The Governor's Man

by Jacquie Rogers

  Lucius broke in. ‘There isn’t time for your petty revenges now, Centurion. Get the money ready to move. Your story will have to be told later.’ There was a pause, a sound of tearing fabric, and a high-pitched gasp. The boy’s voice moved up an octave, coming quick and breathless. ‘No need for violence, Caesulanus, we’re partners — all in it together. I meant no disrespect.’

  ‘No? Then keep your trap shut, and remember who’s in charge.’

  Tiro played dead while he was hauled out of the wagon and thrown onto the ground. More than ever, he wished he’d never left Londinium.

  ’Stick him in the shed for now,’ Caesulanus said. He heard a door being dragged open. Tiro was bundled into a dark place and fell heavily onto his shoulder. The door was banged shut, and bolted from the outside. Muffled footsteps moved around and then a rhythmic metallic banging started up.

  The smell in the shed was foul. Tiro guessed it had been the home of farm animals, probably sheep, before being pressed into use as a prison. He pulled the wretched cloak off his head using his teeth and lay back tallying his injuries. A sickening bruise at the base of his skull; pain erupting in bursts from the shoulder he’d just landed on; scrapes to elbow and hip. That was about it, with the infernally itching scab on his forehead. Apart from being locked with tied hands in a stinking shed miles away from Vebriacum with several criminals outside, and no way to let Quintus know. And a big ex-military thug who seemed to have taken quite a dislike to him. And his knife gone.

  First things first. He looked around the hut. Empty, apart from a couple of sacks and the animal dung. Nothing useful there. On the plus side, the cloth binding his wrists was nowhere near as strong as the whipcord he routinely carried himself.

  He wriggled his bound hands over a splintered wedge in the wooden wall, rubbing the fabric to and fro over the rough wood. The cloth tore and gave way, at the cost of a deep scratch. He spent a moment rubbing the feeling back into his numb swollen wrists and sucked the scratch to stop it bleeding.

  Better.

  He crouched to look through a knot in the wood. He had a narrow view of Caesulanus and Lucius in a dusty yard. A tall block of wood had been hammered into the ground. Set into the block was what he guessed to be a mould. A man sat on a stool before the block, holding a metal stamp in pincers. A second man wielded a hammer, and Tiro watched as he aimed skilfully and struck a hard blow, forcing the disk down onto the mould.

  ‘Right, on my way,’ said the centurion. ‘If I’m going to be back again before dark, when our cockerel in there has softened up enough to start crowing, I’d best get a shuffle on.’ Caesulanus heaved himself up onto the wagon.

  ‘You can find your own way to Iscalis docks, can’t you?’ he called to Lucius. ‘And check all the coins are there before you take them away. I don’t trust these peasants to count right.’ He shook the reins, and the wagon rolled out of the yard.

  Tiro watched Lucius. He was the one to follow, now he had the denarii. The boy looked quite sick. His face had turned white, sweat was starting out under his eyes. His hands shook, and he stuck them under his armpits as if to hide them. Maybe he also didn’t care for Caesulanus and his manners, thought Tiro.

  ‘You heard, you revolting pigs! Get those coins laid out where I can see them. And they’d better all be true copies.’ If Lucius was trying to sound as frightening as Caesulanus, he had a way to go. His voice was cracked and pitched too high to sound assured. But the counterfeiters seemed impressed, and moved quickly to lay out the coins. They looked anxious as he began counting, muttering under his breath. After a while, he paused to look at the scared men. He sniggered.

  ‘Can’t count, hey?’ Lucius seemed to be getting some confidence back now the big man had gone.

  Tiro wouldn’t be surprised himself if the men were innumerate. He bet they couldn’t read or write either. Just like him, dammit.

  Another giggle, too shrill, burst from Lucius. The young man was back to counting the rolls of coins, grinning and laughing while beads of sweat rolled down his pallid face. The sound made Tiro’s skin crawl.

  Lucius wrote on the docket recording the acceptance of denarii struck against the bullion supplied. Tucking the money into his saddle bag, he let a full-blooded laugh rip out. The counterfeiters stepped aside, faces stricken. Lucius glanced at them. ‘Don’t you see?’ They looked away, as if trying to avoid the infectious gaze of a madman. One man made the sign against the Evil Eye, provoking Lucius to more laughter. Tiro was amazed - had the boy been struck insane by the gods?

