The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5

by Nick Brown

  Something – or more likely someone – smashed into the bed, knocking it several inches in the air. But there was a legionary on either side, holding it in place. A stave punched a hole in one of the planks, then a second blow sent the plank flying.

  The timber hit the wall next to Cassius. He saw the press of bodies through the gap in the bed. And a broad-bladed dagger. And a curved sword.

  He looked around. The injured legionary was slumped in a corner, hand holding the bloodied handkerchief against his neck, gazing at the door. Kallikres was leaning back against the wall, face twitching.

  The legionary whom Cassius had struck was standing beside him, hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword once more. ‘Now, sir?’

  Hearing a strange noise, Cassius glanced over at the four cages in another corner. They contained dozens of dormice, probably bred to sell as food. As the clamour outside grew, the squeaking rodents scrabbled around, claws scraping the cage.

  Cassius looked up. The roof of the dwelling was flat; dried mud brick like the rest of it. With a little time they might have cut through. But they didn’t have any time.

  Another plank went flying and the drawers were shoved back.

  ‘Sir?’ yelled one of the men at the door.

  Cassius did not know what else he could have done. ‘We kill one of them, the others will kill us all.’

  The legionary drew his blade anyway. ‘Sorry, sir. Decimus, Laenas – they’ll get through. We’re better off standing together here.’

  The others let go of the bed, took out their swords and stood beside him.

  With unblinking eyes, Kallikres stepped forward and slipped his dagger from its sheath.

  Cassius saw the dead guard in Arabia, lying on that outhouse floor. The man he had killed.

  If he wanted to live he would have to kill again. But these were not enemies of Rome. These were citizens.

  He knew what Indavara would say. He gripped the handle and drew his sword. ‘Hit the first ones hard. We might just make the others think twice.’

  The bed came flying off the drawers and landed in front of them. There were two men in the doorway, one armed with a club, one with a sword. They were being pushed against the drawers, a mass of faces behind them.

  ‘Hold there!’ yelled the largest of the pair over his shoulder. ‘Do you want us to fall?’

  The others stopped pushing.

  ‘Send up the lances.’ The big man’s tunic was wet through with sweat. Around his neck was a large, cheap amulet of yellow glass.

  ‘You,’ said Cassius. ‘We can still stop this.’

  The big man stared at him with pale, lifeless eyes and thumped his club into his hand.

  One of the soldiers stepped forward. ‘Vonones, it’s me – Cita.’ He smiled. ‘I went to your wedding.’

  The Syrian eyed him for a moment, then spoke over his shoulder. ‘The lances – now!’

  The men behind him parted.

  ‘Get a bloody move on!’

  One of the others tapped Vonones on the shoulder. He turned and watched a tall figure push through the crowd. They had all gone quiet.

  Diadromes was panting, chest heaving up and down. He looked into the room, then spoke to Vonones.

  ‘There has been enough killing today. I have been riding across the city talking to all that will listen – I intend to stand for election and replace Pomponianus as magistrate. My first act will be to remove Nemetorius, my second will be to punish all those who have killed without reason; soldiers and citizens. The list is already far too long. I have no wish to add to it.’

  ‘You have not done enough,’ said Vonones.

  ‘Maybe,’ replied Diadromes, eyes locked on the big man. ‘But I’m doing something now.’

  Vonones glanced around at the others, then slowly lowered his club.

  The legionaries muttered curses. Kallikres thanked the gods.

  Cassius dropped to his knees, the sword clattering to the floor beside him.

  XXXVI

  ‘You must be tired.’

  Cassius didn’t even have the energy to give Indavara an answer. He was sitting in the kitchen of the dwelling, sipping from a mug of water. Piled up next to him were his sword, satchel, undershirt and mail shirt. Kallikres and the legionaries also had no wish to go outside; the protesters had left the building but there were still dozens gathered in the street. Simo was crouching over the injured legionary, examining his wounds.

