But need they die at all ? t he Remi thought as he loitered by a tree , close to the beach , and listened to the laughter of the merchants and the keening of their cargo in the wagons. Romans were usually willing to listen to reason, and merchants doubly so, especially if money was involved , and Galronus had enough money on his horse to buy a full wagon from that caravan, by his reckoning . The question was: did these merchants have a hand in Fronto’s downfall and therefore everything to lose by his freedom, or were they simply merchants who would always consider the best business opportunity?
He settled his swords in place, a gladius at each side, though he had left his Gallic sword on the horse. It was not easy riding with it on his back, as he’d quickly found out. Stepping out from behind the tree, he led his horse by the reins with his other hand resting on a sword pommel. He might be tr ying to do this peaceably, but he had to be prepared for trouble. He’d not crossed half the tree-spotted sward before a shout of warning went up from a guard and three men converged on him.
‘I wish to speak to your master,’ he said evenly, looking past them at the men by the fire. They were swarthy men, he noticed, not locals. Probably from Africa across the water. One of them n odded at the guard and rose. The three ex-soldiers escorted Galronus to the camp, and moments later he was face to face with the lead slaver , their features lit orange by the firelight.
‘I believe you have a slave that belongs to someone else, and I wish to purchase them .’
The slaver frowned. ‘This is not a market. Find us at Dertosa or Saguntum and we’ll happily sell to you at market. This is just the overnight camp of a caravan, and we do not trade now .’
‘Come now,’ Galronus smiled, ‘surely business is business and a price could be agreed? ’
‘What do you want with a slave in the night anyway ?’ asked a second , younger man coming to stand next to the merchant. ‘This is all very suspicious.’
‘I want a particular slave, as I said, ’ Galronus replied , his eyes flicking to the wagons. He’d not yet spotted Fronto in the crowded cages , but was sure he was there , nonetheless .
‘I don’t like this, uncle,’ the second man said, but the merchant waved him into silence. ‘Specific needs can be expensive.’
‘I have money. An d no slave is too expensive these days, since Caesar flooded the markets with Gauls.’
The merchant laughed. ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard, stranger, and that may be true in Rome or Gaul, but precious few of the proconsul’s captives come to Hispania. There’s no glut here, and prices are good as ever. This slave… she’s a looker?’
‘She’s a he ,’ Galronus said flatly.
‘A gladiator? I have a few. One musician, two who can read and scribe and know their histories, if you’re after a tutor.’
‘How much are your gladiators?’ Galronus probed.
‘Varies,’ shrugged the merchant.
‘Four thousand for our Thracian retiarius,’ blurted the younger one. ‘And he’s a champion.’
The merchant flashed his nephew an irritated look. ‘Varies,’ he repeated.
‘Let me look for the one I’m after, and we’ll talk money.’
The merchant paused for a moment, then nodded. The small party wandered across to the wagons, where desperate, thin, grubby arms reached between the bars imploringly. Galronus wandered along the sides, peering in. It was hard to see in the gloom . The nephew obligingly lifted a torch to illuminate the stock, and the party moved to the second wagon. They were about to pass to the third when Galronus felt his heart lurch. There was a patch of blood next to the bars of the wagon, a few drips running down the side to the wheel. He stopped and peered carefully inside. Fronto was lying on the wagon floor, dressed only in an unbelted tunic of grey that looked to be made from a sack. He was wrapped with bandages, but already the blood blossomed on the dirty wrappings.
‘That one. He’s wounded.’
The merchant shrugged. ‘My medicus, who used to be a Roman capsarius, tells me he’s in no danger. Unless he succumbs to the wound rot, his wound will have crusted over and be healing by the time we get to Carthago Nova.’ He frowned. ‘ This one is yours?’
Galronus nodded, wondering if his gambit would work. How aware were these people of who m they were carrying? ‘He was my boss’ personal slave, but he ran away. The boss wants him back badly. There are fugitivarii looking for him. But he’s not worth what he was. Not in this state.’