  ‘It’s such a joke!’ Lucius was nearly gabbling now. ‘They think it’s all for the cause. Only Fulminata knows, and she’s totally mine.’

  He picked up the laden saddle bag, swayed and nearly fell. Even this seemed to amuse him, and he carried on sniggering while one of the men hurried to fetch his horse. Moments later Lucius had mounted the black stallion and cantered away. The two men looked at each other, one shaking his head. The other slapped him on the shoulder and fetched a jug left under a tree. He poured wine with a shaking hand into a cup. They sat down, passing the cup between them and taking gulps.

  Tiro sat down, wincing as he rubbed the tender spot on his head and calling himself every name under the sun. Stuck. In a bloody country shed. What a fool he’d been, making himself so easy to catch. He winced at the sarcasm the frumentarius would fling his way.

  But it was highly likely the Imperial Investigator would never know what had happened to him. Best guess? Tiro would end up a crumpled body at the bottom of a disused mining shaft. Unmissed, even by Britta. Why would she care? But if he did ever get back to Aquae Sulis, he’d call on her, casual, on his way home to Londinium. If only he could get out of this stinking hut, get rid of the two men outside… Hang on. With Caesulanus gone and the mad boy too, there might be a way after all. They thought him unarmed and helpless. What if they were wrong? He began to grin.

  There’s only two of them left now. Just need to attract their attention. So here’s something that’ll get them moving!

  He’d already checked the back wall of the shed, which was too tough to break down without being noticed. Tiro set to, kicking the back wall and making as much noise as he could. Hopefully enough to get them charging in through the door.

  It worked.

  ‘Come on!’ called one. ‘Let’s smash that noisy bastard into next week. Teach him a lesson. In together!’

  Both of them at once. How thick can you get?

  The bolt was dragged back, and there they stood in the doorway, both with raised hammers. Tiro was ready for them, and much, much quicker. He swung the heavy silver ingot low and hard into the hip of the first man. The man gasped and fell back onto his mate. The second man staggered, but made a recovery and came on. His reward was to get a nasty London headbutt, faster than lightning. A sickening crunch and he sagged like a sack, spark out. Tiro stepped over him to reach the first man, who was yelping with pain and trying vainly to get up. Tiro shrugged, picked up the man’s dropped hammer and dealt a neat sideways blow to the man’s temple. He wasn’t aiming to kill, and he didn’t think he had killed either of them. He hesitated a moment, then left them. They weren’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  Tiro was in a hurry, though. He needed to get to Bo Gwelt after that boy with the silver. But first, he needed to find out where Bo Gwelt was.

  ‘Hey, mister! You got them men sorted. I’m glad. They were nasty to me once, when they caught me watching here. ’

  Tiro swung round. A child in very muddy clothes was sitting on the ground, hidden by a gorse bush on the edge of the clearing. How long had he been there?

  ‘Can you help me, little boy?’

  ‘I’m a girl, not a stupid boy!’

  ‘Of course you’re a girl. What’s your name?’

  ‘Narina.’

  The young voice was a blend of suspicion and intrigue.

  ‘All right, Narina. Can you tell me where I am?’

  ‘By the coiners’ hut, silly. ‘


  Yes, silly. He tried again.

  ‘Is there a town near here? Any soldiers? Or a magistrate?’

  The suspicion on the little face deepened.

  ‘Why should I tell you? Who are you?’

  Tiro took a deep breath, and squatted down to look directly at the girl.

  ‘My name is Tiro and I need to sort out some other nasty men, the ones these men work for. Will you help me?’

  The girl pondered. Tiro hoped he looked trustworthy.

  She seemed to think so.

  ’Yes, there’s a magistrate. Dominus Marcus Aurelianus, he’s a magistrate in Lindinis. Lindinis isn’t really near here, though.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tiro resisted the urge to wail. Dear Jupiter, where in all this rural mud and muck could he get help, quickly?

