Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  I told Quintus how Clarilla had asked for our help in preventing the proposed marriage with Vividus.

  He wasn’t surprised. “Clarus is keen on the marriage, she’s right there. He wants our help to convince Clarilla it would be a good match for her. So he’s hoping we’ll find that the conflict near the coast isn’t any of Magnus’ doing, but is being stirred up by Bodvocus and his people.”

  “Bodvocus,” I corrected, and there was a short digression while I passed on Clarilla’s warning on how particular the old chief was about his name.

  “Gods, I’ll try and remember,” he grumbled. “But going back to this marriage, Clarus did say he wouldn’t force Clarilla into an alliance she really objected to.”

  “How very considerate of him.”

  “No, I’m sure he means it. He’s very fond of her, and I did point out how much he’d miss her if she no longer lived at the villa.”

  “Well done. But she’s given me another assignment. She wants me to visit Bodvocus’ daughter Elli.” I told her the gist of it, including the part about Clarus forbidding her to interfere.

  Quintus was delighted. “It couldn’t be better. It fits in beautifully with my plans.”

  “Really? How? I thought you were concentrating on Magnus and his family.”

  “I am. I must check them out, I hope by staying with them for at least a day or two. I’ll give the impression I’m on their side, of course, and hope to win their confidence and find out their secrets, if any. But I also need to discover what Bodvocus is up to, and I was wondering how to manage that, if I’m apparently in cahoots with Magnus. I couldn’t think of any convincing reason for visiting Bodvocus without making him suspicious. Lucius can visit him, in fact he probably has already, as part of his search for information about the Gauls, but even he can’t make social calls. But you can, you have the perfect pretext. You’ll call on Bodvocus socially, and then visit his daughter, bringing her a letter from her beloved aunt Clarilla. With any luck you’ll be able to go there more than once, because Elli will want to write a reply. You’ll be staying with Albia, who hasn’t taken sides in the dispute, even though she’s been a victim. They’ll never suspect.”

  “Yes, it should work nicely. While you get to know Magnus and his family, I’ll be rubbing shoulders with Chief Bodvocus and Coriu, as well as Elli. And we can meet at Albia’s from time to time to compare notes.”

  “Or even if we can’t meet, we’ll be close enough to keep in touch easily. Titch can act as messenger, if we need one.”

  I smiled at him. “You did well there, Quintus. Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed. I’ve always thought that boy would make a fine investigator, and so he will, as long as I can get him to obey orders once in a while. He’s too intelligent for the army.”

  “Most men are,” came a voice close by, and we spun round as a slightly-built dark man emerged from the trees behind us. “Greetings, Quintus Antonius, and greetings, Aurelia.”

  “Hawk!” I exclaimed, “you made me jump out of my skin. You might whistle a tune or snap a few twigs, to let us know when you’re about.”

  “That would spoil the surprise.” Hawk is my favourite native huntsman, a good friend and the most accomplished tracker I’ve ever seen. His clothes always blend into the colours of the forest, whatever the season, so today he was wearing a homespun cloak of leafy green. He had his hunting-bow over his shoulder, and his big wolflike hound at his heels. “I came to look for you, Aurelia. I’m glad Antonius is here too.”

  “I haven’t seen you for a few days,” I answered. “Mind you, you’ve probably been here all the time, just keeping out of sight.”

  “That would be telling.” He sat down beside us on the log. “As a matter of fact I’ve been away visiting a very old friend. And I heard some odd news that I thought would interest you.” As usual he spoke in British, while I spoke in Latin. We always conversed like that, even though we understood each other’s languages well enough. I daresay it sounded odd to some people, but not to Quintus, who was used to it.

  “Your news is always interesting,” he said. “Tell us more.”

  “Aurelia, was your father called Lucius Aurelius Marcellus, like your brother?”

  “He was. Why?”

  “One more question first. Is it true Lucius is hunting high and low for Caratacus’ gold?”

  “No, he’s looking for a missing Government cargo which the Gauls have stolen. But it isn’t Caratacus’ treasure hoard.”