The merchant’s eyes narrowed. ‘ He’s fine. A flesh wound is all.’
‘He’s wounded. He wasn’t when he left. My boss’ property has been damaged. You wouldn’t want a legal row over it, would you? I’m willing to take him off your hands for five hundred, though, just so I can have the kudos of being the one to bring him back.’
‘Five hundred?’ snorted the nephew, earning another acidic look from his uncle.
‘A thousand,’ the merchant said. ‘And that’s cost price. I bought him for a thousand, and he’s had medical care and one meal since then, so even that puts me out of pocket.’
Galronus felt relief flood through him. It was better than he’d hoped for. ‘I’m in a generous mood,’ the Remi said. ‘It’ll be good for my career. I’ll give you eleven hund red to cover all your costs, the n we don’t have to bother the courts or the fugitivarii.’
The merchant peered into his eyes for a moment, as if trying to peel away layers of deception, then finally shrugged and nodded. ‘I have documents of purchase. Danel… go fetch the records for this one , and my seal.’
* * *
Fronto staggered for a moment and righted himself only with difficulty, refusing the help of the guards and only managing as Galronus put out a hand.
‘I’ll… I will… when you find out who I am…’
‘I’ve told him how angry your master is,’ Galronus said sharply, glaring at Fronto and trying to carry the weight of the situation in his gaze. If the traders suspected for a moment that they were holding someone as important as Fronto, they would be left with little choice. If they wanted to avoid unpleasant questions, neither Fronto nor Galronus could ever afford to be found alive . Fronto seemed to catch his meaning after several waggles of Remi eyebrows, and sagged.
‘I can’t ride.’
‘You can be draped over a horse’s rump like the runaway you are,’ Galronus grunted, potentially overdoing it, ‘and be sure not to fall off. You’ve one wound already. A second would just pass unnoticed.’
The slaver’s nephew nodded approvingly, and Galronus none - too - gently slung Fronto over the back of his horse, turning his face from the stink. Fronto had been forced to use the cart latrine twice and there had been no water, no spongia and no vinegar to cleanse.
‘Urk,’ grunted Fronto in pain.
‘Be quiet and be damned grateful it was me who found you and not the fugitivarii. They would scourge and brand you straight away.’
Ignoring Fronto’s whimpers, he threw a long-suffering look at the slavers. ‘I am profoundly grateful. May my gods and yours smile on your endeavours for the rest of your journey.’
The slaver bowed and he and his nephew retreated to the fire while the guards watched intently until the two men on the horse had vanished into Oleastrum and out of sight. As soon as he was sure they were out of view of the camp , Galronus heaved a sigh of relief and glanced round at Fronto. ‘I’m stopping here. Partially to check your wound and change your dressing and partially beca use you smell like a terminally- ill sphincter and I’m not relishing riding the horse in front of you. You can dip in the sea and wash yourself down. The salt will do the wound good. ’
As he helped Fronto down off the horse, tethered the beast and aided his friend across the soft sand of the beach toward the wine-dark slapping waves, Fronto made an odd noise. Galronus turned to remove the bandage and was surprise to see tears running through the grime down Fronto’s face. He stopped, stunned. In all the years he’d fought alongside the legate, with everything they’d be
en through, he’d never seen Fronto cry. Not like this. When the children were born, yes. Tears of relief or exhaustion, yes. But this was different.
‘You don’t know,’ Fronto said quietly. ‘It’s… it was… there’s no describing it.’
‘Nasty, I’m sure.’
