When I swam to consciousness again, I heard Glaucus’ voice. ‘Well, it is a waste of time going on – he’ll tell us nothing in this state. I’ll have to wait till he recovers a little, and then we’ll see what whips and hooks can do. I will be back, so don’t you start on him. I don’t want him dying before he begins to talk. Mars knows what he has already told the governor. I never trust these governmental spies.’
Whips and hooks! Agony already flowed through me like a hot red tide, but fear forced me to listen.
‘Will you be gone long, Mightiness?’
‘Not long. I’m going to find Fortunatus and bring him in. I want to talk to him, too. Bedding Monnius’ wife, of all people! Monnius – one of our biggest sponsors! I’ll have the fellow taken under guard and locked up until the race. Pluto and all the Furies take the man! He’s endangered the whole system with his womanising. If I could find another driver of his quality I’d strangle him with my own hands and use someone else.’
‘You want him got rid of, Mightiness? It would be a pleasure.’
I heard Glaucus give a dry bark of laughter. ‘Not now. There’s still Camulodunum to come. That should be a very profitable day. Who is going to back an unknown driver, and against Citus too? Too bad the poor creature will be lame. Never fear. Fortunatus will do as I tell him. He wants his share of the money – and there should be plenty. Thousands for us all. In the meantime, you look after this interfering wretch. Don’t touch him unless he tries to escape. However, if I haven’t come by sundown, then he’s yours. Do what you like with him. You can dump all three bodies in the river after dark – put them in a sack and make sure you weight them well. I’ll see that extra rations are waiting for you at the barracks.’
He was gone. Whether it was pain or fear or hunger I don’t know, but I was at the end of myself. A sort of shivering terror seized me, and I lay there semi-conscious, though whether for minutes or hours I could not tell. At last I was aware of one of the guards stirring me with his boot.
‘Here, Rupius! Leave him alone. You heard what Glaucus said. He’s coming back— What’s that?’
A sudden blinding flash of light – was that the door? – and then there was a roaring in my ears. My heart seemed to contract with fright, and the world misted over. I dimly knew I was hallucinating – I had known the same thing in a fever. Strange shadows danced before my eyes and there were indistinct and distant noises, dull thumps and shouts. One long, thin scream, then silence. Utter blackness fell.
This must be death, I thought, and closed my eyes.
When the soul leaves the body, so the Romans say, it travels to the nether world, transported by the ferryman across the Styx. I had never been sure that I believed the tale – we Celts have our own explanation of demise – but I was dully comforted to find that it was true. I found myself rising up, without any conscious effort on my part, as if I was being borne upwards and outwards into a place of sweet air and glorious blinding light.
I expected the agony in my chest to cease, but that did not happen. Instead I appeared to be floating in a kind of welcoming green haze which swallowed me from time to time and eased the pain. I abandoned myself to it and allowed myself to be carried along. Literally carried, it occurred to me after a while. Not in a litter. Pairs of strong arms were bearing me along. Lots of arms, supporting my back, my head, my legs – all of them gentle and considerate, and carrying me as though I were a feather.
Blackness descended again, heavy and palpable, like a blanket shrouding my face and limbs. I concentrated on opening my eyes but everything was dark. Perhaps it was always so, in the other world. I seemed to feel the weight of darkness on my skin. I tried to raise a feeble hand to touch it, but it was useless. It seemed my elbows were still bound, and I could scarcely move my limbs in any case.
But the effort was enough. The blackness lifted of its own accord, the floating feeling stopped and I was aware of many forms around me and a strong, dark, bearded shape at my side, although the whole scene dissolved at once when I tried to focus on any part of it.
‘Libertus? Citizen? Can you hear me?’ Someone was calling me by name.
I moved my lips, but no sound came out. ‘Who . . .?’ I managed finally.
A deep and reassuring voice. ‘It is the boatman.’
I nodded inwardly. The Styx. That seemed fitting.
‘Lie still and do not worry, citizen. We’ll soon have you aboard. My crew have got you now. Praise be to Jupiter you are still alive. A little longer and we might have been too late.’
