ve moved them into the old cart shed, the one nobody uses now. Me dad complained that they were in the way in the tack-room.”

“Don’t worry. If you’re not back, I’ll feed her myself, I promise. But you should get home easily, unless it snows again.”

He tucked the note into his belt-pouch. “Is this to do with the feller that got stabbed?”

“You heard all about that?”

“Oh aye, the whole place is buzzing like a beehive. Their lads are saying you and Miss Albia murdered him, in mistake for their old master, cos he won’t let her marry Master Candidus.”

“And what are our lads saying?”

He laughed. “We all think that’s daft. You and Miss Albia wouldn’t murder a guest.”

“Of course not.”

“But if you did, you’d be too clever to get caught, wouldn’t you?”

I decided it was best to assume this was meant as a compliment.

C
HAPTER
XI

As Titch was leaving by the kitchen door, I heard him talking to someone outside. He turned back into the room and said, in an over-loud voice, “Does anyone know where Mistress Aurelia is? Hold on, I’ll go and see.”

He shut the door and crossed the room to me, saying softly, “There’s someone out there wants to see you. Big man with a black beard. Dressed like a native, but stands like a soldier. I don’t know him.”

“Is he alone?”

“He’s alone at the door, but while we were talking, his eyes flicked sideways once, just quickly like, as if he might have a pal standing guard in the dark.”

“I’ll see him in my study. Probably just someone after a job, though it’s an odd time to come calling. You and Castor get on your way.”

The black-bearded stranger was tall and broad, and dressed in a good wool cloak, like a prosperous farmer or merchant. But I agreed with Titch that he had the bearing of a soldier, in the way he walked and stood and glanced around the room. He also had stout army boots. So he probably wasn’t seeking a job, but trying to sell me something.

He greeted me politely and held out his hand. “Mistress Aurelia Marcella? I’m sorry to come disturbing you after dark, but I’ve a bit of business I’d like to discuss with you.” He spoke good Latin, but with a slight accent. I’ve a good ear for accents, and this man wasn’t a local Brigantian tribesman, but originated from further north.

We shook hands, and I answered in British. “Certainly. May I ask your name?”

He smiled, showing a broken front tooth. “I’m Otus.”

“Otus! I’m very pleased to meet you. It was some of your boys who helped to put out our haystack fire this morning, wasn’t it?”

“It was, aye.”

“We were extremely grateful. You must let me get you a drink.”

“Thanks, I’ll take a glass of wine with you.”

“Would your friend outside like a drink too?” It was an arrow in the dark, and I was pleased to see a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“I’ve come on my own tonight,” he answered.

“Have you? Then I ought to warn you, my horse-boy saw somebody following you.”

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