‘No,’ Fronto said quietly, turning a look of bleak horror on Galronus. ‘It’s the end of all humanity. Not because of them , though. I think, for slavers, they were probably quite humane. But still, when you’re stripped of everything and turned into cattle, it changes everything. And with it comes the realisation that it’s all over. Not only everything you had, but everything you dreamed of, or might ever have. It’s a total ruination of the soul. Because I knew I was done for. There was no way you’d find me, and I would end up in some mine in Africa or something like it . I had lost everything. The boys. Lucilia. You. Mother. Faleria. Everyone. It is a chilling, chilling thing, my friend. I just… I don’t understand how you found me. Verginius is too clever to have left a trail. ’
As Galronus reached the bandage’s end and revealed the wound, Fronto hissed, the wrapping pulling the glistening, puckered red flesh out from the damage. ‘Looks nasty,’ the Remi noted, ‘ but the slaver was right. A few weeks and this will be on the mend. A couple of months and you’ll be more or less your old self. ’ He pointed to the sea, dropping the filthy bandage on the sand. ‘Wash. It’ll hurt, but it’ll help too . As for Verginius,’ he added as Fronto winced and began to step slowly into the sweeping waves, ‘he can’t be as clever as you think. There was a trail.’
‘Tell me,’ said Fronto, as he began to wash and scrub, hissing with pain every time he bent or the water came near his midriff .
‘I talked to Parella. She wasn’t happy, but she pointed me to a bar where all the shitsters hang about.’
‘The Jug?’
‘The Jug. I found where you’d been beaten, then the room where you were stabbed. I found the lad who knew about it and poked him a bit ‘ til he told me how to get in touch with his Arenosio friend .’
‘Poked with a sword , I presume. Good. Little shit sold me out. Deserved it. But Verginius didn’t need his network now. He’d not have left a man out for you to find. That makes no sense.’
‘But he was there. I found the house where they’d been staying. Verginius and the others had gone, but he’d left one man.’
Fronto yelped suddenly and disappeared beneath the waves, scrabbling back up swiftly and whimpering in pain before Galronus could wade in after him. ‘The sea pulls hard on these beaches, and I’m short on strength right now. No , Galronus, none of it makes sense . Verginius is far too clever to leave a man… unless…’ Fronto fell silent and turned to his friend.
‘Unless?’ prompted the Remi.
‘Unless he meant for you to find me. He did . He wanted you to save me. The game isn’t over, it’s just moved on a stage. He wants me to live through what he lived through. He wants to make the revenge fit his suffering , like those Jews he was talking about . So now what? I can’ t imagine. He’s going to remove my Romanitas ? Make me like he was? Or make me suffer the ministrations of a vicious medic? I don’t know, but I know I have no intention of letting him hurt anyone any more. This has to end now. I have to find him, and…’
‘Kill him,’ finished Galronus.
‘Yes. No. Perhaps. I don’t know. There is still my old friend in there. He’s working through some warped vow he made when he was at his lowest ebb , but I really don’t think he wants to. He’s fighting himself far more than he’s fighting me . And for all the evils he’s heaping on me, it would appear he’s never yet put me truly in permanen t, lethal danger. If… if there’s no chance of saving him, then yes, he needs to be killed, else he’ll go after others. Caesar if no one else, and Caesar holds the future wellbeing of our family in his hands. I can’t allow that, even though I tend to agree with him in some ways. No. I don’t know what I’ll do until the decision has to be made. But I’m not dragging this out. As soon as we get back to Tarraco, we find him. Tonight if need be, in the morning if not.’
‘Two proble ms with that, Fronto. One: you can hardly bend, let alone help me take on Verginius and his remaining men. Hades, a bouncy horse ride could still kill you. Secondly: we have no new leads. I killed the warrior at the house, so there’s no one left to tell us where he’s gone.’
Fronto sloshed and staggered from the water, naked and soaked, his skin glistening as he came to a halt on the beach, curling his toes in the sand . Galronus looked him up and down. ‘You look like a you’ve been eaten and shat out by a whale, but at least you’re clean.’
Fronto smiled. ‘Bandage me up, man, then we head back to the city. Verginius will have left us a message. ’
‘The statues?’
‘The statues,’ Fronto smiled.
Chapter Fifteen
FRONTO u nfolded the vellum for the tenth time since they had left the city.