Alive? I had begun to think that I was dead. I tried to make sense of it in my fuddled brain. It took me a little time to work it out, but of course! This was the boatman who had brought me here. Somehow I had been rescued. I struggled to raise myself a little, but a firm hand pushed me gently back.
‘Only a short distance now, citizen, and we’ll have you on the barge. The governor has a medicus at the palace, and once we get you there he’ll have those wounds bathed and salved in no time. For now, the most important thing is rest.’
‘What happened?’ I tried to ask. It was no use. My voice was no more than a quaver. No one heard.
The crew – I could see now that it was the crew – had made a sort of cradle of their arms and were carrying me between them. At a signal from the bargemaster they set off again at a smooth trot. Down past the warehouse, through the gate and out on to the waiting vessel. Only there did they set me gently down, with one cloak folded up beneath my head, and another – which had served as the blanket covering my face – tucked over me to keep me warm.
I needed it. I found that I was shivering, all at once, and the pot of cold water which someone was holding to my lips was the sweetest drink I ever tasted.
‘He’s drinking!’ It was Junio’s voice. ‘I thought those devils had killed him.’ He lifted the container to my lips again.
I drank, and spluttered. Water trickled into me like life itself. ‘And I thought they’d . . . killed you.’ The words came with a struggle but I was making myself heard.
‘Master! You are awake!’ He was bathing my face now, holding a wet cloth to my temples. I felt the mist recede and the pain in my chest, which had been ebbing as the mist increased, stabbed me again.
I winced. But my mind was clearer now and I opened my eyes more fully. Junio saw it. At once he dropped to his knees beside me and began to kiss my hand urgently.
‘Oh, master!’ he said. ‘Thank the gods! This is all my fault. I should never have left you unattended.’
I shook my head. I was the one who had gone off on my own, without waiting for Junio to return. And I had walked unaided into a trap. ‘What . . .?’
He clasped my hand so fiercely that it hurt. ‘I brought your message to the boat, dear master, but as I was delivering it, who should come creeping out of the warehouse but Eppaticus.’
I had closed my eyes to listen, but at the mention of that name they flew open again. ‘Epp—?’
‘I was sure that it was him from your description. There cannot be two Celts in the city of that gigantic size, although I could not see his pigtail; he had pulled the hood of his cloak over him. I got the impression that he had been hiding in the grain store, waiting for you to leave.’
That would not surprise me. I tried to nod.
‘I knew that you would want him followed. I thought I stood least chance of being recognised – the bargemaster is bearded and conspicuous – so I asked him to find you and tell you where I was, while I set out after the Celt.’ His voice was wretched with remorse. ‘I was trying to be clever, master. I should never have done it. I should have come straight back to you.’
‘I tried to find you, citizen,’ the boatman said, swimming hazily back into my view. I had been dimly aware of him barking orders in the background, and now I could detect the splash of oars and the gentle movement of the barge.
The bargemaster crouched down beside me, his dark beard very close so that I was sure to hear. He spoke very slowly
. ‘I went back to where he said he’d left you, but there was no sign of you. I even found my way to the factio, in case you had gone there, but the fellow at the gate told me they hadn’t seen you.’
Liars, I thought. No doubt Glaucus had put them up to that. ‘Go on,’ I murmured through thick lips.
‘I didn’t know what to do, citizen. I wandered around all the streets, and then I caught sight of that fellow you were chasing when you left. He was marching along with a thin slave and pair of big uniformed Blue guards wearing swords.’
He looked at me to make sure I had followed this account. I signalled encouragement as best I could. My brain seemed to be functioning again, but I was having trouble forming words.
It seemed the bargemaster had followed at a distance, reasoning that Glaucus might lead him to me. ‘I kept them in sight, and in the end I saw him turn down into a most unlikely lane. Not the sort of place you would expect a man to go. Nothing but midden heaps and piles of builder’s waste. When I got there he had disappeared, but there was only one place he could have gone, a storage entrance into a deserted house. I didn’t like the look of that at all, but I was no match for four of them, especially since two of them were armed. I came back and got the boys. We had no swords but oarsmen are stout fellows. A broken oar, some grapples and some rope . . . we hurried back, and found you just in time.’