  ‘But his house is right near here, just down the road. You’re already on his land, Bo Gwelt. I live here too, on Home Farm, cos my dad works for the dominus. Mum helps out at Bo Gwelt villa, and my dad looks after the estate.’ A giggle. ‘Nobody knows what those men you whacked do here, it’s a secret. But I know. They’re from the village. I’ve followed them before and hidden and watched. Other people from the mines bring stuff here in a big wagon, and the village men make coins with the stuff. For some posh gentlemen. And Master Lucius from Iscalis. I’ve seen him too, he visits a lot. Quite often he takes some of the money and puts it in his saddle bags when no-one’s looking. But I’m looking, so I know.’

  Narina tilted her head, considering. ‘Is he one of the bad men you’re trying to stop?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tiro quickly. ‘I think he’s stealing that money. Narina, what else have you seen Lucius do?’

  ‘He just comes to Bo Gwelt a lot to see Domina Claudia. Lady Aurelia runs away when he comes, and hides in the stable. I seen that Lucius sneaking round the house, though.

  ‘And—‘ she paused to make sure Tiro was paying attention, ‘—and some other posh men come here, Master Bulbo an’ that, to check the coins. And one on a big fancy horse. He talked to Master Lucius about taking money to show in Londinium. Master Bulbo said he doesn’t like going south of the river. Dunno what river that is. I heard him say he wouldn’t cross the bridge without a guard, and Lucius said they could stay in the city once they’d done the business. Fancy Master Bulbo being scared of footpads! He’s so big. I wish I could have an adventure in Londinium. Are those men sleeping now? They’re having such a long lie down…’

  Tiro’s head was spinning by now. He managed to interrupt the flow of chatter.

  ‘Narina, you’re a brave girl. I bet you’re clever too. Clever enough to help me. I promise you won’t get into trouble.’ He really hoped now he hadn’t killed either of the unfortunate coiners. They were probably just doing a job to make ends meet.

  ‘Mmm, well, I could, I s’pose. I like mysteries and adventures. Are you in a mystery, Mister, or an adventure?’

  Both, thought Tiro.

  ‘Thank you, Narina. What I need is to get to Bo Gwelt and speak to Magistrate Aurelianus urgently. Could you take me there without anyone knowing?’

  The girl looked at him scornfully.

  ‘Course I can. I live here, I know all the secret ways.’

  Of course you do, Narina.

  The urchin girl and her new friend left, heading cross-country through birch and alder trees along the low Polden ridge to the big house at Bo Gwelt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julia drew in a breath of pleasure as they approached the golden-hued courtyard villa. It faced north across the river Bruella towards the Mendips, overlooking marshland, arable meadows and low scrubby woods. Her sister-in-law Claudia complained the house was old-fashioned and drafty, and lately Marcus had given in and agreed to install a hypocaust system in the west wing. But Bo Gwelt remained Bo Gwelt.

  Nevertheless, she was worried by Velvinna’s reports. She had sent a message to her old friend’s house before they left for the Summer Country, but no reply came back. Neither was she happy about leaving her patients at the clinic, although Piso had assured her that he would try not to kill anyone in her absence. Underlying all these lifted a swell of confusion about the return of Quintus. The independent life she had built since Aurelia’s birth was showing cracks. Had she really been content, alone? She pushed doubt aside.

  She passed the ornamental pond in the front garden with its red-gold fish flickering in the water, and walked through the house to the sunny garden at the back. Several bee-hives, abuzz, were dotted among the clipped hedges at the end of the garden. Above the loud honk of swans in the valley came the soft hoot of an owl. She found her older brother seated in a high-backed chair, dozing in a pool of sunshine. He was togate as usual, with a woollen shawl over his shoulders She watched as he drowsed in the warmth. Next to Marcus sat a thin olive-skinned man with a long nose, books heaped on his lap.

  ‘My lady,’ he nodded to her, smiling.

  ‘Demetrios, how good to see you! How is my brother?’

  ‘Much the same, although I fear his eyes are deteriorating.’

  ‘You are still making sage tea for him?’

  ‘Of course, my child. And I strive constantly to keep your brother away from honey cakes, sweet compotes, and too much bread.’

  ‘His urine?’

  ‘Still dark and sweet-smelling, I am afraid.’

  ‘I may be going blind, but I can hear you clearly, Julia.’ Marcus was awake and smiling at her. She was taken aback at how tired he looked. ‘May I remind you that Demetrios is my employee?’