  Quintus laughed. “It’s gold though, Hawk. And he’s offering a generous reward, so if you’ve found it yourself…?”

  “Ah, now I begin to see. There are two missing hoards of gold, one stolen from a boat, and the other the hoard Caratacus is supposed to have buried.”

  “So it seems,” Quintus answered guardedly. “What have you heard?”

  “There’s a very old man, a friend of mine called Nertacos, who lives over towards the coast. He’s very lame and almost blind, so he hardly leaves his house these days. I’m fond of him, and I look in now and then for a beaker of beer and a chat about old times. He was a famous hunter and tracker when he was young, one of the best. I was with him the other day when Lucius’ name came up in conversation, something about his men camping on the Headland. Nertacos said he used to know another Lucius Aurelius Marcellus who was in the army here thirty years ago. Could that be your father, Aurelia?”

  I felt my heartbeat quicken. “It could, in fact it almost certainly was. Father served in Britannia in Nero Caesar’s time.”

  Hawk nodded. “Nertacos knew him then. And he says Aurelius senior found Caratacus’ gold, and Nertacos helped him hide it.”

  “Gods, Hawk, I thought that story was just a pleasant family myth. Now I’m starting to believe it.”

  “It’s true then?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did. We’ve heard that it may be possible our father found some gold coin and buried it, meaning to come back for it, but he never did. He didn’t tell any of us about it, except one—er—distant relative.”

  “But he came back to Brigantia to set up the mansio. Didn’t he go and look for it then?”

  “We don’t know if he did or didn’t. We assume if he’d found it, we’d have heard. Tell us more about this Nertacos.”

  “He was employed by the Roman army as a local guide and tracker, and your father enjoyed hunting, so the two of them became friends. Good friends, when Aurelius saved Nertacos from being killed by a wild boar. Then Aurelius found a basket of gold in a wood while he was hunting on his own, and told Nertacos about it. He gave him half, and asked him to bury the other half for him at a certain spot they both knew, where they were sure it would be safe. They both swore an oath to keep it secret till Aurelius came back for it.”

  “Where?” Quintus and I asked together.

  “Ah, that’s the question! He wouldn’t tell the exact place, he claimed he couldn’t remember, but I don’t believe that. His body is failing him, but not his mind. All he’d say was that the gold is in a basket, and the basket is in a pit in the noontide shade of a tall tree. From the top of the tree you can see the sea.”

  “In the noontide shade presumably means north,” I said. “He didn’t say what kind of tree?”

  “No. Just that it was a big one.”

  “If Nertacos had a share of the gold when he was young, what did he do with it?” Quintus asked. “If a fairly humble hunter suddenly came into money, surely it would be noticed?”

  “I asked him that. He said he went off travelling round the Empire for a couple of years, seeing the world and spending money on wine and women and adventures. Then he came back to his home near the coast here, met a girl, and settled down again as a hunter. Of course that could just be another of his tales, but knowing him, I can believe he’d do that when he was young and free.”

  “Then tell me honestly, Hawk,” I asked, “can we believe Nertacos’ story? Do you believe it?” />
  “I think so. Though of course his family don’t. They’ve always regarded him as a muddled old man who rambles on about days gone by.”

  “When Aurelius never came back,” Quintus wondered, “why wasn’t Nertacos tempted to dig up the rest of the treasure for himself?”

  “Perhaps he was tempted. But he wouldn’t break a promise to a friend who’d saved his life.”

  “What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why in the gods’ name didn’t Father simply take his share of the gold with him? Why bury it, especially if that meant entrusting the job to someone else?”

  “It was quite a large amount, apparently, and your father thought it would be impossible to keep it secret, or safe. His cohort was on the march most of the time, living in temporary camps, moving on every day or two. There was nowhere he could safely hide such a quantity of coin, and he was afraid it would be stolen. He said there was a known thief in his unit, or I suppose a strongly suspected one, who would have made off with it.”