‘Glaucus,’ I managed to say, ‘did he escape?’
‘We didn’t see him.’ The bargeman shook his head. ‘Only the two team guards. Like tigers, they were, when they came for us and there was a bit of a struggle. One of my fellows cracked one with the oar and laid him out at once. The other one put up a fight, but he was outnumbered ten to one: someone hit him with a grapple-hook, and he went down screaming like a pig. We had no idea what we would find. We almost fell over your body on the stairs. When we saw what those brutes had done to you, my boys were none too gentle, I can tell you. It will be some little time before those two wake up, if they ever do. We’ve left them in the cellar under guard. We’ll go back and see if they’re alive or dead when we’ve got you to a medicus – and we might as well pick up those slaves as well. We’ll have to return them to their owners some time.’
Beside me I had heard Junio catch his breath. ‘Slaves?’
‘Two of them down there in the cellar,’ said the boatman. ‘Both dead.’
‘Eppaticus has got slaves for sale,’ Junio said. ‘I saw them. I did find out where he was going – he has a big barn just outside the walls. A sort of warehouse. He seems to sell everything in there, from pots to pageboys – though there was no grain that I could see. Were these slaves some of his?’
‘No chance of that,’ the boatman said. ‘We brought them up into the light to have a look at them. One of them was the Blue factio slave I’d seen before. Fallen out with his masters, by the look of it. The other, I’m very much afraid, belonged to Pertinax. He was wearing palace uniform. The governor won’t be very pleased by that.’
‘A palace uniform?’ Junio looked at me. ‘Superbus?’
I tried to explain that I hadn’t actually seen him, but that I was sure it was. What came croaking from my lips was something else. ‘I thought it was you, at first.’ I was shaking again. ‘Lying there.’
Junio squeezed my hand. ‘You did?’
‘All stiff and dead. I almost fell over it. The body. In the dark.’
There was a little pause. Then Junio said, ‘If it was stiff, master, you weren’t thinking straight. You have seen dead bodies many times. If it was already stiff, it could not have been me. I was talking to you only a short time before.’
He was right. I should have worked that out. It would have saved me a lot of anguish, though it made me feel no better now to realise that.
Junio was grinning at me cheerfully, pleased with his deduction.
‘Impudent wretch!’ I muttered, but he only grinned the more. All at once I felt a little more human. ‘More water,’ I commanded, and he brought it to me, supporting my head tenderly while I drank.
I was hurt, shocked and exhausted, but I was alive and so was he. Life was not wholly cruel. I lay back and let the barge take me to the governor’s palace.
Chapter Twenty
The reception that awaited me when I arrived could not have been more gracious and concerned if I had been the Emperor Commodus himself. As soon as Junio got ashore and the events of the day were told, a whole army of slaves, carrying beds, cushions, blankets and reviving cordials, was sent to bring me home. There was even a priest in my room when I arrived, scattering libations to every god in the pantheon, and I heard later that an ox was sacrificed – to the delight of the barge crew, who were invited to eat the parts of it not wanted by the deities.
Junio and the retinue of slaves half carried me to my bed, where I was soon visited by a medicus. He eased and bathed away my bloodstained clothes – a process which almost made me pass out again – and chewed up soothing herbs to treat my cuts. His salves and ointments made me sweat and swear, but once the initial sting had passed I could feel the heat subsiding from my burns. Then he bound up my wounds, dressed me in a spare slave’s tunic from the palace and gave me a strong potion to drink which ushered me into instant oblivion.
When I dreamed, it was of furnaces. I was in a dark cavern full of crawling things, but when I opened my mouth to scream, blessed cool water trickled through my lips – and somehow I knew that it was Junio, giving me a welcome sponge to drink. I sank back in relief, and slept again.
I awoke to find the governor himself at my bedside, with a small regiment of slaves behind him.
‘Good afternoon, my friend,’ he greeted me. ‘I trust you wake a little more refreshed?’
