Buried Too Deep

by Jane Finnis

  “Excellent,” Quintus said. “Good work. How does he seem now? And where has he been all this time?”

  Lucius grinned. “He’s his usual charming self. He says he’s been riding round the farm since first light. He’s obsessed with the idea that the Gauls are going to raid here soon, he kept on about it all the way back. And he started telling off the chief guard as soon as he got in through the gate, saying there should have been more men out on patrol during the night. The guard said he was out all night himself, and saw nothing at all to indicate trouble. I broke the argument up, but it was interesting to hear that Rinacus wasn’t in the Fort last night.”

  “Yes, I agree. Where’s Ferox now?”

  “He’s in his office, which is downstairs in one of the out-buildings near the main gate. I left a guard on his door so he’ll have to stay put. It seemed better to put him there than keep him standing in the open, and I assume you don’t want him to talk to the others till you’ve questioned him. He’s extremely annoyed and keeps demanding to see Magnus or Vividus.”

  “Magnus?” I said. “You mean he doesn’t know Magnus is dead?”

  “He doesn’t seem to, though he could just be play-acting. Are you going to see him now, Quintus?”

  “I most certainly am. You two come as well.”

  So we trooped out of the house and across the big open space in front of it. Ferox’s office was a large room with big windows which were open to give a good view of the entrance gate and also the main door to the house. Its interior looked like any estate manager’s lair, untidy and littered with note-tablets, scrolls, styluses, and ink-pots, not to mention used wine-beakers, some with wine still in them.

  Ferox leapt from his chair as we entered, and confronted Quintus. “Are you responsible for my being treated like this, Antonius?”

  “I’m afraid I am.”

  “Well it’s disgraceful. I demand you release me at once and let me talk to my uncle or my brother. You’ve no business to hold me a prisoner here as if I’m some sort of criminal.”

  “I’m sorry, Ferox. I’m afraid it’s necessary. I need to ask you some questions. What time did you leave the Fort this morning?”

  “Before dawn. What about it?”

  “Just answer my questions please, if you would. You were up early, it seems. Are you usually such an early riser?”

  He looked uneasy. “Sometimes. Why?”

  “It helps us to get a picture of life here at the Fort, if we know what a normal routine day is like. Is there a special reason why you sometimes get up early, or is it just as the mood takes you?”

  “If you must know, I’m a poor sleeper, and I sometimes suffer from bad dreams. Really unpleasant ones, I mean, and if I’ve woken up after one of them, I’m not likely to go back to sleep that night. So however early it is, I get myself up and make use of the time to do some work.”

  “Work? In the middle of the night?” I asked.

  He glanced round his cluttered office. “There’s always plenty of paperwork to be done, till it gets light enough to ride out onto the farm. I like to patrol our land as often as I can myself. That way I can keep an eye open for trouble, and also supervise what my workers are up to.”

  Quintus asked, “Did you see your uncle this morning before you left?”

  “I didn’t. I told you, I left before dawn, which is when he gets up and takes his bath. Believe me, when I do see him and tell him how I’ve been treated, he’ll throw you all off our property. And I intend to see him now. Out of my way.” He took a couple of paces across the room.

  Lucius went to stand with his back against the door, while Quintus took a step forward and faced Ferox squarely. He said softly, “I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you. Your uncle is dead.”

  “Dead?”

  I was watching him closely, and I could swear his surprise and horror were completely genuine. If he was acting, he was doing it supremely well.

  Quintus went on, and he too was observing Ferox carefully. “He died this morning at dawn. To be precise, he was murdered this morning at dawn.”

  Ferox said nothing for a few heartbeats, then he exclaimed, “Magnus dead? I can’t believe it!”

  “I’m afraid it’s true,” Quintus said.

  “But…how will we manage without him? He’s been like a father to me, to all of us boys after our mother died. Gods, it’s my fault. All my fault!”

  “Your fault? You’re admitting you killed him?” Quintus asked.