  “Sounds like Magnus Midas,” I joked, remembering Titch’s story.

  “That’s extraordinary!” Hawk exclaimed. “That was the name Nertacos remembered. So you know this story after all?”

  ”Not all of it, but it ties in with something else I’ve heard about those old days. Hawk, could we meet Nertacos ourselves? If he does know the hiding-place, he might be prepared to reveal it to Aurelius’ children. Perhaps if we bring Lucius too…”

  “Why, yes, he’d love to see you. You’re his friend’s children, and what’s more, you’re a fresh audience for his tales. He lives with his daughter, their hut’s not hard to find.” Hawk gave us directions, but added, “The gods know whether he’ll tell you where the gold is. But mention my name, and good luck.” He smiled. “I’ll expect at least a gold piece as a reward, you know, if he tells you.”

  “Of course,” I agreed. “We won’t forget.”

  He became serious again. “I’m only teasing. I’m not sure I’d want it, if I’m honest. Gold is deadly stuff, it brings out the worst in people.”

  “You’re telling us to watch our backs?” Quintus asked, serious also.

  “I am. I wish you good hunting, but take care, both of you. And bring me news of Nertacos when you come back.” He stepped into the trees, and vanished from view.

  Quintus and I sat for a while, trying to digest this astonishing information, and decide what we should do about it. I don’t know how long we sat there, but eventually we heard a voice calling our names, and walked back through the trees towards the paddocks. Titch was standing by the fence, beckoning us to hurry.

  “Brutus and his men are here, sir. They’re on the forecourt now.”

  “What do you want them to do—go to Albia’s today?” Quintus asked me.

  “I think so, yes. Albia may as well have some extra protection straight away. We three can leave in the morning, can’t we?”

  We hurried to the forecourt to greet them. Brutus was as solidly reassuring as ever. I told him how glad I was that he’d be helping us, and introduced him to Quintus and Titch. “Can you leave for Albia’s farm today, Brutus? You might not get all the way, but…”

  “Maybe not immediately, but certainly in about an hour, when I’ve made sure these lads are reasonably well armed and prepared. Could we borrow a couple of pack mules, please, for equipment?”

  “By all means. Take a carriage if you’d rather, or a wagon.”

  “No, I want to travel light. Mules will be fine. Are you coming up to your sister’s place too?”

  “For a few days, yes, just to make sure everything’s in order. But Quintus and I will stay here tonight, and leave tomorrow. I only got back from there yesterday, and I need a little time here to make arrangements before I go away again. You know Albia, of course, but I don’t think you’ve met her husband Candidus. Or the children, come to that.”

  “I didn’t realise you knew Albia,” Quintus put in. “That’s good.”

  “I’ve known both the ladies for many years,” Brutus smiled. “Well they were girls when I first met them. I served under their father, you see, and we left the army at more or less the same time. He invited me to stay once at their house at Pompeii. ‘Course, we were all a lot younger then. We had good times though, didn’t we?”

  “We did. Quintus’ home was in Pompeii too. Until…you know.”

  We were all silent a few heartbeats. The others were perhaps thinking of Pompeii. I was reflecting that Brutus had known father, and that might mean he knew…well, there was only one way to find out.

  “Brutus, when you knew Father…”I stopped, suddenly realising as I formed the next few words how odd they were going to sound. “That is…we’ve had a bit of a surprise in the family lately. We’ve heard that Father had a son born here in Britannia, a half-brother to me and Albia and Lucius, that none of us knew anything about. It’s hard to believe a thing like that after all this time, and we can’t help doubting the truth of it. I don’t suppose Father ever mentioned…”

  I paused, because Brutus had lost his smile and was staring at me as if I’d just thrown a pail of cold water over him. “Well…that is…yes, he did, as it happens. But it’s difficult, because I took an oath not to say anything to a living person until your father had told all of you about it.”

  “But he never did, Brutus. And he never will now.”

  “What have you heard about this brother?” Brutus asked.