  Indavara reached down and pulled Cassius to his feet.

  ‘Thanks. Are the horses close?’

  ‘Yes, with the sergeants.’

  ‘I suppose we must go,’ said Cassius, though he felt like doing nothing but stripping off, bathing, then lying undisturbed in bed for a week.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Stay here and treat him, Simo. Look after my mail shirt. We’ll meet you back at the tower. Kallikres.’

  The sergeant got up but all sense of urgency had left him. ‘We’re too late. We’re too late now.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  Indavara passed Cassius his sword and satchel and they walked outside into the bright morning light.

  ‘Looks like we got here just in time,’ said the bodyguard.

  ‘Thank the gods you found Diadromes. I have had the misfortune to be caught in a mob several times in my life and there is nothing more unpredictable or unpleasant.’

  Cassius didn’t risk even a glance at the cityfolk, some of whom had been ready to tear him to pieces half an hour earlier. Diadromes – accompanied by several sergeants – was still talking to Vonones and a few others, who thankfully seemed to be listening. The crowd parted as more men arrived on horseback. One of them was Cosmas.

  ‘I’ll get the mounts. You can use Simo’s.’ Indavara ran over to another sergeant, who was watching the horses.

  ‘Why are you still here, sir?’ asked Cosmas.

  ‘An unexpected delay. We must get to the villa. Now.’

  ‘I’ll go with you.’

  ‘Good. Can you get a spare horse for Kallikres?’

  Cosmas spoke to one of the men dismounting.

  When Indavara returned, Cassius had to take several long breaths before hauling himself up on to the saddle.

  He eyed the sun, now veiled by a thin haze.

  ‘Gods, must be close to the fourth hour.’

  As Indavara mounted up, Cosmas and Kallikres rode over. Cassius continued to avoid looking at the protesters even as he guided his horse through them. Once clear of the watching Syrians, he waved Kallikres forward and they set off at a canter.

  Other than a brief hold-up at the eastern gate – which was busy with residents trying to leave and a few oblivious traders trying to get in – they made good time. Even beyond the paved section, the road was of smooth, solid earth hardened by the summer heat.

  With no protection for his head, Cassius was sweating almost as much as his horse by the time they turned off on to another road that ran up through olive groves and vineyards, past large estates and small farmhouses. They were soon in the foothills of the Lebanon range, whose dark peaks rose up stark and proud in the cloudless sky.

  As they neared the villa, Kallikres seemed to acquire a new-found sense of purpose. Unlike Indavara and Cosmas, he was a capable rider and forced the pace, even though Cassius was already pushing his mount as hard as he dared. The sergeant had just announced that there wasn’t far to go when he abruptly halted his horse. Cassius stopped next to him.

  A whisper of breeze shook the branches of the cedars either side of them. Ahead – where the road bent around to the left – a slow-moving party of people had appeared. At the rear was a small cart being towed by a pair of mules.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked Cassius.

  The sergeant guided his horse forward.

  ‘Kallikres?’

  Cassius and the others followed him until he stopped once more, just in front of the group. There were six of them in all, four women and two men, all dressed in servants’ gar
b. At the front of the cart were some wicker baskets and a few bags. But at the rear were the unmistakable shapes of two bodies, each covered by a blanket.

  ‘Who are they?’ repeated Cassius.

  ‘From the villa,’ said Kallikres. ‘Where is he? Where is Pedrix?’

  One of the maids, a pretty, fair-haired girl, answered. ‘He is with them.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  The maid turned and pointed up at the mountains.

  ‘The high trail,’ added one of the men.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Cassius, transfixed by the bodies.

  The man gulped before answering. ‘The two stable lads tried to take some gems while loading their horses but they were discovered by Master. Mistress … she … used his knife on them.’

  ‘Which way on the trail?’ asked Kallikres. ‘North or south?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘How long ago did they leave?’ asked Cassius.

  ‘An hour. No more.’

