I might have tried to calm him – an illicit assignation is embarrassing, no more – but the barn door behind me was opened suddenly and Biccus and Brianus were standing at my back – armed with the iron ladle and a burned-out torch, which they were fiercely brandishing. Brianus had a bucket in his other hand, and he tossed that to me, saying, ‘It’s empty but it’s heavy. If it hits them, it will hurt. I’m sorry, master, this is all the weaponry we’ve got. Unless Junio’s found something better in . . .’ He broke with a gasp as Florens flung himself upon my son and threw him to the floor.
The councillor was plump and ageing and Junio was young, but the attacker had the advantage of surprise. As Junio lay there winded on his face, Florens grabbed his hands and knelt on him, then – to my horror – he seized the heavy sack and brought it crashing down on Junio’s skull. The victim gave a little moan and then lay ominously still, a small red trickle oozing from his head.
We three lunged forward as one man to accost the councillor, who was standing up and coolly dusting off his hands, but before we reached him Florens gave a whistle through his teeth. Instantly Servilis came running from the field, like a sheepdog summoned by his master’s signal-call – except that this sheepdog had a dagger in his hand.
‘Arrest these people, Servilis.’ Florens was the picture of authority again, dignified and solemn in his mourning black. It was hard to believe what we had just seen him do. ‘Put them in the shed. And take this body somewhere and take care of it – by this time I imagine you know what to do.’
I stared at him, astounded. Pieces of pattern snapped suddenly in place. ‘You!’ I said. ‘You are the owner of this place. You knew there were bloodstains in there, didn’t you? So you set out to silence Junio. Well, you haven’t silenced me. You killed those people with the treasure-cart – or you had them killed – and now you’ve murdered Junio as well. Don’t think I’ll let you . . .’ I was prevented from saying any more. Servilis had seized me by one arm and was twisting it savagely up into my back, while his other hand held the dagger to my neck.
I thought of swiping at him with the pail, but a sudden pressure of the blade dissuaded me.
‘Put that bucket down.’
I dropped it instantly.
He turned to the others. ‘And drop those stupid weapons. Get into the barn. One false move from you two and your master’s dead as well.’
Brianus and Biccus sheepishly obeyed, but I hadn’t finished yet. After what had been done to Junio, I hardly cared what happened to myself. I shouted to Florens as we were marched inside, ‘You lured the treasure-cart in here and murdered all of them. How did you do it? Laced their wine with poppy-juice and stabbed them while they slept? Or even poisoned it? That would account for the stab-wounds after death . . . Ahhh!’ This as Servilis increased the pressure on my arm.
‘You want me to despatch him, master?’ my tormentor asked. Florens had followed us into the barn.
‘Leave him, Servilis, the man is just a fool. The courts will deal with him when we take him back. We’ve caught him outright now. Look at all the extra charges we can bring to bear: escaping from the fortress – as I assume he did – breaking into buildings, trying to attack a Roman citizen and impugning the honour of a councillor. The wretch I caught stealing isn’t even dead. I can see him breathing. So there’s another thing. Accusing me of murder, in front of witnesses! I wonder what my friend the magistrate will make of that.’
‘You attacked a Roman citizen yourself,’ I said, braving the threat of further damage to my arm. Now it was relief that made me bold. ‘The man you set on was my adopted son. If you didn’t kill him, it was merely chance. And don’t think that you’ll avoid the charge by just arraigning me. If I’m consigned to exile, my patron will bring the matter of the assault to court.’
Florens was entirely unmoved. ‘You mean that wretch I brought down in the court? But, my dear Libertus, he was just a thief. I caught him escaping from my private barn with a bag of my possessions in his hand. The lictor’s widow is a witness to the fact. The law permits me to defend my property. No court is going to punish me for that.’
His air of outraged reason made me furious, but with the dagger at my throat there was little I could do. Junio was obviously seriously hurt – I thanked the gods that it was nothing more than that – and I was certain to be exiled for life. Everything I’d worked for was slipping from my grasp.
