Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “Business and pleasure together.” He leaned back and stretched out his long legs.

  “I think I can guess the pleasure. And the business might be connected with a band of pirates?”

  “Not directly, though I’m afraid I shan’t be able to avoid dealing with them. But the Emperor’s had a report from a Roman landowner, a fairly new settler, that the Parisi tribesmen near the coast are making trouble, and may be hatching some kind of conspiracy against Rome.”

  “That would be Ostorius Magnus complaining about Chief Bodvocus, I expect.”

  He spread his hands and gave me a rueful smile. “I might have guessed you’d know all about it. I swear you get news of events before they’ve even happened! I don’t know why I don’t just set up my headquarters in your bar-room, and gather intelligence from there.”

  “Isn’t that what I’m always telling you? But how does Caesar come into this? Does Magnus have connections at court?”

  “One of his old army friends is highly placed in the Praetorian Guard.” He bent close and kissed me. “But don’t let’s talk about it now. We’ll have to face work soon enough, but I want this afternoon to be for us two. Can you really leave Margarita to run the bar?”

  “Just watch me! There’s only one thing I must do, and that’s at sunset. But we’ve plenty of time before then.”

  We had more than enough time for love. We flew like birds soaring over the green hills, absorbed in each other to the exclusion of everything else. But even birds must leave the sky sometime, and glide gently back to earth.

  “I’m hungry,” Quintus announced.

  “So am I.” I fetched the tray of food Margarita had brought, and served each of us a plate with bread, olives, and slices of sausage, while he poured more wine.

  “This is a feast!” he exclaimed with his mouth full. “And while we eat, you can tell me what you know about Ostorius Magnus and Bodvocus, and these accursed Gauls.”

  He listened without interrupting while I went through the events of the last few days in order, and stopped me when I came to the shipwreck with its unpleasant cargo.

  “What was the head like?”

  “He had long fair hair, a pale complexion, no beard, blue eyes, no scars. A youngish man I’d say, not more than thirty-five. You can see him for yourself if you like. He’s in one of our out-buildings. The funeral’s at sunset.”

  “No, there’s no need. I just wanted to be sure.”

  “Was it one of the boat’s crew?”

  “No. Merda, it’s a pity I missed Lucius. I hoped to catch him before he left Eburacum, but I was too late. I have to see him, it’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’ll ride over to the coast tomorrow. I hope he’s not feeling too downcast about the missing gold? It wasn’t his fault.”

  “I told him that, but I he was depressed about it, and annoyed, because he thought the Sea Horse had been under observation the whole time after it came ashore. And…” But something stopped me telling Quintus that Lucius knew the identity of the man in the chest.

  “And?” Quintus prompted.

  “And,” I improvised, “he reckons that if Voltacos stole the cargo, he must have had help from someone ashore. Perhaps even the fishermen who appeared to be so helpful.”

  “He probably did, but that isn’t the point. Can I tell you something in confidence?”

  “Of course not. I’ll spread it all over Brigantia. Really, Quintus, don’t you know by now that I can keep secrets?”

  He took my hand. ”Sorry. It’s just that this is sensitive. The gold was never in the Sea Horse at all.”

  “What?”

  “It was removed before it sailed from Londinium, and a substitute chest put in to replace it.”

  “But Lucius said he helped prepare that cargo himself. He said—and here’s another secret I’ve managed to keep!—that it was a chest full of gold coin to bribe some Caledonian chieftain.”

  “So it was. But just before it was due to go north, our agents in Caledonia sent word that the chieftain Caesar was about to honour with such a marvellous gift was playing fast and loose with us. He was going to take the gold and then lead a collection of natives tribes across our frontier and down into Brigantia. Using, if you please, Caesar’s gold to finance it.”

  “Devious, but pretty much in character for those northern tribes. Why didn’t you just stop the boat sailing?”

