Tabula Rasa(104)

On the short walk back to Ria’s bar she was stopped two or three times by people wanting to know the latest news. She told them and tried to share their delight. Only now that there was hope for Branan was it dawning on her that she had traveled many miles today and barely eaten. She needed to sit down quietly in the company of a good dinner. A rich tasty soup with fresh bread to dunk in it, or . . .

She stopped on the threshold of Ria’s, her hands raised to her face in dismay. There were three people sharing a jug of something at the table beside the counter, and until this moment she had forgotten about all of them. Somewhere the goddess must be laughing. Here was her prayed-for Samain meeting with her family. Her cousin Aemilia and Aemilia’s husband Rianorix had traveled all the way from Coria expecting to celebrate a wedding blessing that was not happening. If that were not bad enough, sitting on the stool next to them was the thin form of Albanus, who had arrived to visit his nephew.

“Cousin!” cried Aemilia. “At last! Where have you been?”

“Don’t worry, mistress!” Virana called from behind the bar. “I’ve told everybody everything!”

Everything? That the wedding blessing was withdrawn, that Albanus’s nephew had disappeared days ago, and that a child had been stolen? No wonder nobody was looking happy.

Aemilia’s artificial curls flopped around her ears as she made a great deal of fuss about the wasted journey, using the fluent Latin that her father had insisted she learn. “We would never have gone to find you at the old man’s farm if we had known, cousin. It was so embarrassing! Thank goodness we brought our own cart for the luggage and we left the children at home.” They had even brought a gift: a pair of fine linen sheets that she managed to mention several times while her husband poured himself another beer and drank it. He looked away when Tilla caught him sneaking a glance at her.

She was glad she was not alone with him. It must be at least three—no, four years. He was little changed. Perhaps a little heavier. No doubt Aemilia would make sure he came home every night for dinner. If the northern raiders had not come and snatched Tilla away, this was the man she would have married. What was that expression Senecio had used about her mother? We were very close at one time. Had her mother and Senecio expected to marry too? And if the pair of them had met again in later years, after they had both grown into different lives, would Senecio have hidden behind his beer and left his wife to do all the talking, as Rianorix was now?

Albanus was clutching his wine cup with both hands and looking intently at Aemilia as if he were waiting for a sign that she might stop talking. “I can only say I am sorry,” Tilla said when she could get a word in.

“We heard about the stolen boy all the way over in Coria,” Aemilia continued, “but of course we didn’t know you had anything to do with it. What a dreadful thing, to lose a child! We left strict instructions with the staff, didn’t we?” She did not wait for her husband to respond. “The children are to be watched at all times. The nursery slave is to watch the children and the housekeeper is to watch the nursery slave and make sure she does what she’s told. You can’t be too careful.”

Tilla said, “Branan is with a—” as Albanus said, “I hear your husband is searching for the boy.” But before Tilla could explain, Aemilia exclaimed, “We did our best to help, you know. I got the staff to search the whole of the brewery and the yard and check the malting house in case that poor boy was in there, although I don’t know why he would be unless he escaped and tried to hide. Of course, if we’d known it was his father doing your wedding blessing, we would never have set out. Oh, and, cousin, do you remember Susanna in the snack bar? She said to wish you well and if she hears anything about the boy she’ll be in touch straightaway.”

Albanus took a quick breath, but he was not fast enough.

“She’ll be so disappointed when I tell her there’s no blessing. Perhaps you could get someone else to do it. Have you thought of that? Now that we’ve come all this way, I’m sure we could find somebody you haven’t upset. Don’t you think so?” She twisted round to survey the other occupants of the bar. “Perhaps the owner here could suggest someone.”

Tilla put a hand on Albanus’s arm. “I am sorry you had a wasted trip too,” she told him. “My husband is away searching for the stolen boy and nobody is here to see you.”

Aemilia turned her attention to Albanus. “It’s such a shame,” she agreed. “Fancy your nephew not being here after you’ve come all that way! You poor man! You’d think somebody would know where he was, wouldn’t you?”