I was not the only one. Behind me I could hear the smothered sobbing of my slave. Brianus. Of course, he was under threat as well. If he was discovered now, he was in danger of his life – my testimony as a criminal would be no help to him. But there was a chance for him. Brianus was purchased in Britannia, so Voluus’s widow did not know his face, and neither Florens nor Servilis had seen the boy before – it was Porteus’s bodyguard who caught and questioned him.
I looked Florens in his pink-rimmed eyes. ‘Well. You have caught me. Take me to the court. And you have a case against my son, if he survives. But let the others go. They have done nothing.’
Florens looked scorning. ‘Nothing except break into my property.’
‘They broke into nothing. The doors were all unlocked. They simply sought shelter in a deserted farm. How could they possibly have known that it was yours?’
I could see that he was tempted. There was nothing to be gained by his detaining them – he could not pretend that they had helped me with the crimes, because they almost certainly had witnesses to prove that they had not, and in any case they could not be tried with me. As non-citizens they would need a separate court – at, of course, additional expense.
Florens frowned. ‘Who are they anyway? What are they doing here?’
‘This man is Biccus, from a farm nearby,’ I was already beginning to explain.
But Brianus interrupted me. ‘He doesn’t know me, master, but I’ve seen him before. I saw him at the mansio, when Voluus was here.’
Florens pounced on the implication instantly. ‘You are the lictor’s slave! The one that ran away. So, Libertus, in addition to his other crimes, has been harbouring a fugitive as well. More indication – if we needed it – that he had friends within the household who could have helped him plot!’ He smirked. ‘And when Voluus is murdered you are both found nearby! I think the court will find that quite significant.’ He turned to me and smiled. ‘So, citizen, I don’t think we can agree to your request. I think we’ll have your two companions taken to the jail. Gagged and bound, I think, so they can’t run away. And listen – there is the sound of wheels and hoof-beats in the court. Here are the very people to take care of it. I think you’ve met my private escort, citizen?’
My throat was too dry to make any reply, Behind me, Brianus was weeping quietly. ‘I am sorry, master, I have let you down.’ Biccus was saying nothing, as was often the case.
Florens was already striding to the door, raising his voice and shouting to his men. ‘Come in here, lads, and take these three away. Don’t be too gentle, they’re thieves and murderers – we caught them in the act. Make sure you bind them most securely and keep them at knife-point all the way, though if your hand should slip I shouldn’t fret too much. We’ll claim that they were trying to avoid arrest.’ He peered out into the strengthening light. ‘Come on, then. Get on with it. We haven’t got all day.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
There was a rattling of hobnails and half a dozen running men stormed in. I braced myself but it was not the shattering surge of Florens’s brutal bodyguard. This group was in formation and were carrying drawn swords, and their leader was a breathless and plump centurion.
‘Emelius!’ I breathed. I had never been more relieved to encounter anyone. ‘What are you doing here?’ Then I remembered my conversation at the garrison the evening before. ‘The commander has sent you to investigate?’
‘Nothing of the kind,’ he said without a smile. ‘I was sent here to arrest you. You were supposed to be sleeping at your patron’s flat, but you got out somehow. When they foun
d you missing, they came back to us and the commander guessed where you had gone. And when we went to requisition a larger vehicle . . .’
My heart sank, but I nodded. ‘I’m sorry about that. And, of course, your suspicions were confirmed.’
Biccus was gaping at me. ‘You mean you didn’t have permission to take that cart at all? Dear Jupiter! And to think that I agreed to come with you! I hope you’re satisfied. Look what troubles you have made for all of us.’
Emelius looked stern. ‘Well, he won’t be making trouble for you any more. I’m under instructions to take him to the court. No doubt there’ll be a few more charges to answer after this.’ He turned to me. ‘I hope for your sake that we get there before your accuser does; otherwise your patron will be liable to a fine. He won’t be happy – he is threatening to disown you as it is.’
I was past desperation, so I simply said, ‘My accuser will be there. He’s standing right behind you.’
The centurion whirled round. ‘Of course. I recognize the face. The councillor who brought you to the garrison. A thousand pardons, Worthiness, I did not know you in those mourning robes.’ It was understandable. Without the resplendent purple stripe, Florens looked almost insignificant.