  “The Governor’s advisers never do anything simply if they can introduce a complication or two. They decided to let the Sea Horse go as intended but minus cargo, and act as bait to attract any pirates along its route north. The plan was that if raiders tried to capture it, our men on board, plus the warship that was escorting it, would be able to capture then.”

  “Some plan!”

  He shrugged. “I never said it was a good plan. One of the Governor’s new young men dreamed it up. He’s fresh over here from Rome, and as green as a lettuce leaf.”

  “So the shipment of gold wasn’t so much a secret as a lie.”

  “Exactly so. Our agents further up the coast spread a few choice rumours about the value of it. The gods know if they did any good.”

  “But why add such a horrible touch, including that head in the box? That was done in Londinium too, presumably?”

  He nodded. “It was meant to be horrible. If the boat eventually made it to Caledonia, we wanted to teach the chieftain a lesson. The head belonged to someone he knew, one of our men in Londinium who’d turned traitor.”

  “A traitor? Are you sure?”

  “No doubt about it. His name was Rollus, and he’d been involved in the negotiations with the Caledonians, and switched sides. We found out he’d been encouraging his new master to take our money and run. What’s the matter, Aurelia? You’ve gone as white as marble.”

  “Nothing. Just the thought of that head, the way we found it in the basket.” But my mind was in turmoil. So the long-lost brother Rollus was a traitor! It wasn’t a family connection to be desired, even though it was Rollus who had sought out Lucius and made all the running, not the other way round. But how many people knew that Lucius and Rollus had become friends? If Lucius had only told the immediate family, we could keep it secret. But then if we did, and it was discovered later, that would make us look like traitors too.

  “Something’s wrong,” Quintus said gently. “Why not tell me? Whatever it is, I’ll help if I can, you know that.” He slid his arm round me. I wanted desperately to confide in him, and perhaps indeed he could help us. But should I reveal our secret to him without asking Lucius first?

  “It’s difficult, Quintus. I don’t know.”

  “It’s about the head that was in the boat, isn’t it? You know who he was. Otherwise why would it matter if he was a traitor?”

  “Yes. The trouble is it’s a secret. I don’t just mean officially, I mean it’s private Aurelius family business. So if I tell you, you’ll be discreet?”

  ”I’ll spread it all over Brigantia, of course.”

  So I told him. I expected he might be shocked, or at least surprised, but he was excited, and made me report everything Lucius had told us about Rollus. I left nothing out, and as I saw his growing interest, I became more and more worried about how the situation might be misunderstood.

  “Quintus, you’ve got to understand Lucius was only interested in a possible family connection with the man, not in his work. He’d no idea about any treachery…”

  “Of course he hadn’t. Lucius is in no danger, his loyalty’s well enough established. But he may have met some of Rollus’ contacts and be able to lead us to other men who are working against Rome. This could be a real breakthrough. As for his not knowing about the treachery, I think we’ll find he did know.”

  “No, Quintus, he didn’t. I can swear to that.”

  “But he did, Aurelia! He knew, or suspected, right from the start.” His purple-blue eyes were full of mischief. “He was investigating Rollus, playing along with him i
n order to find out exactly what he was up to. And the sooner he realises that’s what he was doing, the better.”

  Relief flooded into me. Of course, the obvious solution, the answer to any accusations, should they happen. I hugged Quintus, but he pulled gently away from me and stood up.

  “This makes it more urgent than ever that I talk to him.” He glanced through the open window, assessing the height of the sun. “If I leave now on a fast horse, I can get a good part of the way to the coast by dark, say as far as Albia’s. Then tomorrow morning early I can see Lucius.”

  My heart sank. We’d had such a short time together, I couldn’t bear the thought of it ending so soon. “I haven’t any fast horses available. And even if I had, the wold country’s not a safe area to be riding through towards the end of the day when the roads are deserted.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “So you say. But if you’re wrong, I can’t afford to lose a fast horse.”

  I saw the beginnings of a smile. “You don’t think I should go then?”

