Persona Non Grata (21 page)

“God loves us,” Galla assured her. “If we keep the faith, there is a place ready for each one of us in heaven.”

Tilla voiced the problem that had been niggling at the back of her mind. “But you meet in secret.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to put ourselves in danger on purpose.”

“Would your god protect me in Arelate?”

Galla stopped. “Why would you go there?”

“I am only thinking about it,” explained Tilla. “Arelate is the place to find out about the missing ship. I was thinking, if this Brother Solemnis has a cart . . .”

“You can’t go somewhere on your own with a man. And Arelate is full of sailors, and where there are sailors there are bad women.”

Tilla said, “But your god is everywhere.”

“What about Master Gaius?”

“The Medicus is a problem,” Tilla agreed.

“There are many things you don’t understand about the faith.”

“I understand what it is to lose a brother.” She also understood that if she did not find a way to avoid it, she was going to have to eat her first ever Roman dinner tomorrow night in front of the Medicus’s family and be compared with the rich and beautiful Lollia Saturnina, who knew how to read and write.

Before Galla could object, she gathered up her skirt and ran back down between the trees, past the squat boundary stone and the drying amphorae and into the yard where the driver was standing chatting to some of the workmen. “Brother Solemnis!” she cried. As his skinny neck reddened and his eyes widened in alarm, she said, “I may need to go to Arelate. What time do you set off in the morning?”

43

T
HE SURFACE OF the bench was still warm beneath her, but the late evening air was mercifully cool. Tilla wrapped her hands around her shoulders and gazed at the house that was the Medicus’s home, but not hers. A yellow glow around the dining room shutters reminded her of how he had changed the subject when she asked if he was thinking of marrying Lollia Saturnina.

A shape appeared in the doorway, clattered down the steps, and hurried toward her. Resolving itself into Galla, it hissed, “Mistress Cassiana is coming!”

This was good. Cass was friendly. Perhaps they could talk over the problem.

“I think she’s cross with us!”

Tilla frowned, wondering what she had done to offend now. Before Galla could explain, a second shape emerged from the house and Galla fled.

Cass seated herself on the bench, folded her arms, and said, “I hear you cursed the person who supplied the ship.”

Tilla felt her stomach clench. She wished she had said her prayer to the god in private. What had possessed Galla to relay it to her mistress? She said, “I was trying to help. I know what it is to lose a brother.”

“Galla told me because she is loyal,” explained Cass, answering her unspoken question. “She wanted me to know before I heard any gossip.”

When Tilla did not reply, she continued, her tone suddenly sharp, “What do you know about it?”

Tilla wished she could crumble away into the dry ground under her feet. Even trampling about in that slimy grape trough was better than feeling the churning in her intestines. The only people who had shown her much of a welcome since she had arrived here were Cass, Galla, and the worshippers of Christos. Galla had kept a secret from her mistress out of kindness, and Tilla had just betrayed her with that stupid prayer.

“I know Galla is a follower of Christos,” said Cass. “I don’t care about that. My brother was one too. What do you know about the ship?”

Tilla cleared her throat. There was no way out of this but to tell the truth. “Galla heard a rumor that it was a rotten old ship that should never have gone to sea.”

Cass seized her arm. “I knew there was something! I knew there was something not right!”

“That is why I cursed the person who hired out the ship to Severus,” explained Tilla. “He must have known. He deserves to die too. Your brother is dead because that person was greedy.”

“What else did Galla tell you? Why would the captain try and get to Ostia on something that wasn’t seaworthy? Has she heard anything else?”

“I do not know. You must ask her.”

“But it means there are people who know things!”

“She overheard this from the fish sellers at the market.”

Cass’s face fell. “I’ve already tried them. They won’t talk to me. Lucius won’t go to Arelate and ask, and Gaius has too much to do already.”

“Yes,” said Tilla, wondering whether this new god could be speaking in the words of Cassiana. “I know.”

44

T
ILLA WAS NER VOUS walking through the garden in the cool of the morning, clutching her bag in one hand and a borrowed straw hat in the other. The air around her was silent apart from the call of a bird and the plants rustling in the breeze. The screeching insects had not woken up yet.

The dog at the gate sniffed at her curiously as she slipped back the bolts, but he was trained to stop people coming in, not going out. She pulled the gate gently shut behind her and said a silent good-bye to the strange house hold where she had spent the last three days. She had her savings, four and a half denarii, and her comb in a little leather pouch hung around her neck. Her cloak was bundled inside her bag in case she had to sleep outdoors, and her knife was strapped to her belt.