His personality was undiminished, though. He waved a lofty hand. ‘I am expecting a cart-load of my slaves to arrive at any time. I was going to escort this villain to the courts myself, and his companions, too. I am going to charge all three of them with robbery and assault – but now you can deliver them instead.’ He nodded to Servilis. ‘You can let the prisoner go. Go and guard the lady until the others come – fortunately I’ll be able to leave them here with her, as planned.’
‘Lady? What lady?’ Emelius looked around in puzzlement. In other circumstances, it would have made me smile. Even Servilis was smirking as he bowed and left.
‘The lady Alcanta is under my protection now that her husband is unfortunately dead, centurion,’ Florens told him rather haughtily. ‘She has been enjoying the hospitality of my residence in town, but of course that cannot decently continue very long. Voluus did leave an apartment in the town, but after what has happened she’s afraid of living there – especially with an infant child to think about. It happened that I recently acquired this farm . . .’
‘You?’ I interrupted. ‘Biccus told me that it had been bought by somebody from Gaul, who was intending to build a new villa on the site.’
Florens looked pitying at me. ‘I assure you that it’s mine. Her husband did express an interest in obtaining it – his wife, he said, would like a country property – but at the time the owner was not prepared to sell. When I heard it was available I purchased it myself, hoping I could tempt him into it. But when Alcanta came, and it was obviously unsafe for her to move into the flat, I brought her out here to see if she would like it as a temporary home, until more permanent arrangements can be made for her. No one but ourselves would know that she was here. Even so, with all the threats to Voluus, I thought that she required a guard.’
It was so sweetly reasonable that I almost believed the words myself. Emelius, though, had practical concerns. ‘But the lady will surely have a guardian under law, under the terms of Voluus’s will?’ he said with courtesy. ‘Should he not be consulted, before such plans are made?’
‘Voluus has left everything to his wife and child, and I am nominated as their guardian in Britannia,’ Florens said. ‘I can produce a document, under Voluus’s seal, confirming it. And here is the lady now; she will tell you the same thing.’
I turned. Alcanta was coming through the door into the barn, framed in the first golden rays of sun and I heard a stifled gasp as the soldiers took in how beautiful she was. Beautiful, but perhaps indecorous, it was not her fault that she was not at home, but a mourning widow should wear a veil and weep, not wander freely round the premises when there were men about. Calvinus had called her ‘wilful’, I recalled.
‘Florens!’ She went to him with little tripping steps. ‘I came to warn you that the boy you hit is slightly stirring now. Servilis is with him to make sure he doesn’t bolt. It’s just as well we went to look at him. I got tired of waiting for you in the house. What has detained you?’ She looked around and seemed to notice the armed soldiers with alarm. ‘Who are all these guards? What are they doing here? They haven’t . . . ?’
Florens held up a hand to silence her. ‘Nothing to concern yourself about, Alcanta. I will handle this. They have simply come to take our unwelcome visitors to court.’
He had spoken very firmly and I saw her set her lips. The pretty chin was raised in a defiant jut. ‘Well, make them go away. If we are to be married and go back to Gaul when I am out of mourning . . .’
I interrupted her. ‘Married! But Florens is contracted to marry someone else.’
Florens had turned from pink to scarlet now. ‘Not so, citizen. I don’t know how you came to hear of that, but in any case the contract will be void. It depended on a dowry that will not now be paid.’ He turned to Alcanta. ‘Take no notice, lady. The citizen is wrong. All will be exactly as I promised you. You and your infant will be safe with me.’
The girl in widow’s mourning stole a doubting look at him. ‘If you say so, Florens.’ She sounded unconvinced.
The councillor propelled her by the arm and led her briskly to the door, though she did not look as if she cared for that. ‘Then, centurion, if you would care to bind and take your prisoners under guard, I will follow in the gig and see you at the court. Alcanta, I will have to leave you here a little while – I’ll make arrangements for the funeral while I am in town and have your husband’s body moved into the flat, where I suppose a servant should start on the lament – but my escort-slaves will very soon be here and then you’ll have a guard. In the meantime, look around the place and see if it will suit you as a temporary home. I will return as soon as possible. The trial of this miscreant should not take very long.’ He was already striding off with her across the court.