  “Quintus Antonius Delfinus, if you go away again today, it’ll be over my dead body.”

  He sat down again, smiling as he picked up his wine-mug. “On second thoughts, I ought not to miss Rollus’ funeral.”

  “Gods, the funeral! Shouldn’t I cancel it, now I know who—I mean what—Rollus really was?”

  “Cancelling it at such short notice would cause too much comment. Let it go ahead as you’ve planned it. After all, traitor or not, the man was still your half-brother.”

  So Rollus got a more dignified send-off than he deserved, and for the rest of the evening Quintus and I forgot about him altogether.

  Chapter XIV

  Next morning we breakfasted in my private sitting-room, but after that we both knew play-time was over. I looked into the kitchen to check that everything was running smoothly. It was, except that Cook was moaning because too many of the spring cabbages were being eaten by caterpillars. I suggested he should invent a way of cooking the caterpillars themselves, but he didn’t see the joke.

  Margarita smiled at me. “Don’t expect any sensible culinary suggestions from Aurelia this morning, Cook. She’s got other things on her mind.”

  “Of course I have, very important things. I’m visiting our esteemed Chief Councillor later on, aren’t I?”

  I found Quintus near the big paddock in earnest conversation with Secundus. “I’ve just been hearing about young Victor. I didn’t know he’d been discharged. And I didn’t know he’d come home.”

  “Come home? I didn’t know either.” I turned to Secundus. “When did he arrive? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He arrived yesterday very late, while you were holding that funeral ceremony. Margarita said you weren’t to be disturbed.”

  I felt a pang of guilt, but only a small one. “How is he?”

  “They’ve patched him up pretty well. He can ride all right without using the fingers of his left hand, although he says it’s more tiring that way. But he’s up and about now, and I reckon he’ll be glad you’re here, Quintus Antonius. He always had a lot of time for you. Mebbe you can help cheer the poor lad up. Try and make him see that having to leave the cavalry isn’t the end of everything, which he thinks it is.”

  “Maybe I can, at that.” Quintus looked thoughtful. “Yes, maybe I can.”

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  Secundus nodded towards the next paddock. “He’s in there, looking over the horses and mules. There’s quite a lot of new stock since he was last home. He was quite taken with yon flashy white one of yours,” he said to Quintus.

  “So I should hope! It’ll need regular exercise, of course. If Victor has time to spare, I’d appreciate it if he’d take him out for me later.”

  Secundus smiled. “I’ll tell him.”

  “ I’d like a chance to talk to him, but without making a big thing of it. Aurelia and I have to go into Oak Bridges this morning to see Silvanius Clarus. Could Victor drive us in a raeda?”

  I wondered what Quintus was up to. Last night he’d been talking about leaving to see Lucius urgently. Now he’d just invited himself to my meeting with Clarus.

  But Secundus’ smile broadened. “I don’t know. Let’s ask him.” He put two fingers into his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, and then called, “Victor! Someone to see you here!”

  Titch came walking across the paddock, and I hardly recognised him. His body was much the same, compact and lithe, and his left hand was out of sight, tucked away under his tunic. But his face was quite changed. He still had bright red hair and ears that stuck out, but instead of the alert eyes and the cheeky grin that we were all used to, there was a sullen stillness about him. He strolled over to us slowly, looking down, and when he did raise his eyes, they had no sparkle in them.

  “Hello, Victor,” I said. “Your dad’s told me they’ve discharged you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you,” he said dully.

  Quintus held out his hand. “Victor, it’s good to see you. You’re something of a hero, I gather. We’re all proud of you.”

  They shook hands, and Titch grunted, “Some hero, falling off me horse and getting me arm broke! And I’m finished as a soldier now. Finished altogether, if you want the truth.”

  “No you’re not.” It was my instinctive reply, meant to comfort him, but I should have known such facile words would only upset him more.

  “No? Then what do you reckon I’m good for? You going to give me a job here, are you?”