Traveling alone and unprotected to a strange city seemed far more dangerous this morning than it had last night. She had almost lost her nerve as she watched the Medicus sleeping. She heard the steady rhythm of his breath falter. Heard him mutter something as he dreamed. Waiting, motionless, until he settled again, she told herself both their lives would be less complicated if she were away for a couple of days. Indeed, their lives would be less complicated if they had never met, but she did not want to think about that. She only knew that if she stayed, she would have to face an evening lying across a dining couch in a borrowed dress—probably yellow again, so that her skin would look gray and her hair would look dirty— while all these foreigners wished she had not come so that the Medicus could propose to Lollia Saturnina.

She had kissed him lightly on the forehead, picked up her things, and crept out of the room.

Reaching the roadside, she trained her eyes on the western approach and watched for the cart to appear. She reminded herself that she had the protection of the God Who Is Everywhere. Just in case the god needed a reminder, she lifted her hands and prayed that he would keep her safe. That he would look after the Medicus while she was away. That he would help her find out about the
Pride of the South
. That Lollia Saturnina would have a laugh like a donkey, or dribble down her chin. “Amen,” she added at the end, remembering the formula. It was important to get the words right, or the prayer would not be heard. Everyone knew that, and besides, it would not do to get on the wrong side of a god who was everywhere and saw everything.

There was a great deal she did not understand about this Christos and she felt no better for praying to him. But she understood that Cass’s brother had died because of someone else’s greed, and that a means of getting to Arelate to find out the truth had been presented to her while she was in the presence of the god’s worshippers. She had upset Cass last night without meaning to, and she needed to make amends. Besides, she was the only one who could help. The Medicus was too worried about debts and murder, and Cass’s husband was of no use. Most of the house-hold must have heard him shouting at her again last night. The Medicus, who had barely spoken to Tilla since she had returned from the meeting next door, had pinched out the lamp and observed that Lucius and wine were not a good combination.

“You should talk to him.”

“He wouldn’t listen.”

She said, “I hear the widow next door is coming to dinner.”

“And Diphilus the builder.”

“She is the one who is very pretty and very rich.”

There was only a brief pause before, “Diphilus isn’t.”

“Even if you find out who did poison that man, you will still have no money.”

She felt the warmth of his sigh on her shoulder. “I’m going to have to face a difficult decision before long, Tilla.”

She did not ask what that decision was. She did not need to. All she said was, “Not to night.”

“No.” He nestled his head against her. “Not to night.”

A train of donkeys loaded with panniers of lettuces and onions plodded past on the way to market. Minutes later the driver of a cart reined in his mule, called, “Oy! Gorgeous! Going into town?” and pointed to the seat beside him. She told him she was waiting for someone, and he drove on.

Tilla tried to push away the memories of the last time she had been taken away on a cart from a place she did not want to be. She hoped she was not making another terrible mistake. Instead of rescuing her, that driver had turned out to be even worse than the people from whom she was fleeing. If it had not been for the Medicus’s intervention she would not be alive now. What if Brother Solemnis turned out to be another crook? He had not looked like a criminal—in fact he had looked distinctly alarmed at being asked for a lift by a strange foreign woman. But she had been wrong last time. She shivered and rubbed the scar on the arm that her kidnapper had smashed when she tried to escape. The arm the Medicus had insisted on trying to mend when others would have played it safe and left her to try and survive with only one hand.

She should have said something to him about this journey. He did not deserve to be abandoned without a word. But if he had known, there would have been an argument. He would have had to pretend he wanted her to stay and eat dinner with the rich widow.

Tilla’s gaze followed the track of the long shadow that stretched away from her feet in the direction of the town. There was still no sign of the man from Arelate.

At her feet, the tiniest ants she had ever seen were swarming around a dead bee, shifting first one end and then the other, nudging their charge along through the dust. Others were scurrying to and fro along an invisible track, carrying back news of the discovery to their nest.

She put on the hat she had borrowed late last night from Galla. Now the tall thin person in the shadow had a huge round head.

The clang of a distant bell made her look up. If Brother Solemnis did not turn up in a minute, she would be missed at the house. Perhaps she had said the prayer wrong. Perhaps the new god was too busy being everywhere to stop here and listen to one woman.

The bee was being hustled away into the dry grass at the side of the road.