  “Father knew a native girl called Huctia in Glevum when his legion was based down there. They saw a lot of each other, but then Father’s cohort was moved to Lindum, and he lost touch with the girl. She had his baby but he never knew about it, until he found out by pure chance years later. By that time the son was a grown lad called Rollus, and father wrote to Huctia saying he planned to bring them both up to Brigantia, because he was just setting up the mansio at Oak Bridges. He died soon after. So he never brought them up north, and he never mentioned anything about Huctia and Rollus to us.”

  Brutus scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It can’t hurt to tell you now what I know, as you’ve found out so much already. When we were together in Pompeii, Aurelius told me about Huctia, and that he had a son born to her over here. He said more than once that he planned to settle in this province to be near the boy. ‘Course, I’ve never met him. Have you?”

  “Lucius has. Albia and I have only seen his dead face.”

  “He’s dead? That’s sad. Your dad was proud of you three children of his marriages, and of the boy Rollus too. He’d have liked you all to meet. I remember he joked about Rollus being the only one of his children who looked like him.”

  “But that’s not right,” I said. “He didn’t…”

  “He resembled Aurelia’s father?” Quintus interrupted sharply, startling me because I’d forgotten he was there. “What did Aurelius senior look like? I never met him, you see.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. Well, he had brown hair and grey eyes, a high forehead, and of course a great big nose, and a heavy jaw. And Rollus took after him. A chip off the old marble.”

  “That sounds like Father,” I agreed.

  “But not the man in the box,” Quintus said.

  I felt excitement rising inside me. “Brutus, you’re sure about the description? After all it’s a long time ago.”

  “’Course I’m sure. Why?”

  “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” But it did matter, because Brutus’ description in no way matched the man who’d claimed to be our brother, with his fair hair and eyebrows, thin nose, and blue eyes. So he wasn’t our brother after all! He was a traitor, but not an Aurelius traitor.

  Suddenly I realised what a burden I’d felt our half-brother’s treachery to be, even though Quintus had reassured me that Lucius was safe from suspicion. And the burden had just fallen off my back. My heart was lighter than it had been for days.

  Chapter XVI

  We left at the first cock-crow, before it wa
s fully light. There were four of us: Quintus, Titch and I, and Taurus, who insisted on coming too. And if you think a slave can’t insist on anything, you’ve never owned a servant like Taurus, who’s not only completely loyal, but has been with us so long he’s more or less family. I tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant. “I can look after the children while everyone is busy. They know me, they won’t be so frightened with me there. You and Master Quintus and Master Candidus probably can’t be at the farm all the time. I can. Please don’t say no.”

  So I said yes, and was glad of his presence as we rode up the Long Hill and along the highway.

  Nothing of note happened till we got to Belinus’ farm turning. Here Quintus called a short halt, and said he’d like to see the farm for himself, so he and I rode slowly down the rutted track towards the farmhouse. Taurus and Titch followed along out of curiosity, or perhaps to show that if we didn’t need a rest, then neither did they.

  The place looked more forlorn than ever now it was empty, with not even a few poor fowls scratching about among the weeds. Taurus dismounted and went towards the well, but I stopped him, remembering that Esico said it had been poisoned. When we looked over its side an indescribably unpleasant smell drifted up to us.

  “Listen! I can hear someone round the back.” Titch whispered suddenly. He jumped from his horse and began to run towards the rear of the house, pulling out his knife. Quintus and I did the same, moving fast but quietly, and when we reached the open ground behind the building a very odd sight confronted us.

  In a field some distance away four men were digging a deep trench in the ground, about five paces long, under a group of tall trees. They were singing as they dug, and facing away from us, so we couldn’t identify them, but at least we had time to watch them before they noticed us. They were dressed in the usual serviceable scruffy clothes that any peasant, or for that matter any sailor, might wear.

  One of them must have heard us or sensed our presence, because he looked round, dropped his spade, and called out, “Visitors, boys! Let’s go!” The others dropped their spades too, and they bolted away across the field. We couldn’t catch them, they had too big a start.