LAUTUMIA MEDELLAE
Galronus glanced across and tutted irritably and fiddled with his reins. ‘I don’t understand why. A quarry, of all things?’ He harrumphed at Fronto , who once more folded the scrap and tucked it back into his pouch, noting as he did so the fresh bloom of blood on his bandages, glistening black in the pre-dawn light.
‘And whatever you say, ’ the Remi went on, ‘ we should have stayed in Tarraco for a while and had your wound looked at by a professional. It might not be life-threatening in principle, but any wound can kill if it leaks enough blood. You should not be on a horse , either . It’s pumping blood out of you like a bellows. ’
‘Maybe you’re missing the joke, ’ Fronto said without a trace of humour. ‘Lautumia Med ellae means “ q uarry of h ealing ” . I wouldn’t put it past Verginius to have chosen it purely for that playful little name. But there are other reasons too, I’m sure . The quarry’s way out of town and only used sporadically when there’s a big building project, so for whole chunks of the year it lies empty and silent. It’s not one of the big pri vate affairs with permanent manpower, so t he governor drafts slaves in when he needs stone for something – otherwise they use the small er quarries closer to Tarraco – which means we’ll likely have the place to ourselves. It’ s on the road east and north, back toward Roman and Gallic lands and suspiciously not far from Longina’s villa . Per haps most important of all, Verginius and I both know t he place . During the short time we were both based here, while we were gathering the force s for our campaign with Caesar, we used it for exercise and training. We had the men – and ourselves, of course – running the circumference of the place, racing along the quarry bottom and even climbing the walls. Horribly dangerous, but kept everyone in shape. ’
‘Is that it?’ Galronus muttered, pointing ahead.
Fronto peered along the road and could see the opening to the place leading off to the left, into the hillside. A dip like a saddle, at the entrance of which s tood two large buildings where the various ropes, tools and vehicles were stored between uses. ‘That’s it.’
‘I still don’t understand.’
‘You could go mad yourself trying to ascribe meaning to the actions of the insane ,’ Fronto grunted . ‘ And no matter how focus ed he is, it’s hard to draw any other conclusion about Verginius’ state of mind. He’s crazed. Driven by vows that even he doesn’t want to carry out. I still don’t think he means to kill me, and if that’s the case what else is there in his eye-for-an-eye vengeance plan ? To make me a king of a tribe? He should have be en done with me once the slavers took me. H e knew I’d get out and he told me where to go next so there’s something else , but I won’t know what it is until we’re there.’
‘There is an alternative,’ Galronus said quietly. ‘Walk away. He’s all - but powerless now. Just leave him to his empty revenge. How much harm can he do?’
Fronto turned a hard look on his friend. ‘He had even less power after that battle with the Ilergetes, yet he became a king and threatened Roman peace in a whole region. He�
�s not an ordinary man, Galronus. He’s capable of almost anything, and left to his own devices he will always be a threat. Besides, I have to know what he wants .’
Galronus nodded his understanding. ‘ If we must, then. So how do we handle this?’
‘The whole place is l ike a ‘U’ cut into the hillside , with a narrow mouth. It gets d eeper as you move into the hill, of course . There’s a needle of stone in the middle where the overseers dish out water and so on when the quarry’s in use. The two buildings at the entrance are sealed up tight when not in use, but there’s only tools and ropes and planks and so on in them. A cart or two , maybe . There used to be a watchman on duty to look after them, but I remember the councillors in the city putting a stop to that, as it was costing the city more to pay the watchman than the value of the occasional theft of a cart or the like. Good old fashioned military sense tells me not to walk into the middle of the place. Being trapped in a ‘U’ is not a good way to start. So I suggest we climb the hill this side and work our way around at the top, keeping an eye out down into the quarry. Check out the lay of the land. ’
‘ I think we should leave the horses,’ Galronus noted. ‘ Being on horseback near a cliff on stony ground sounds like an invitation to a grim death to me.’
‘Agreed. We’ll tied them up over there.’
Marius' Mules IX: Pax Gallica Page 40