  The Greek laughed. ‘And as your servant, I am surely entitled to worry about your health, Dominus.’

  ‘No need to pretend respect for my sake, Demetrios, old friend. We both know I am not getting any better. Now let me have a private talk with my sister before my wife appears to organise us all.’

  Once the stooped tutor had departed, Julia sat and took Marcus’s wrist to check the pulse. Marcus humoured her until she let his hand drop.

  ’Now,’ he said, ‘I imagine your sudden desire to visit us means Aurelia has been telling you how awful her life is, and begging you to intervene?’

  ‘I was worried when I heard about the projected marriage with Lucius Claudius.’

  ‘Then let me reassure you about my arrangements for Aurelia.’

  Some time later Julia had heard all about his recent will bequeathing all his property to his “beloved daughter Aurelia, under the guardianship of her aunt Julia Aureliana until she comes of age”.

  Julia was surprised. ‘What does Claudia think of that?’

  ‘She doesn’t know. She will have some income from the estate, which will then revert to Aurelia and her heirs on Claudia’s death or her departure from this house. I have made my wife many valuable gifts during our marriage. Claudia will not go hungry. And we will never have a child between us now.’

  On the subject of Aurelia’s marriage, Marcus put Julia’s mind further at rest. ‘While I am alive, Aurelia will not marry before I think best. That age has not yet arrived.’ They both laughed, picturing the impulsive Aurelia streaking across a meadow with head down low on one of her beloved horses. ‘When I am dead, Julia, you as her guardian will be the best judge of a suitable marriage for her. She will be mistress of Bo Gwelt, and I hope she will have your support until someone she truly loves shares that burden with her. I have made provision for the servants. With your approval, I would like Demetrios to continue as tutor and advisor to her.’

  Marcus closed his eyes, his face very pale. Julia stood quietly, but he roused again. ‘One last thing: I am fully aware that Claudia wishes Aurelia to marry her nephew. Lucius Claudius is a troubled and dangerous young man. It is plain to me that his father Claudius Bulbo cannot control his wild fancies and unpleasant acts. I do not envisage Lucius ever making a suitable husband for my daughter.’ His eyelids drooped back down; he said softly, ‘I am tiring, Julia, and can’t spend my remaining energies openly fighting Claudia. Rest assured that Aurelia will not marry Luc
ius against her will.’

  Julia took the chance to mention Velvinna’s fears of discontent among the Durotriges, and her warning about that evening’s meeting in Lindinis. Marcus nodded, sighing.

  ’Since I have been ill with the Sweet Sickness I have largely withdrawn from public life. Perhaps Demetrios and Morcant will be better able to advise you.’

  Julia pressed his hand reassuringly and stood to leave, wanting Marcus to rest.

  ‘Julia? One more thing. I should have said this to you years since, but I didn’t want to upset you, or my darling Albania who was so devastated at not giving me a child. I supposed when we decided to adopt Aurelia that she was the offspring of a villager in trouble. But I knew the moment I set eyes on our tiny newborn that she was your daughter. I want to thank you for bringing us so much happiness. I hope the Gods will reward you with your own joy one day.’

  The laundry door at the back of the house flew open with a bang. A child of eight or so ran into the garden, followed by Britta and another young woman, red-faced from steam and shyness. ‘Narina! Narina! Come back here, you naughty girl!’

  Narina ran straight to Marcus, and climbed up onto his lap. He smiled; it was clear he was fond of this little girl.

  ‘Oh, Dominus! I’ve been having an adventure!’

  ‘Have you, little menace?’

  ‘Yes sir, but it’s a secret, so you mustn’t say anything. Specially not to the domina. I promised.’ Marcus frowned a little at Julia.

  Julia lifted the child, muddy tunic and boots unheeded, and settled her onto her own lap. ‘You remember me, don’t you, Narina?’ Narina’s mother was standing nearby looking worried. ‘It’s fine, Gwenn, she’s no trouble. Let her stay with us a while.’ The young woman ducked her head, and went back indoors.

  ’Now, then, little monkey, tell your story.’

  They soon heard that Narina had brought home a fighting man with a funny accent called Tiro, who was chasing bad men. He was now with Morcant at Home Farm. The man wanted to speak to Magistrate Aurelianus.