seen Lavinius before. He was not a resident of Glevum, of course — and therefore not a member of the local curia — but I had noticed him from time to time at the basilica, consorting with various important councillors. He was not an easy man to overlook: a strikingly tall, thin individual, whose patrician hawk-nose was made more prominent by sharp, clean-shaven cheeks. With his balding head and fringe of whitish hair, he might have been good-looking in a Roman kind of way, except that age had given his shoulders a slight stoop and his face an expression of ill-disguised contempt for lesser men.
He was turning that expression in my direction now. ‘You are this pavement-maker I have been hearing of?’ His voice was low and colourless, but strangely echoing, like someone speaking in a sepulchre.
I had learned from long experience how to respond to wealthy men like this. I dropped immediately down onto one knee and bowed my head as though I were truly as low in status as his words implied. ‘The citizen Longinus Flavius Libertus, at your service, mightiness,’ I murmured. It was a pretence at grovelling, but in fact it made a point. I was a Roman citizen and therefore entitled to respect — as my formal use of the full three Roman names was deliberately designed to emphasize.
Lavinius, however, was not impressed by this. He waved a bony hand in vague dismissal of my words. ‘Well whatever your name is, pavement-maker, do get up from there.’ As I clambered stiffly to my feet, he ran a pair of faded pale-blue eyes over me, from my now-grimy toga to my greying hair. ‘Your patron, Marcus Septimus, commended you to me and seems to think that you might be of help. I suppose he knows what he is speaking of, although to look at you, I must say I’m surprised. If we are dealing with armed kidnappers and bandits, as seems probable, I can’t see what use a man your age will be. I had expected someone with a bit more strength to him.’ He made a little tutting sound against his perfect teeth. ‘Still, it is not for me to question what His Excellence suggests. I have agreed to allow you to assist. I think you understand the problem — my niece has disappeared. Where exactly are you hoping to begin?’
It was hardly an encouraging start to dealing with the man, but I dusted down my toga and said doggedly, ‘By having this raeda-driver’s bonds released a bit, so I can question him. I sent to make the request to your steward earlier.’
The long brow darkened. ‘So I understand. Though I can’t imagine what you hope to gain.’ He looked at the raedarius, lying helpless on the floor. ‘This wretch is culpable of carelessness at least, and possibly much worse. More sensible to have him tortured till he tells us everything.’
I said (as I have said to Marcus many times), ‘Flog him and you may force an admission out of him — some men will agree to anything you choose, simply provided that the torturer will stop. However, I am more concerned with getting at the truth — that is the only way to find your niece alive.’ Even supposing that she’s not already dead, I added inwardly, though I knew better than to voice that thought aloud. Lavinius was already looking unconvinced.
It was Publius who unexpectedly came to my support. ‘He may be right, you know, Lavinius my friend. I’ve been witness to such things in Rome. Evidence extorted is not always true.’
I could see Lavinius wavering, and I pressed the point. ‘What I need from this raedarius, you see, are little details of the trip — perhaps things that did not seem important at the time, but which in retrospect may be significant. He tells me, for instance, that they had to stop to let a legion of marching troops go past. That might be the place where the kidnapping took place, and not in Glevum as we thought at first-’
‘So,’ Lavinius interrupted curtly. ‘Why ease his limbs for that? It seems to me that a modicum of pain has already spurred his memory.’
‘If we loosen his bonds there may be more that he recalls — a man can’t think clearly about details like that when his mind is focussed on his suffering.’
‘Have them cut the bonds, Lavinius’ Publius urged. I’d obviously swayed him by my argument, ‘I’m willing to try anything to find Audelia. And what is there to lose? This pavement-maker has already learned something that we did not know before. Nothing that your steward’s flogging managed to obtain has, up to now, been of any use at all.’
I turned to my unexpected ally with a smile. ‘Respected citizen, if you are really willing to try anything, the really useful thing would be to have this driver take me to the place where he was compelled to stop because the troops went past. If he can identify the spot, it is possible I can discover something there. Though there is still the question of the maidservant-’
Lavinius’s snort of outrage interrupted me again. ‘You can’t mean that you expect me not just to loose the bonds — though, Jove knows that is extraordinary enough — but actually to let this fellow go? And more than that, to give his raeda back and actively encourage him to drive away from town in it? Citizen, you have a very strange idea of how Roman justice works.’
Actually I had a pretty clear idea, and I could see that I was likely to end up in court myself — charged with conspiring to help a prisoner escape — if I persisted in this argument. I was about to say that I’d abandoned the idea, when Publius again spoke up in my defence.
‘Perhaps we should try it his way, Lavinius, my friend. There seems to be very little else that we can do, and this is at least something positive. The place where the raeda stopped might well be relevant, but it will not be easy to identify the spot, unless the driver is there to point it out. And, as the citizen suggests, the easiest way of him achieving that is for the raedarius himself to take him there. I’ll bear responsibility, if trouble comes of it.’
I was warming to this fellow, despite his podgy pompous looks. Perhaps it was his open nature which had won Audelia. I would have liked to ask him how he came to know his bride, but Lavinius was already saying angrily, ‘I can’t agree to that. It was the pavement-maker citizen who suggested this, and he alone must be responsible. I think the whole idea is ludicrous, but you are the bridegroom, and my guest besides, so of course the choice is yours. If you wish me to indulge this citizen in his unlikely plans, then I must comply. But only if the pavement- maker will pledge a hundred aureii on the driver’s safe return.’ He cast a triumphant, cunning look at me. ‘And I give him fair warning that if he lets the man escape then I will drag him through the courts for full payment of the debt — and the value of whatever jewels were lost as well.’
I gasped. A hundred aureii was a huge amount of gold — more than I had ever set eyes on in my life, and certainly a good deal more than my whole estate was worth. The mere suggestion took my breath away. Of course I realized that Lavinius was perfectly aware of how I would react, and this was simply a way of making sure that I declined the trip. But before I had recovered my wits enough to utter the legal formula required to refuse a bargain and so make it void, my defender Publius had intervened and was clapping me on the shoulder with a friendly smile.
‘Well then, pavement-maker…’ Before I realized what was happening he had seized my unsuspecting hand and thrust it into Lavinius’s bony grasp. ‘There! You have shaken hands and I have witnessed it, so the contract between you now has legal force. Come, steward, cut the driver’s bonds and let him go.’ He turned to Lavinius with his chubby smile. ‘If His Excellence Marcus Septimus has such confidence in our mosaicist, then I am inclined to act on his advice — and if he is right there is no time to lose. The sooner he finds out where the stop took place, the faster my dear bride is likely to be found.’
EIGHT
To say that I was utterly appalled by this does not come close to describing how I felt. I was literally speechless with dismay. Not only was I legally compelled to bring the driver back, on penalty of a small fortune in gold coins, but I was also apparently expected to set off at once — when it was already the middle of the afternoon — to a town that was fully twenty miles away, with not the slightest prospect of getting back that day. Whatever else, I’d not intended that.
‘But my family, mightiness,’ I burbled. ‘They won’t know where I am. Besides, it will be dark in only a few hours and I have no money for an inn. What am I to do when I get to Corinium? Or do you expect me to sleep beside the road?’
Lavinius gave me his icy pale-blue stare. ‘Citizen, I have complied with your request.’ (In fact he hadn’t — the driver was still bound.) ‘After that — as far as I’m concerned — the matter rests with you. If there are resultant problems, that’s not my affair. Perhaps you should have thought the matter through a little more.’ He turned to the steward, who was hovering nearby. ‘Slave, do as this pavement-maker says. Cut this scoundrel’s bonds then go and