  “Of course I didn’t. But I knew the Gauls would be attacking us about now, I just knew it! And I thought we were well prepared, so my best way of protecting us all was to spend as much time as possible on patrol, out on the estate. I should have stayed at the Fort, but I never thought they’d try to murder anyone inside the walls here.” He looked stricken, deathly pale and staring straight ahead at nothing.

  “You think the sea-raiders killed him?” Quintus asked.

  “Who else? Under orders from Bodvocus, no doubt. They’ve been harassing all the settlers in this district. We’re the only ones they haven’t dared touch so far, because we’ve plenty of men and a good solid rampart around us. But I knew it was only a matter of time, we all did. Personally I thought they’d try something on Beltane, that was why Bodvocus was so keen to lure us away from here to attend his feast.”

  “What if I told you,” Quintus said, “that your uncle couldn’t have been killed by an outsider, whether one of the Gauls or one of the Parisi?”

  “Couldn’t? Why not?”

  “Because he was killed in a place where no outsider could have penetrated, in the caldarium of your bath suite. The murderer must have been someone from this household, almost certainly someone close to Magnus, whom he knew and trusted. There was no sign of a struggle in the hot room. Whoever was there with him was able to come up close to him and stab him, without Magnus suspecting his intention.”

  “One of our own people?” He shook his head. “Not very likely. What’s your evidence?”

  “Niobe overheard a quarrel in the bath-house only a short while before she found your uncle there. He wasn’t dead when she discovered…”

  Ferox barked, “Niobe found him?”

  “Yes,” I said. “She says she went to join Magnus in the bath-house, heard an argument in progress and went away again. When she came back, Magnus was almost dead, and she heard his last words.”

  “Heard them? Or made them up?”

  “You don’t like Niobe?” I asked.

  “Oh, I like her well enough. She’s beautiful, and she knows how to make a man feel like a man. And she’s been kind to me sometimes…But if she found my uncle, isn’t it likely she killed him, and made up a story to cover herself? What does she claim my uncle said to her?”

  “‘He’s finished me, Niobe. After all I’ve done for those boys, they betray me. Even Aquilo…too late now.’”

  Ferox’ expression was of complete astonishment. “Aquilo? Aquilo couldn’t hurt a fly. He certainly couldn’t kill a man, even in a quarrel. And what would he be quarrelling about anyway?”

  “Perhaps you can tell us,” Quintus invited. “We’ve heard already that there were several disagreements among the family yesterday.”

  “Oh yes, we were arguing all day long. About whether any of us should go to the Beltane feast. Bodvocus sent Uncle Magnus a message suggesting they should meet and publicly declare they wanted to live at peace and join forces against the Gauls. I thought it was a trap, and thought we should refuse to have anything to do with it. Vividus wanted Magnus to go and promise peace, but he said we should be prepared to go on defending ourselves because he was sure Bodvocus’ men wouldn’t keep to their side of it. Aquilo wanted peace at any cost, and agreed that my uncle should go and make an agreement, one that we’d all have to stick to. So if Aquilo quarrelled with my uncle, it can’t have been about that. And as I’ve already said, Aquilo hasn’t got it in him to be a killer…”

 
; “We know it wasn’t Aquilo who killed your uncle,” I interrupted him. “He stayed at my sister’s house last night. I was there, and I can vouch for that.”

  “Then who…?” He stopped, realising the answer. “You think I killed my uncle?”

  We said nothing.

  “You must be mad! You’re not seriously accusing me of murdering my uncle?”

  “We haven’t got as far as accusing anyone yet,” Quintus answered. “What we’re doing is checking the movements of anyone who could possibly have killed him. That’s anyone who was known to your uncle and familiar with the routine of the household.”

  “And,” I added, “anyone who wouldn’t have been afraid to visit Magnus while he was at his bath, even though, as we understand it, he disliked interruptions when he was bathing alone or with Niobe.”

  “That’s what Niobe said, I take it,” he exclaimed scornfully. “She’s always made the most of her position with Uncle Magnus, pretending he’d prefer to be with her rather than discussing family matters. The truth is, Vividus and I quite often took the chance of a chat with the old boy first thing in the morning, before we all got too busy with our day’s work.”