I moved my head and limbs exploratorily. I ached in every fibre, and my chest felt as if it had been carried in a brazier, but my body seemed to answer to my will, and although it was acutely painful, I could move.
‘I think so, Excellence,’ I said, struggling to sit up. It seemed improper to be lying down while the most powerful man in Britain was standing at my feet. My mouth felt like a furnace, and I was grateful for the beaker of water which, at the governor’s signal, one of the house-slaves pressed into my hands. Something occurred to me. ‘Good afternoon, you say,’ I said when I had moistened my lips. It must have been midday when I went to bed. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
Pertinax’s stern face softened in a smile. ‘Only a day or so.’ He must have seen my look of consternation. ‘We have been watching you. The medicus thought you should be left to sleep, but I asked him to fetch me as soon as you awoke. He said that you were stirring, so I came. He will look in again tomorrow, he assures me.’ He looked at me anxiously. ‘For now, if you are sufficiently recovered, I want to hear your version of what occurred. I have heard some of it from my bargeman, of course. That fellow should be whipped for letting you be harmed.’
I drained the rest of the beaker in a gulp. I found that I was hungry, which was an encouraging sign. My recollections of the day before were hazy and confused, but I managed to piece together an account of the significant events. ‘And do not blame your boatman,’ I added. ‘I owe my life to him.’
Pertinax nodded thoughtfully. ‘Those two ruffians he captured are both dead. One of them never recovered from his injury, and the other was cut down trying to escape. A pity. We shall get nothing from them now.’
The words reminded me so forcefully of my own experience that for a moment I felt quite faint again. ‘What about Glaucus, Excellence? He was the one who tortured me. Have you captured him?’
The governor shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not. I sent troops to arrest him at the factio – Junio said he was connected with the team – but I think he found out somehow we were after him. I’ve left a guard on the building where they held you, but he has not been back. He seems to have disappeared from the city without trace and taken Fortunatus with him.’
Something half heard drifted back to me. I hoisted myself higher
on my pillows and tried to look intelligent. ‘I think you will find them at Camulodunum next week,’ I said.
Pertinax looked doubtful. ‘I thought that Fortunatus was injured – or pretending to be.’
‘He will be racing,’ I said, with sudden certainty. ‘No doubt he will grow a beard and dye his hair and be registered at the course under some other name, or perhaps he will just make a last-minute recovery, but he will race, I’m sure. Just as I’m sure that Citus, the Reds’ new wonder horse, will mysteriously go lame, unless a careful watch is kept on his stable.’
‘Glaucus told you this?’
‘Not in so many words, Excellence. He was talking to his guards and he thought I was unconscious, as I nearly was. But that is what will happen, I’d put money on it. As I’m sure that Glaucus and his team already have.’ I handed my empty cup to Junio, who refilled it instantly. ‘As for Fortunatus, I have not seen the man, but I am almost certain that he feigned that accident at Verulamium. And the team coach knew it, too. Someone paid them handsomely for that – Glaucus himself, no doubt.’ My brain seemed to be functioning, if nothing else was. ‘He does more than run the team’s finances, Excellence: I think he runs a private gambling syndicate – and tries to improve his chances by ensuring the result.’
Pertinax looked grave. Both of these things were crimes, with serious penalties. ‘You think the whole Blue factio are involved in this?’
‘I doubt that very much. The fewer people involved, the greater the share of the profits and the less chance of someone betraying the rest to the authorities. But there is a lot of money in this, Excellence. Glaucus talked of making thousands from one race – and that was for each of them!’
‘Could he be sure of that?’
‘I think he could. All the money was on the Blues at Verulamium – so anyone who bet against them stood to win handsomely. At Camulodunum the opposite applies. The Reds are clearly favourites there, with Fortunatus hurt – and they have their wonderful new horse as well. Of course, Glaucus plans to tamper with the horse, just to make sure. Hardly anyone will be betting on the Blues at that meeting – their substitute driver is virtually unknown. So Glaucus will wager for the Blue team at the course and get attractive odds. Meantime, his illegal syndicate will privately take huge bets for the Reds. Both ways, they win.’
The Chariots of Calyx Page 18