  Kallikres set his horse away and continued up the road.

  Cosmas spoke to the servant. ‘Wait at the eastern gate. All of you. Someone will be along later.’

  The servant nodded solemnly.

  Cassius, Indavara and Cosmas rode on. Beyond the bend, the canopy of cedars became more dense, providing welcome relief from the sun. They passed no one but saw three tracks leading off to properties hidden by the trees. Cassius had no idea which one led to the villa.

  They eventually caught up with Kallikres two miles later as the trees thinned out again and the road baked under a dazzling heat. The sergeant pointed up and to the south.

  ‘The high trail,’ said Cosmas.

  The pale path ran along the flank of the mountains, partially visible through the top of the treeline.

  ‘It’s more likely they’ll head south,’ said Kallikres. ‘More routes of escape.’ He pressed on, oblivious to the protestations of Indavara and Cosmas.

  ‘We must continue,’ insisted Cassius, though he felt as if he might slide to the ground and collapse at any moment.

  As they neared the high trail, the road began to steepen. The horses had now been pushed hard for an hour and a half and all were struggling. When they reached a small house close to the road, Cosmas offered the resident a coin in return for use of his trough. He, Cassius and Indavara leaned against a gate and drank from the sergeant’s flask. The horses slurped noisily, their flesh embroidered with engorged veins. Kallikres took out a good-luck charm and whispered invocations.

  ‘Where does this high trail lead to?’ asked Indavara, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

  Cosmas said, ‘It cuts through a pass at Kaena then enters the Bekaa valley.’

  ‘From there they can pick up any number of roads,’ added Cassius.

  ‘You can see the pass from here.’ Cosmas backed away from the gate and looked south. ‘No more than four or five miles.’

  Kallikres had finished his prayers and was dragging his horse away from the trough.

  ‘We have tarried long enough,’ said Cassius. ‘Let’s go.’

  The sun grew hotter, the road steeper. But after only half an hour more they finally reached the trail and turned south. Once more on level ground, the mounts rallied a little, as did the riders. The trail was barely wide enough for two horses to pass, allowing the trees to provide much-needed shade. Here and there, bulbous outcrops of rock broke through the ground, many of them coated with bright yellow lichen. Soaring above them were the pale grey slopes of the mountains; below was a carpet of dark green that seemed to stretch for ever, dividing the peaks from the coast. To the west, the sea occasionally sparkled through the summer haze.

  They rode on, and twice Cassius had to berate Kallikres for getting too far ahead. Hunched over, face not far from his mount’s neck, he wondered what kind of state the four of them would be in if they actually caught up with the fleeing pair. Cursing as Kallikres again disappeared around a bend, Cassius glanced back at the other two. Indavara was a hundred yards behind and slumped back in his saddle, barely holding his reins. Cosmas was beside him and didn’t seem to be faring much better. Cassius knew the horses would need water again soon but they hadn’t passed a single spring and there were no dwellings this high.

  Once around the bend, Cassius saw the sergeant, fifty yards away. Ahead of him were two colossal chunks of rock that had at some point fallen from above. The trail passed the first one to the left then cut down the slope to avoid the second, which was much larger. The sergeant was approaching the first rock when he held up a hand and dismounted.

  Cassius looked back again; Indavara and Cosmas had just rounded the bend. He waved to Indavara then held a finger to his mouth. They halted. Cassius dropped gently to the ground and watched Kallikres. The Syrian left his horse and walked carefully forward until he was next to the first rock, close to the point where the trail turned down the slope. His hand drifted to his sword hilt as he walked on, taking care with every step.

  ‘Bloody fool,’ breathed Cassius. Kallikres should have waited for them if he thought there was something worth investigating. But could they really have caught up already?

  The sergeant reached the edge of the smaller rock and looked around the bend. He then walked swiftly back to his mount. Stroking the animal to keep it calm, he led it back to Cassius.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘There are two horses tied up, drinking from a pool.’

