to let us pass or turn.
It had not occurred to me, although it should have done, that the address we were seeking might be hard to find. I have been accustomed, in unfamiliar towns, to staying in the official inns, or mansios, which are built to serve officials and the Imperial post and so are always conveniently placed at or within the gates. This house was simply a spacious private home, which occasionally supplemented the owner’s income by accepting paying guests, and though I’d heard it had a stable-block and court attached to it, I was surprised to learn that the entrance lay down a fairly narrow lane, at the town-wall end of a little line of shops. Fortunately, my companions had both been there before — though even then the raedarius passed the entrance to the alley once and had to drive all the way around the block again.
When we did arrive it was to find another problem awaiting us. The gate into the stable-court was bolted, the windows shuttered and the front doors firmly locked. There was not even the glimmer of a candle anywhere. This was something I hadn’t bargained for — although of course the owners were not expecting us. Granted, many thrifty tradesmen living in the town — not having social lives and banquets to attend — retire at sunset and rise again at dawn, thereby saving heat and lighting fuel, they claim, but it was barely dusk. One would have expected some evidence of life. Even in the thriftiest establishments there are always chores which cannot easily be done in working hours, and generally people require a little time to eat. Perhaps the owners had gone out, I thought — though surely in that case there would be slaves at least? I knew that there were at least two at the establishment, because they had carried the fateful box downstairs.
We knocked and shouted, but to no avail, and I was just beginning to wonder what to do, and whether I should go to the mansio after all, when a shutter opened at a window-space above and an indignant head poked out.
‘What do you mean by coming here and making such a din?’ The grizzled head and irritated tone suggested that this was the owner of the property. ‘This is a respectable household and we are all abed.’
‘Already gone to bed?’ I echoed, in astonishment.
My amazement must have been evident in my tone. ‘We have been busy. It has been a wearing day,’ the man said, snappishly. ‘Now that you know that, kindly go away. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but we are not receiving anyone tonight. If you have business with us of some sort — as I suppose you must — then come back in daylight like anybody else.’
‘But I’ve come to ask for lodgings,’ I began, ‘I understand you-’
The head shook forcefully. ‘Then you’ve come to the wrong place. We don’t take passing trade.’
‘I have an introduction…’ I brought out the writing-block and waved it hopefully towards the window-space — as though he could possibly have read it from up there, even in good light.
He was not impressed. ‘I’m sorry, citizen.’ He did not sound apologetic in the least. ‘I don’t know how you came to hear of us, but you’ve been misinformed. It’s true we do take people now and then, but that’s by prior arrangement only and even then we only deal with families we know. You’ll have to look elsewhere.’ He turned as someone with a lighted taper came into the room.
‘What is it, husband?’ said a female voice.
‘Don’t get excited, wife. It isn’t what you hoped — no news of the young lady you were concerned about. Just some stranger looking for lodgings for the night. Don’t worry, I’ve told him we aren’t able to oblige.’
There was a moment’s hissing conversation, and then a curly dark head joined the grizzled one — only a shadow now against the taper’s light. A plump face looked down self-importantly at me. ‘All our rooms are technically taken anyway.’ She reached for the shutter. ‘Try the mansio.’
‘So I take it that Lavinia has not returned?’ I called, before she had time to shut the window-space on me. She froze — the hand that rested on the shutter seemed to turn to stone.
‘What do you know about Lavinia?’
‘I was sent here by her family,’ I said, though that was not strictly the answer to what she’d asked. ‘And this letter of introduction is from the man who hoped to marry someone else you know, her cousin Audelia who stayed here yesterday.’ I didn’t mention what had happened to the bride — time enough for that news when we got inside. The town would be full of rumours tomorrow as it was — there was at least one listener loitering in a doorway opposite.
There was still no movement from the householders to come and let us in. I had an inspiration, suddenly. ‘If you need further confirmation, ask Audelia’s bodyguard.’ I gestured to Ascus, who was waiting in the shadows by the court-gates, with the horse. ‘No doubt you recognize him? He’s noteworthy enough.’