  “So if you weren’t with your uncle in the baths this morning,” I said, “Vividus could have been there?”

  “He could, I suppose. But—no, it’s ridiculous to suggest he’d kill Uncle Magnus. None of us would. As I said to start with, this is an outsider’s work. One of the Long-hair raiders, or one of Bodvocus’ young men. That’s my view, and I suggest you stop wasting your time on fanciful theories based on tales made up by a concubine, and start hunting for the real killer.”

  And we couldn’t get any more out of him. I didn’t like the man any more than I had before, but his story seemed convincing, as did his shock at the news of his uncle’s murder. We’d no choice but to accept his account of events.

  Just as we were leaving I asked him casually, “By the way, Ferox, we’ve been picking up rumours that there’s some kind of secret way in and out of the Fort that the men use at night. One of the gates, which is supposed to be kept locked, but there are spare keys in circulation…”

  He grunted. “If you mean the so-called Achilles gate, it’s true. The lads use it sometimes when they want to slip out and see girls. They think I don’t know, but I’m prepared to let it go as long as they don’t start bringing girls in here, or any other strangers, and they aren’t such fools as to try that.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  He scratched his head. “Vividus, probably, he’s pretty observant. Magnus didn’t know, he’d have been upset by something so undisciplined.”

  “Thanks, Ferox,” Quintus said. “We’ll leave you free to get on with your work. Spring’s a busy time for farmers.”

  Ferox growled something we couldn’t hear, but its meaning was clear enough: he felt he was busy enough without having to answer our unnecessary and foolish questions.

  Chapter XXIII

  “The more we learn, the less we know,” Quintus remarked irritably, leaning back in his chair. We were in his office again, having sent a servant to bring us some refreshment. The sky had clouded over so we had no sunlight to show us what hour it was, but our stomachs told us it was more than time for our midday meal. Now we were eating stale bread and ancient cheese, washed down with sour wine.

  “Better than nothing, though not by much.” I cut away a mouldy crust from the bread, and took an unenthusiastic bite. “Jupiter’s balls, if this is the usual standard of food at the Fort, I’m surprised there aren’t more murders. But there is one good result already. The report we take back to Clarus and Clarilla will convince them both that the Ostorii aren’t the sort of family that Clarilla should be marrying into.”

  “That’s true.” Quintus nibbled at the cheese. “This takes me back to my army days, except I think our rations were better. Perhaps we should be encouraging Clarilla to take over the housekeeping here and improve the cuisine. She could bring her wonderful chef.”

  “He’s Clarus’ chef, and whoever Clarilla marries, her brother won’t let her take him.” I washed down the bread with a swallow of vinegar pretending to be wine. “Clarilla was right to be worried about Elli, though, wasn’t she? We got her away from Bodvocus’ just in time.”

  There was a soft knock at the door and Quintus called “Come in.” Aquilo entered the room, looking calm but tired. I remembered he hadn’t had much sleep the previous night, and offered him the stool, and a beaker of wine.

  “Thanks, I’ll have some wine. But…where on earth did you find that revolting-looking food?”

  “We asked one of the slaves for refreshments,” Quintus said.

  “And they gave you yesterday’s leavings? That’s outrageous! Wait, I’ll get you something better.”

  He went out again despite our protests, which in truth weren’t very loud, and soon returned followed by the same slave who’d served us before, carrying a tray with fresh bread, cold mutton, and even some lettuce leaves, and a flask of white wine.

  “Get this muck out of here,” Aquilo told the man, “and if I catch any of you treating our guests like this again, you’ll all be eating mouldy bread and water for a month. Understand?”

  The slave nodded, picked up the rejected tray, and left. If he’d had a tail, it would have been between his legs.

  “I’m sorry,” Aquilo said.

  “Don’t worry. This is a feast.” I cut up the new bread and cheese and we ate it gratefully.

  “How are your investigations going?” he asked. “Do you know who killed my uncle?”

