He took a long breath. 'You have been collecting poisonous plants,' he said. 'If there is an innocent explanation, you must give it to me. Otherwise, I will have to report you. I have already told you about the questioners. You will beg for mercy, and they will not listen.'
In the silence that followed, he prayed she was not going to tell him something he would have to report anyway. The cursing would not go down well if it were made public. If the questioners got hold of her, the best she could hope for was a swift end.
A dark tear splash appeared on the floorboards in front of her. A second fell beside it. Ruso clenched his fists. This was not fair. She was doing it on purpose to avoid answering questions. Sooner or later, this was the trick they all resorted to. Gods, how he hated having to deal with women! It was as if they sensed that he wouldn't know what to do.
Tilla sniffed and lifted both fists, still held together by the thread of bandage, to wipe her eyes.
'Oh, for pity's sake!' He turned and flung the belt at the desk. It skidded across the top and sent the whetstone and the scalpel clattering onto the floor. 'Get up!' he snapped. 'Sit on a chair and stop fiddling with that bandage.'
Tilla sniffed again and scrambled up onto the nearest stool.
Ruso retrieved the scalpel from under a chair, lifted her hands, and stroked apart the thread that held them together. The limp forefinger lifted as he unraveled the binding, then fell back into her lap. The white indentation that ran around it gradually turned pink.
Tilla said flatly, 'I have failed.'
This so accurately mirrored his own feeling that he paused before asking, 'At what?'
'If I speak,' she said, not looking up, 'I will be punished. If I do not speak I will be punished.'
Ruso sat on his desk and folded his arms. He was almost sure she was telling the truth about Innocens. She could not have picked anything more dangerous than a dandelion around Merula's and anyway the girls never went out without the protective supervision of one of the doormen. So what on earth could she have to confess? As gently as he could he said, 'Then you may as well tell me now.'
'If I tell,' she said, 'my tongue will be cut out.'
Ruso frowned. 'Is this some Druid nonsense? The Druids are finished, Tilla. We're in charge here now.'
'Is not Druids!' she blurted in exasperation. 'Is Merula!'
Ruso felt his shoulders drop. 'Merula?'
'You have seen Daphne!'
He stared at her. 'The pregnant one?' He tried to grasp the connection. 'Are you telling me Merula cut out her tongue?'
'Daphne asks a customer to help her run away. He says he will help, then he tells Merula. You see what happens to slaves who talk!'
He slid off the desk, crouched in front of her and gripped her by the shoulders. 'Tell me,' he insisted. 'Tell me exactly what's going on. I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense right-' There was another knock at the door. 'I said, not now, Albanus! Is this life or death?'
'Yes, sir! No, sir!'
'Which?'
'Yes, not now, sir, no it's not life or death, sir.' There was a pause, then the clerk's voice said uncertainly, 'Shall I come back in a minute, sir?'
'Don't bother,' said Ruso. 'I'll come and find you.'
He returned his attention to his servant. 'Quickly,' he urged.
52
'So,' said Ruso, scratching one ear and trying to make sense of what his servant had just told him. 'This new girl at Merula's, Phryne-'
'Is not her real name.'
'Well, just pretend it is for the moment. This is a girl from your own tribe who accepted a lift from Innocens and then found herself kidnapped and sold to Merula.'
'She is not a slave. She is freeborn. Her father is carpenter.'
'These are serious allegations, Tilla.'
'Yes, my Lord.'
'And are you saying that Merula knows her history?'
'She tell her.'
'These are very serious allegations.'
'Yes, my Lord. Merula-'
'Threatened to have your tongue cut out if you talked. I know. How was she going to explain that to me?'
She shrugged.
'Clearly she didn't expect to have to do it. So you're convinced that your goddess has given you the job of saving this girl, but rather than have your tongue cut out, you were encouraging her to run away and making magic potions and prayers to protect her from the same fate as the other girls.'
'And I put-'
'Don't say it!' he interrupted. 'If you've been putting curses on Merula or anyone else, I want you to keep quiet about it. I happen to think it's nonsense but there are people who won't. You could get yourself into a lot of trouble.'
Suddenly she looked up as if a bright idea had occurred to her. 'My Lord could buy Phryne!'
He frowned. 'Buy Phryne? What would I want to buy her for?'
'Or my Lord's friend, the good-looking one, he could buy her!'
'Even if we wanted to,' Ruso pointed out, unable to imagine the good-looking one exerting himself for a slave he didn't want, 'neither of us can buy her if she's stolen, can we?'
'Then you send her home, and Merula does not know that I tell you!'
'And the lightness in my purse is counterbalanced by the weight of moral righteousness.'
She looked at him blankly. 'Is what?'
'Never mind.'
'You get your money back,' she said. 'I tell her family, they pay you.'
'Marvelous. I'll go into business with Claudius Innocens. He can be the muscle man, and I'll send you to do the extortion.'
She said, 'Oh.'
He was conscious of time moving on. He really should go and deal with whatever Priscus wanted. 'There's no need for all these complicated schemes, Tilla,' he told her. 'I know your people have trouble believing it, but this part of Britannia is under Roman protection. A man can't steal a freeman's daughter and sell her into slavery, and an owner certainly can't buy a slave and put her to work knowing her to be stolen. You've acted correctly in reporting a crime. I'll pass on the report and it will be dealt with in the proper way.'
'But my Lord, Merula-'
'Don't worry about Merula. The law says that slaves are the property of their owners. Merula might get away with bullying her own girls but nobody's going to cut out the tongue of my property. I'll make it clear to the bar staff that they're to leave you alone in future. Understood?'
She nodded. 'Yes, my Lord.'
'Now go over to the house and get started on dinner. And don't steal anybody else's firewood.'
'Yes, my Lord.' She stood and gathered up the cloak and the basket.
Her hand was on the door latch when one last question occurred to him. 'Tilla?'
She turned. 'My Lord?'
'You are legally a slave yourself, aren't you?'
She raised her hand to the place on her upper arm where the tunic hid the copper slave band. 'I am, my
