The senator had told his carriage driver to wait at our apartment. If the Camilli drove back to Rome straight away, they would hit the wheeled vehicle ban and be stopped at the city gate, so we delayed their journey by having a very late lunch. Helena went to fetch Albia, who had chosen not to come with us to Portus. She was not a slave; she had the right to free time, and apparently Aulus was no great draw for her. Helena herself enjoyed time alone, so had always allowed the young girl moments with her own thoughts. I settled everyone else in one of the courtyards at the Aquarius. Nowhere else was so convenient and I would not be deterred by an anti-social Cilician. The place was big enough to cope with a large influx, and had a pleasant, respectable atmosphere. If you overlooked the fact that armed pirates accumulated there sometimes, it made an ideal family restaurant. Anyway, there was no sign of Cratidas. We had a good, if slightly subdued meal, which with rather slow service took most of the afternoon. However much we reassured ourselves that Aulus was doing the right thing, and that his ship was sound and well managed, a sea voyage is always dangerous. It would be several weeks before he landed and could send a letter to confirm his safe arrival, then weeks more before the letter found its way to Rome. If Aulus remembered to write. His mother said he had a bad record in that sphere. When we finished, the senator and I wrangled over the bill, but in the end he paid it. I had things to do, but it was only polite to return to the apartment for farewells.
Don't worry, Mama darling Helena was feeling mischievous.
The Daily Gazette says that rumours of pirates operating again are untrue…" As Julia Justa stared in horror, I quickly signalled the driver to start off. After we had watched the carriage disappear, a sense of anticlimax downed us. While the children scampered off, looking for toys they had abandoned the night before, Helena, Albia and I all walked back slowly into the courtyard. It seemed forlorn after our great family banquet. Helena wiped away a tear. I hugged her. Aulus will be all right."
Of course." She became more brisk. Now we are alone, Albia and I have something to show you. While she was here this morning, we had a visitor."
Entertaining a follower?" I teased Albia. She looked hot.
Don't," warned Helena. It was just as well that I came home to fetch her; Albia found him a handful." Now I was a furious head of household. I'll sort him! Who was the bastard?"
A slave called Titus." Titus? That chirpy extrovert who worked for the landlady at the Marine Gate rental, the slave who cleaned Diocles" room. I could imagine how the pushy tyke would be too flirtatious with Albia if he found her alone. He would take her for a slave or freedwoman, for one thing. I looked across at Albia, who was kicking her heels. Helena had interrupted the unwanted advances; there was no harm done. He brought you some things, Marcus Didius." Albia had already learned that I needed efficient reports. First, his excuse was that there were two good tunics Diocles had left at the laundry. These have come to light unexpectedly, so Titus says."
Wrong size for him!" I grinned.
I said this was not enough to earn him a tip."
Excellent. The last girl I kept in the office to take messages was a soft touch."
Lies," murmured Helena, to whom I had been referring. Tell him the rest, Albia."
Notebooks."
Notebooks! I thought we had those, mostly empty."
These new ones are written in. There are quite a lot. I believe Titus had kept them, hoping they might be valuable. Now he is frightened he will get into trouble!" Albia spat. It was a habit we had yet to cure. So he will. Sooner or later, and I think sooner…" Prophesying doom for men gave Albia much satisfaction. Titus said, or he pretended, he had been asked to look after these tablets by your scribe. To put them in a safe place, and not tell anybody. That is why he kept them secret from you. But some men came to the house asking about them yesterday, and Titus is now very scared."
Who scared him?"
He knew no names."
I had a quick look at the tablets," said Helena. I imagined her speed-reading before she rushed back to the Aquarius for lunch. Two different authors, I would say. Some look like old diaries, don't get excited; it's not love affairs of the famous. They are ship's logs, or similar."
Boring! I can do without a load of notes saying wind nor" by nor nor" west, sea choppy; had beans for supper, farted hilariously." Helena had been teaching Albia to read on quiet evenings. Albia must have scanned the tablets too and now piped up, Marcus Didius, it is more like Termessos. sold Jive from the Constantia; good price for the wine… Off Samos, met the Iris. Brisk but a result."
Who wrote these logs?"
It does not say. There are a lot of meetings." Albia was a bright girl. She knew we had been talking about pirates. Most are brisk" and end with a list of good prices."
Sold five what?" I met Helena's eyes. Like me, she suspected the worst.
The lists of sales are endless," Albia told me unhappily. Are they people, these numbers? These fives and tens and threes and even twenties? Are they people, being sold into slavery?"
The tablets are old and battered," Helena tried to reassure her. I think we'll find these events happened many years ago." Realistically, Albia knew that not all stricken people could be saved from their misfortunes as she had been. Eventually she said in a low voice, Wrapped in one of the clean tunics was a sword, Marcus Didius/
Did Titus say anything about it?" Albia saw Titus as one of life's lowest characters. No, he shrugged it off as unimportant, but he is keen to get rid of it to you now." I told her she had better show me, so we went indoors. The sword was a plain, short-bladed model in an ill-fitting, twisted leather scabbard. No soldier or ex-soldier would have given it a second glance, but an imperial palace freedman, brought up among bureaucrats, would not have known it had poor balance and blunt edges. There was rust on the blade, which had never been oiled and looked after, and a great deal more rust where the handle was attached with a crude weld. One sharp blow and I reckoned the ensemble would fall to pieces. I doubted if Diocles had ever used this weapon; he must have had it for reassurance only. So when he went out the last time, Diocles had left the weapon in his room, because he thought he was going somewhere safe, either alone or among people who meant no harm to him. More importantly, he had believed that he would be coming back.