  ‘Did you see the riders?’

  ‘No. But I heard a woman’s voice.’

  Once they reached Indavara and Cosmas, Kallikres again described what he’d seen and they led the horses out of sight. While the others tethered them, Cassius walked back to the bend and surveyed the terrain ahead. The weariness had momentarily left him.

  ‘Cosmas, you and Kallikres continue along the trail and get as close as you can. Indavara and I shall come around the right side of the smaller rock and cut them off.’

  As the four of them walked along the trail, Cosmas gripped his sword.

  ‘Not yet,’ said Cassius. ‘Main thing is to get into position, stop them getting to their mounts. We move in when I give the shout, not before.’

  Once they reached the smaller rock, Cassius and Indavara edged down the slope. Thankfully, there were few fallen twigs underfoot; it was mainly grass and fern. Cassius kept close to the rock, moving around it until he was only yards from the trail. Conscious of his colourful tunic, he got down on his knees then crawled forward. Positioning himself between two ferns, he examined the ground ahead.

  The horses were tied to a low branch on the other side of the trail. One was munching grass, the other was drinking from the pool. Cassius glimpsed something beyond them. He put his head even lower so he could see between the animals’ legs.

  There they were; standing together in a small clearing. The woman’s back was to Cassius, her long hair quite clear. The man was facing her, a shaft of sunlight illuminating his side. Cassius thought they were talking but it was hard to be sure.

  Indavara tapped his leg. Cassius withdrew and stood beside him. ‘Got them. Man and a woman about forty feet ahead of us. Horses are in the way, though. We’ll go round.’

  They retreated into the forest, then continued down the slope, staying low and using the trees and the fern for cover. They covered about thirty yards before crossing the trail, where they had a clear view of Kallikres and Cosmas. The two sergeants were standing in the shadow of the larger rock, close to the mounts but well hidden.

  Cassius and Indavara continued circling around until they were on the opposite side of the clearing to the horses. The man and the woman were still standing together, talking. Cassius and Indavara darted from tree to tree, the shadows of the canopy shrouding them.

  They stopped behind a broad trunk and gently drew their swords.

  ‘He has only the dagger,’ whispered Indavara, ‘and I see nothing on her. I’ll come in from the right and handle him.’

  ‘Got it.’

&
nbsp; Keeping his blade behind his body, Indavara moved off. Cassius squatted down and peered around the tree. The woman offered her hands and the man took them. She spoke. They embraced.

  Cassius glanced to his right. Indavara was still moving but this opportunity had to be taken. As if hearing his thoughts, the bodyguard turned round and they exchanged a nod.

  Cassius stepped out from behind the tree and strode into the clearing.

  ‘Now, Cosmas!’

  The pair separated and spun around, eyes darting from one interloper to the other.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the man, who was younger than Cassius had expected.

  ‘Imperial Security. I’d like to talk to you about counterfeit coins.’

  The man made no attempt to reach for his dagger as Indavara sprang forward and held his arm.

  The startled horses whinnied and tugged at their tethers as Cosmas and Kallikres ran around the pool into the clearing. The sergeant gave a cry and for a moment Cassius thought he was about to strike the man but he instead threw his blade aside and embraced him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded Indavara, letting go.

  Cassius grabbed the woman by the wrist and spun her around. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I am Lyra, sir,’ she said, in Latin, with what to Cassius sounded like a German accent. ‘I – I – think perhaps you are looking for my master and mistress. They told us to just keep riding but the horses grew tired.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Cosmas.

  Kallikres was holding the young man tight, his eyes squeezed shut. Only now did the youth reciprocate, putting his arms around the sergeant.

  ‘Where are they?’ Indavara asked the maid. ‘Your master and mistress.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said the girl. ‘They left with the other staff.’

  Gritting his teeth, Cassius dug his sword blade into the soil and knelt in front of it. ‘The “bodies” under the blanket. They were right there. We had them.’