This trip was a very big mistake. She should face up to Lollia Saturnina instead of running away. She must go back now, before someone from the house saw the family guest standing at the roadside with a traveling bag.

But then who would find out about Cass’s brother?

“I am going to count to ten,” she told the god. To be fair, she would do it very slowly. Then if the driver was not here, she would walk back down the track and hope the dog would not make a fuss when she sneaked back in through the unbolted gate.

By the time she had reached eight, her hopes of reprieve were rising. On “nine” they were dashed. There was a vehicle approaching in the distance. There were also footsteps running up the track behind her.

“Stop!” cried Cass, breathless, struggling with a bright blue-and-green-striped bag slung over her shoulder.

Ten. She had been caught. Feeling relieved and rather silly, Tilla picked up her own bag and turned to walk back to the house.

“Galla told me,” called Cass. “Don’t go without me!”

45

T
ILLA HAD WANDERED off somewhere by the time Ruso woke. She would be with Cass or Galla, keeping out of Arria’s way. Lucius was nowhere to be seen, either: probably sleeping off last night’s wine and bad behavior. Ruso was not sorry. He had nothing amicable to say to him, and he did not want any more discussions about Who, How, or Why. He knew the answers now. What he did not know was what he was going to do about them.

Before Ruso could dismount from the mule, the one-eyed gatekeeper silenced the dog with, “Oy, Brutus!” and said, “Miss Claudia’s not here, sir.”

“You mean she’s not on the premises, or she’s not allowed to see me?”

The eye met Ruso’s own. “I wouldn’t want to lie to you, sir.”

“But you would, if you were ordered to.”

The scars folded around a grin. “I would, sir. Miss Claudia’s not here. Can I say something, sir?”

The man’s attitude seemed to have warmed considerably since the last visit, perhaps as a result of Ruso’s conversation with Flaccus the kitchen boy. “Go ahead.”

“Some of us hope you get away with it.”

“It wasn’t me!”

The one eye blinked slowly, and Ruso realized the man was winking at him.

“It wasn’t!”

“If you say so, sir. You might want to know the investigators have arrived, sir.”

Ruso stared into the eye. “That’s impossible. The message was only sent a couple of days ago.”

“Turns out they were just down the road in Aquae Sextiae, sir. On some other business for the senator.”

This was not only bad news, it was an amazing coincidence. “Are you sure?”

“One of ’em’s a smartarse called Calvus,” the doorman told him. “His mate’s just here to provide some muscle.” Before Ruso could ask how he knew, the man added, “I haven’t got no instructions to lie about them, sir, see? I just let them in a minute ago. If you want to talk to them, I’ll go and ask.”

“No thanks,” said Ruso, gathering up the reins of the mule. He urgently needed to talk with Claudia, but the last thing he intended to do was to walk straight into the arms of the official investigators.

Ruso turned the mule and was just persuading it into a trot when the man called, “Hold on a minute, sir, I was wrong. Miss Claudia’s here after all.”

Claudia was there, but so was the gatekeeper, and behind her he could see Zosimus the steward hurrying toward them. The conversation he needed to have with her would be impossible. The best he could do was to beckon her outside the gatehouse and respond to her frantic “Gaius, there are men here asking questions!” with “Have you been lying to me?”

“Me? No! Ennia’s the one who tells lies. All this nonsense about the marvelous boyfriend in Rome? I said why doesn’t he come and fetch her then, and it turns out he’s been dead for years! She only wants to go back there because nobody here will have her.”

“Claudia, listen. I’ve talked to the root cutter.”

“Who?” Claudia’s face was impressively blank.

He glanced over his shoulder. There was no time to be subtle. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What? What was me?”

He was not going to pretend he had to explain.

The manicured nails dug into his arms. “Who’s been telling you lies?”

“He described you.”

“Who? Gaius, what are you talking about?”

Suddenly he felt weary. “Just tell the truth, Claudia. Please. For the sake of the staff. The investigators will find out sooner or later, anyway.”

“But I didn’t—”

Her protest was cut off by the arrival of Zosimus, backed up by the gatekeeper and the gatekeeper’s dog. Ruso was not allowed onto the senator’s property. An official inquiry was under way. If he had anything to say, he could say it to the investigators when they were ready. In the meantime, he was to stop harassing the bereaved family.

Ruso had never seen Claudia look so frightened as when Zosimus escorted her back toward the gate.