  “Not yet, but we’re close,” Quintus answered, and I nodded agreement. A lie like that needed all the support it could get. “At least we’re certain it wasn’t you. But there’s a strong possibility it may be someone within your family.”

  “So I gather. Ferox has been bending my ear about how you accused him. But I don’t see it being old Ferox, or Vividus for that matter. We all had our differences with my uncle from time to time, but we all owed him a great deal, and we’ve never forgotten it. He took us all into his house and brought us up when our parents died. They both contracted some dreadful fever, and died within days of each other. Our nurse got us away from the house and brought us to Magnus, and he didn’t hesitate to make us welcome.”

  “Do you think he’d have given consent eventually for you to marry Elli?” I’ll be honest: this was nothing at all to do with our enquiries, but a girl can’t help being curious.

  He ran his hands through his untidy mop of hair. “I don’t know, and now I never will. Perhaps.” He sighed. “My brothers aren’t happy about it. I’ve just had yet another row with Vividus, this time about my future.”

  “You told them about your baby?” I asked.

  “Not yet. That has to stay secret till after Beltane. I daren’t risk word getting back to Bodvocus about it. No, I just told them that I’m in love with Elli, and intend to live with her, whether we’re legally married or not. So if they feel that would bring disgrace on the name of Ostorius, that’s just too bad. But I’m trying to make Vividus see that the best thing is for him to give his formal consent as head of the family, it’ll cause much less of a scandal. We’ll be married, and I’ll have my share of the inheritance, and take Elli to live somewhere I feel more at home. Londinium perhaps, or even another province, Italia or Greece.”

  “What did Vividus say to that?”

  “He blustered and ranted, but he didn’t say an outright no. He’ll agree in the end, especially after tomorrow when we’ve made formal peace between ourselves and Bodvocus. Because surely once we’ve made peace, Bodvocus will give his consent, and Vividus won’t want to appear less generous than a native.”

  Neither of us commented on this hopeful prophecy, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m going to the feast to represent the family, did you know that? So I’ll be the man making the pledge of peace with the Chief. Neither of the others want to go
, but they’ve agreed that I’ll attend, and we all hope that once Bodvocus and I have shown everyone publicly that we’re no longer enemies, then these destructive quarrels will stop, and we can all put our minds to getting rid of the Gauls. You’ll be coming to the feast too, won’t you?”

  “We plan to, if we’re sufficiently far on with our work,” Quintus said.

  “Then I hope to see you there.” He stood up. “I’m off back to Albia’s now, to be with Elli and my son. I’ll see to it that Elli gets to her father’s house in plenty of time for the festivities tomorrow. But she won’t be needed to perform the ceremony where the boat is launched on the tide. Coriu’s daughter is doing it in her place. You know, I’ve dreamed of being able to bring peace back to this district. Tomorrow we’ll make a start.”

  Once again I threw in a final irrelevant-seeming enquiry. “Going back to your uncle’s death, Aquilo. Did you know there’s a secret way in and out of the Fort that some of the men use at night, after the main gates are locked?”

  “The small back gate in the corner? Yes, I did, in fact I’m the one that named it after Achilles. It’s harmless enough, some of the wilder lads sneak out that way on summer nights and go courting. I went that way myself a few times last year, when I visited Elli.”

  “You don’t think an outsider could have used it to enter the Fort, and attack your uncle?” Quintus asked.

  “Gods, no. Getting through the wall is one thing, but moving about among the buildings, especially near the baths…no, that has to be someone familiar, someone in the household or close to it.”

  “It’s the same story from everyone,” I remarked to Quintus after Aquilo had gone. “We seem to be going round in circles.”

  Quintus stood up and stretched. “Gods, I feel like a lion in a cage. Let’s go outside for a walk, and breathe some fresh air.”

  We strolled towards the back of the Fort, and out of the main rear gate, which stood wide open. Beyond the walls was a cleared strip of ground, and then fields stretching away to the sea. In the nearest one I spotted the four black horses Magnus had bought from me, and I walked over to the fence. They came to me for a bit of attention, and I talked to them and rubbed their glossy necks.