  “Yes, I am. There’ll always be a job here for you, Victor, if you want it.”

  That at least made him look me directly in the face. “That’s good of you, Mistress Aurelia. Thank you. But…”

  Quintus finished the sentence for him. “Being a stable-hand at a mansio isn’t what you want, is it?”

  He shook his head. “I want to be a soldier. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of, ever since I was a bairn. When I was accepted for the cavalry, it was like me dreams had all come true. And when we went into battle, I felt it was where I should be. I could make a difference somehow, fight for the Empire, show the barbarians what it means to be a Roman.” He was animated now, and we saw the familiar, lively, determined character we’d all liked so much. But the animation died as he added, “Now I’ve got nothing left to live for. I wish the barbarians had killed me, along with me mates.”

  Quintus said gently. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’re lucky to be alive, lad.”

  “Oh aye? And what would you know about it? You’ve got a job you like, a good job that’s worth summat.” Suddenly he was tense, furious, as if he needed anger to give him strength. “And don’t call me ‘lad’! Don’t you ever call me that again! I’m a man, and I’ll not have anyone treating me like a boy.”

  “He didn’t mean…” I began, but Quintus waved me quiet.

  “Calm down, Victor, and don’t take offence where there’s none intended. You’re not a boy, I know that. You’re one of the brightest young men I’ve come across lately. And you can still fight for the Empire, if it’s what you want to do, only in a different way.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “I’ll tell you, but this isn’t the time. Look, Aurelia and I have to go into Oak Bridges this morning to see Councillor Silvanius, and we need a driver. Your dad says the horse-boys here have their hands full. Are you too grand to drive a carriage these days?”

  “Me? Why, no, I suppose not. But I don’t know if I can.”

  “You can. The question is, will you? As a favour to us?”

  “Well…” He hesitated, then shook his head and dropped his gaze. “No, I reckon I need a day or two before I’m ready to face folk. You’d best find someone else.”

  “Why? You’ve come home a hero. A man who saved his squadron’s standard from capture. That’s what people round here think. The sooner they see you in person, the better. Face them now, that’s my advice.�
��

  “I don’t need your advice, thanks all the same. I wish you and everyone else would stop telling me what to do. Nobody knows what it’s like for me.”

  “I do,” Quintus answered steadily. “I know very well.”

  Victor looked up in surprise. “How’s that?”

  “Why do you think I left the army? I was an officer when your father was serving in Germania, you know that. I was an engineer, I specialised in designing and building bridges. I loved the work, and thought it was what I wanted to do for my whole life. But I was injured one day, not in battle, but falling from some scaffolding. I hurt my back so badly I could hardly stand for a while. It got a little better after a few months, but it was still painful, and the doctors said I’d never be able to ride any distance again. So eventually I was discharged.” He paused and flexed his shoulders. “They were wrong, as it happened, but it took me a year to find a doctor who could really help me. He put me on a regime of exercises and diet to get my full strength back. By that time I’d—well, I’d joined a different kind of service, which I preferred. And still do.”

  “I never knew,” Titch said. “Is your back all right now?”

  “It is, except for the occasional twinge in wet weather. But most old soldiers have a few aches and pains, don’t they?”

  “Well then, you know the way their minds work in the army, when you’re hurt but they still want to keep you on.”

  “Did they offer you some sort of desk job?”

  “They offered, but they could see I’m not interested in pushing a stylus around. Horses are what I like.”

  “So then—let me guess—they suggested you could move into the transport section. Supplies, was it?”

  Victor smiled without humour. “Transport Officer, they called it, which sounds grand enough, but in plain Latin it’s just playing nursemaid to a load of brainless mules and even more brainless drivers. Bringing supplies up from base to the battle area, riding up and down, up and down, safe behind the lines while other men do the fighting, and getting shouted at by the quartermasters because you’ve brought everything except what they want! I couldn’t have stood that, and to be fair, they didn’t push it.”