arranged to do. And I must leave at once. So I am afraid you will have to deliver that message for yourself — as you were ordered to — unless you wish to send it by the gig-driver?’
‘It hardly seems fitting, but perhaps I could.’ But he was tempted. I could read it on his face.
‘He is already carrying serious news,’ I urged. ‘About the likely involvement of the Druids. We’ve just discovered that. And in that connection, you could help us, perhaps. I know that you were asked to guard the raeda through the day — did anyone come close to it or speak to you at all?’
‘Only some pock-faced trader who tried to look inside, obviously bursting with curiosity. But I knew my duty. I sent him away. I told him nothing. Did you think I would?’
‘And you did not for an instant leave your post? Not even to…?’ I waved towards the large pot just outside the gates, where someone from the wine-shop was busily engaged in providing urine for the fuller’s shop. ‘Or to eat and drink? It was a long time that you were standing there.’
He shook his head and gave a grimace that might have been a smile. ‘When you work at the temple, citizen, you learn great self-control. Some of the ceremonies can go on for hours. And as for food and water, today’s a fast for us, until we celebrate the birthday feast tonight with a special meal at the temple slave-quarters.’
‘So nobody could possibly have tampered with the box?’
‘Not without my knowledge, citizen. And I saw nobody.’ He was emphatic now.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Thank you for your help. Now if you would like to go over to the gig and pass your message on, I will take the raeda and set off at once. It is a long way to Corinium and when I get there I have to find the house.’
‘Can’t you tell them for me, citizen?’ the slave began, but Ascus was already striding towards us by this time.
‘The gig is ready, citizen, and the raedarius is waiting for your orders to depart.’
I turned to the temple-slave who was boggling at the giant. ‘Then I will leave you to pass your message to the gig-driver. I think we’ve finished here. Very well, Ascus, help me to my seat. On the front of the raeda with the driver would be best — then you can call him and we’ll be on our way.’ I beckoned to the raedarius and he came across while I let Ascus hoist me to my seat.
‘Are we ready?’ the raeda-driver asked, climbing gingerly aboard and picking up his whip. I nodded my assent. Ascus had vaulted up onto his horse again, and was already clearing a path for us through the now thinning crowds. I took a last look back.
In the distance I could see the gig with the box wedged into it. The temple-slave saying something to the gig-driver, who looked up and waved frantically at us.
I made a swift decision and waved politely back. I had not told my two companions that Lavinia had gone. I would tell them later — when we were on our way. Otherwise, I feared a mutiny.
I settled in my seat. ‘Lead on,’ I called to Ascus, and we rattled off.
THIRTEEN
It was a long journey to Corinium and for the first hour, at least, an uneventful one. The roads were almost empty and we travelled fast until we reached the crossroads where the basket-weaver lived.
We had hardly exchanged more than a few shouted sentences till then — the rattling carriage drowned them and the wind of our passage whirled the words away — but now the raedarius slowed the cart and turned towards me, gesturing with his whip towards the place. ‘Do you still want to stop there, in case anything was seen while I was at the stall, or has the discovery of the corpse made that unnecessary now?’
I thought a moment and decided that I wanted him to stop. I signalled to Ascus to rein in his horse and we left him holding the raeda while we walked over to the stall. It was a simple lopsided table piled with osier baskets of every shape and size and stood outside a tumbledown cottage in a weed-strewn patch of ground, where hungry chickens pecked for food among straggly cabbages. Behind the stall a warty woman was sitting on a stool, weaving yet another of her wares.
She looked up and watched us warily as we approached, her face as thin and sharp as any of the dried stems that she wove. She exuded a strong smell of sweat and cooking-smoke. But she seemed to know the raeda-driver. She gave him a doubtful smile.
‘Why, Ephibbius, are you back again?’ She gestured to his bloodstained tunic. ‘You’ve been whipped, I see.’ She glanced evilly at me as though she thought I might have wielded the lash. ‘Brought a customer?’
I shook my head. ‘We are on our way back to Corinium. I hoped to have a word with you, that’s all. About that basket which you sold him earlier, when he drove his carriage past…’ I nodded to where Ascus had the raeda in his care.
‘That so, citizen?’ She picked up a knife and began to trim the ends of the osiers set around the frame, with savage little movements that emphasized her words. ‘Well, don’t you come complaining and bringing giants here. He doesn’t frighten me. If that basket handle’s broken, it’s no fault of mine.’
‘Broken?’ This was unexpected. I glanced at Ephibbius, since that seemed to be the raeda-driver’s name. I wondered how the woman came to know — he had certainly not mentioned it to me. However, the word sounds rather like the Greek for ‘horse’, so it may have been a nickname she had just thought up for him. I used it anyway. ‘Did you know that, Ephibbius?’
She put the knife down, and began to thread another willow-strand into her handiwork. ‘Well, of course, he did — that’s why he sent it back. But it won’t do any good — I told the slave-girl that. Perfectly all right when it left here, it was. Must have been something that she did to it. Silly child put too much weight in it, I expect.’
I stared at her. ‘What slave-girl do you mean? What are you talking of?’
She looked up at me, her hands still busy with her work. ‘Don’t come here in your toga and start harassing me. You are a citizen. You must know the law of sale as well as I do. Caveat emptor — let the purchaser beware. Ephibbius bought the basket he contracted for. If he gave it to that maidservant and she broke it afterwards, that’s no concern of mine.’ She gave him a sly look. ‘And him telling me he bought it as a present for his wife!’
‘But I didn’t give it-’ the raedarius began.
I interrupted him, ‘Not now, Ephibbius!’ I turned back to the hag, suddenly realizing the implication of her words. ‘Are you telling us you have seen the girl again? The one who was with him?’ I hazarded a guess. ‘She brought the basket back?’
The woman pursed her lips and gave an affronted sniff. ‘Supposing that she did? I told her — same as I told you. Not my responsibility if the handle broke. She should have been more gentle — stuffing it so full.’
‘Full of what?’ I wondered. From the account that I’d been given earlier, Puella had no possessions of her own.
‘Wild watercress!’ the hag said, with a contemptuous sneer. ‘Isn’t that what Ephibbius gave her the basket for? Trying to sell it, from the looks of it — though Minerva knows who’d want to buy it around here. If we want it, we go and pick it for ourselves. There’s plenty of it, off the beaten track.’
I frowned. Collecting watercress to sell? This sounded less and less like Audelia’s maidservant. If Puella had been fleeing to escape a punishment — as the raedarius supposed — she would never have deliberately drawn attention to herself by coming to the basket-woman to complain. She would have known the risks she ran by calling here again — being recognized and handed to the authorities. There would be more than a mere flogging to be fearful of — the penalty for a slave who ran away was very often death. As to my own theory, which I’d briefly held, that the girl had run away because she knew what was hidden in the box — it was clearly false as well. Unless Puella had done the deed herself (in which case she was doubly certain to avoid the chance of being recognized) seeing the body would certainly have frightened her too much — knowing that the murderers were somewhere still at large and might do the same to her, if only to ensure she held her tongue. I could discount the whole idea. No female who had seen that mutilated corpse would idly stop in a deserted spot to gather watercress.
I shook my head. ‘There must be some mistake. It was the same basket, you could swear to that?’
She snorted. ‘Of course I could. I’d know it anywhere. It had a piece of blue-dyed thread around the joint. I put it there to cover up the…’ She broke off. ‘To make it stronger,’ she corrected hastily. ‘It was the one I sold to Ephibbius, all right. I should know my own handiwork, I hope. Anyway, I recognized the girl.’
That would have been my next enquiry. ‘You’re certain of that too?’