Emelius watched them go, then jerked a thumb at me. ‘Very well, then. Let’s have you on our cart. It won’t be a very comfortable ride for you today! You two soldiers on the end can bring the other pair – and I suppose we’d better take the one that’s over there, as well.’ He gestured two more of his men towards where Junio was still lying in the court, with Servilis standing over him. Florens and the lady had also stopped to look.
‘That is my adopted son,’ I said. ‘He is a citizen, and Florens attacked him. He almost broke his skull.’
The centurion made a little face. ‘Tell that to the court. The councillor claims that you were robbing him. And the lad’s not desperately hurt – you heard they’d seen him stir.’
‘Then let’s try and revive him, not drag him like a sack,’ I pleaded. ‘A splash of water might help bring him round.’
‘Oh, very well,’ he said reluctantly. ‘It’s easier to manage a man when he’s awake. I noticed that there was a bucket at the door. I’ll get my men to fill it with water from the well and fling it over him. That should do the trick. See to it, soldier.’ He nodded to one of his two remaining men.
The fellow nodded and ran off to the well, carrying the bucket. I was wishing that I’d had the wit to use it as a weapon when I could, but it was too late now. Emelius had his centurion’s baton in his hand, and was prodding me towards the open hiring-cart – probably the very one I’d ridden in last night, though the driver was a man I didn’t recognize. Biccus and Brianus were shoved up after me, their hands bound behind them with a piece of rope. As a citizen, at least I was spared the indignity of that.
I craned to see if they had managed to wake up Junio, but the soldier with the bucket was standing helplessly, looking round the court as if searching for the well. Florens made no move at all to help.
Biccus saw the problem. ‘The well is in the corner over there,’ he shouted, gesturing in the right direction with his head. He turned to me and added, in the Celtic tongue, ‘I ought to know. I almost fell into it whe
n I came before – to tell the owner to control his dogs.’
The soldier nodded an acknowledgement and trotted over to fill up his pail, but Florens gave a roar and rushed across to him. ‘Stop! What in Hades are you doing! Keep away from there.’
The man stopped, bewildered. ‘But the centurion said . . .’
Florens’s manner altered instantly to one of unctuous charm. ‘I think the well is poisoned. It’s not safe to use. If you want water, get it from the stream.’ He smiled apologetically at Emelius. ‘I’m sorry, officer. That well is dangerous. One of the first things that I propose to do is fill it in and dig another one.’ He turned to Alcanta and smiled down at her. ‘I can’t have anything happen to the lady here.’
Biccus was scowling and grumbling audibly. ‘Shouldn’t be anything the matter with that well. My family had this farm for centuries. Perfectly good water from it all that time. Someone has been careless and let something rot down there. I told you that ex-soldier did not know the first thing about how to run a farm.’
Alcanta threw a look of purest hate at him and Florens looked furious, but Emelius simply shrugged. ‘Well, it hardly matters what the water’s like. He isn’t going to drink it anyway. We only want to throw a little over him to bring him round. Jump to it, soldier!’
The man saluted smartly and started to obey, expertly tying the pail onto the waiting chain, ready to lower it gently down into the well, but Florens stepped forward and intervened again. ‘I told you, it’s poisonous – you’ll get it in his mouth!’
The soldier hesitated in his task and looked to his superior to advise. As he did so, I had a wild idea.
‘Tell him to do it, Emelius!’ I cried. ‘I think I know what is hidden down that well.’
Florens would have slain me, if a look could kill. But he essayed a casual laugh. ‘Nonsense! Of course there’s nothing hidden in the well – except the water which, as I say, is dangerous.’ He looked around, as if appealing to the gods, before he said, ‘I expect that’s why the previous owner was so keen to sell the farm but, as the law says, the buyer must beware.’
A Whispering of Spies Page 24