The woman brought the candle and leaned out to look. When she saw Ascus she gave a little cry. ‘Dear Mars, Trullius! He’s telling us the truth. That is Audelia’s bodyguard — I’d know that giant of a horseman anywhere, and by the gods I do believe that’s her raedarius too — the one that brought Lavinia here and took Audelia on to meet her groom today.’
Ephibbius acknowledged this with a little bow.
She turned to her husband and thumped him on the arm. ‘Trullius, you old fool! Can’t you even look to see who you are talking to! Get downstairs at once and let these people in — tell the stable-slave to have the horses seen to and the stable-bed prepared, and I’ll get something for this citizen to eat. He obviously comes from the family, as he says, and we are in enough trouble with them as it is.’
He muttered something which I could not hear.
‘We’ll manage! We’ll keep the attic room in case the girl comes back, and he can have my bed, like that couple did last night. I’ll just have to sleep in the servant’s room again.’ She gave him a sharp push. ‘Well, get downstairs, what are you waiting for? Don’t keep them in the street. You want the whole neighbourhood to know what’s happening? We’re entertaining half Corinium as it is.’
She was right. Shop doors and window-spaces up and down the lane were opening and people were peeping out of them, though when the side-gates opened and a scruffy slave appeared, waving Ascus and the raeda through into the court, the spectators appeared to lose interest in the scene.
The grizzled husband had come down himself to greet me at the doorway of the house, still dressed in the patched under-tunic he’d been sleeping in. He had draped a worn blanket around him like a cape, but he could not hide the dreadful burn-marks on one arm. He carried a lighted oil-lamp in his uninjured hand as with one bare foot he held the door ajar. ‘Come in then, citizen,’ he mumbled gracelessly. ‘I’ve sent a slave to get the fire alight, and my wife will find you something, if you want to eat.’ He gave me a searching look. ‘Though that may cost extra, at this time of night.’
I brought out Publius’s writing-block again. ‘It will be taken care of,’ I said, loftily. ‘I’d be grateful for some food. And my companions too. None of us has eaten anything since noon.’ Much longer in the case of the raedarius, I realized, though I’d not heard him complain.
My host took the letter in his damaged hand — though he clearly found it difficult to grasp anything with that charred and withered claw — and peered short-sightedly at it, holding the scratched message so near the lamp I feared the wax would melt. However, what he saw appeared to satisfy his doubts. He looked up and nodded. ‘This way, citizen.’
He ushered me down a passage to the right into a small room with a dining-alcove in the wall, complete with a table, a bench and two small stools, and lighted by a pitch-torch in a holder in the wall — rather like a common mansio, in fact. No fancy dining-couches on offer here! I wondered what Audelia and her cousin thought of that! He motioned me to sit down on the bench. ‘My wife will be with you-’
‘I am already here!’ She came bustling in. She was much younger than her husband, as I could now see by the lighted taper which she held, and she might have been pretty if she had not been so plump. Unlike her husband, she had found time to dress, not only in a proper day-tunic to cover up her legs, but she’d also managed to tie soft sandals on her feet and thrust a fashionable band around her tousled hair. She gave me a sly smile, obviously conscious of her ample charms. ‘I am Priscilla, at your service, citizen. Now, I have a little stew of pork and leeks prepared, which I’ve put back on the fire, and I believe there’s still some bread and pickled fruits as well…’
‘Pork-stew would be excellent,’ I said, with truth. It was, in fact, unlooked-for luxury. I had expected bread and soup at best. A meal of that quality must have been prepared with Lavinia in mind. ‘And you’ll feed my horsemen too? They-’
She was so anxious to reassure me that she cut across my words. ‘Naturally, citizen. There is bread and cheese for them, such as we usually provide, and I’ve had the stable-slave make up a bed for them. Generally these fellows like to sleep beside the horse.’ She snuffed her taper out to save the wick.
