Camulod Chronicles Book 1 - The Skystone

by Whyte, Jack

  "When we went looking for him. he had gone, back to the Court in Constantinople. Nesca laughed at us and threw us off his land. And the witnesses against his houseguest disappeared, the same way the boys did."

  "I see." It was time to change the subject. My host's self-possession was deteriorating rapidly. "What business were you in?" He blinked his eyes rapidly, clearing them of the tears that were gathering there, and he flipped the gold coin again.

  "I was a wine importer. Not a big one, but comfortable. I learned the ins and outs of shipping the stuff while I was in the navy. Started small, once I got out, and did well. Then I saw a chance to operate on a bigger scale and borrowed the money to do it. "

  "And?"

  "The ship sank. Or pirates got it. Either way, it makes no difference to me. Nesca took everything I had. "

  "How long were you in the navy?"

  "Fifteen years. Got out when I was thirty. "

  "And after fifteen years, you risked everything on one shipload?" He smiled, without humour. "No, on two, but the second one didn't arrive within three months of its expected date. By the time it did, it was Nesca's. "

  I felt a stab of sympathy. "He wouldn't wait any longer?"

  "He wouldn't wait at all, the fat son of a whore. He paid the second shipmaster to take a tour. I found out afterwards. That was seven years ago, so you can keep your money, it's too late to do me any good. I'll get my satisfaction out of cheating that fat pig out of his. Are you hungry?" Suddenly I was ravenous. I nodded.

  "Good, " he said. "Let's eat. There isn't much, and it isn't epicurean, but it'll fill our bellies. I'm Tertius Pella. "

  I gripped his outstretched arm. "Publius Varrus. " He produced bread and cheese and onions pickled in sour wine and we devoured them, and then he brought out a jar of truly wondrous wine, rich and red as blood, and I stopped with the cup halfway to my lips.

  "What's the matter?"

  I lowered the cup. "Guilt. You're giving me your hospitality and I've brought you more trouble than you know. "

  "How so?"

  "There are two dead men in your stable, under the hay. "

  "Ayee!" He twisted his face. "That's awkward. Two of Nesca's?" I nodded. "I'm sorry. "

  "So am I! They're bound to come back this way and search again. We'd better move them. "

  "Move them? Where to?"

  "Dump them into the cellar under the floor and cover the door with straw. I'll bury them later. "

  "What about the blood stains? If they search, they'll see them. "

  "Are they bad?"

  I nodded. "They bled like pigs. "

  "Not inappropriate. But where are they? I didn't notice them when I was out there. "

  "You weren't looking, otherwise you couldn't have missed them. "

  "Damnation! I can't claim ignorance, even though it's the truth. They'll never believe I didn't know the bodies were there when I wouldn't let them search. They'll haul me in front of Nesca, and as soon as he sees my face I'm done for. He knows I know he robbed me. This will be a perfect chance for him to silence me for good. "

  He stopped and looked at me strangely.

  "Where will you go when you get away from here? Where do you live?"

  "On a villa, about forty miles south of here. "

  "A villa, eh? You own it?"

  I shook my head. "No, it belongs to a friend of mine. You'd like him. "

  "Can I come with you?"

  He had surprised me again. "Come with me? You mean for good? What about your business?"

  He looked around the shop. "What business? Nesca can have it, as a shrine for the bodies in the cellar. I'm sick of it. " I laughed, quietly. "Tertius Pella, " I said, "if we ever get out of here alive, you will be welcome at our villa. "

  "Excellent!" He lifted his cup in a toast. "Here's to new friendships, new futures and a lingering, evil death for fat thieves!" We emptied our cups, and he rose and went again to the shutters and stood there for a time, peering out through the cracks. The noise in the street outside had died away almost completely. Finally he spoke over his shoulder.

  "You said you had a wagon being loaded with hemp. Is your driver a big, red-haired fellow, wearing a blue tunic?"

  I was at his side in a second, and there was my own wagon, outside in the street.

  "That's it! Get him in here! Can you do that? His name's Cerdic. "

  "Cerdic. Give me a minute. "

  It took him about three minutes, and then they were both back, Cerdic as glad to see me as I was to see him. My men had recognized me from the description they were given by the searchers, although they had said nothing to any of them. They had split up then and were now combing the town looking for me. Cerdic had stayed with the wagon, unwilling to abandon it. They had planned to reassemble at our camp outside of town and spend the night there before renewing their search for me tomorrow. Cerdic was in a fever to get me into the wagon and covered up from sight. He had just been searched, he said, at the end of the street, and if we moved quickly, he thought he could go back the same way without being searched again. It was time for a quick and dangerous decision. Tertius showed him the back entrance and I waited there for them, opening the door when I heard them returning. Cerdic backed the wagon in immediately and I dived into the evil-smelling hemp and burrowed deep. I could feel Tertius Pella rearranging the load to hide all signs of my entrance. We pulled out again immediately and within ten minutes we were back at the checkpoint where Cerdic had been searched. I heard the watchman's challenge.

  "Come on, man!" Cerdic roared. "You've just searched me! You've been through the whole whoreson wagon! I went to the end of the street to pick up my friend, here, at the mansio. Do you want us to strip for you? Want us to empty the whole whoreson lot right here on the road? If you're going to search, get to it! I've got better things to do than waste my time squatting here while you shed your fleas all over me. " I couldn't hear the answer he received, but we sat there for long, long minutes. I felt somebody's weight moving around on the wagon bed, standing on the cargo piled above me. I imagined whoever it was to be stabbing at random among the hemp with a spear, and my mouth dried up as I waited for the point of it to find me. It was hot and uncomfortable under there, and I started to have difficulty breathing. My throat grew dry and raspy, and I began to develop an urge to cough. I worked my tongue frantically, trying to generate saliva to kill the dryness. And then the wagon lurched forward and we were moving again, for a few paces. I heard Cerdic shouting something else, but I couldn't hear what he said. After a few more minutes, we moved on. The relief was overwhelming, and I lost the urge to cough.

  As the wagon rattled through the cobbled streets, I found I was protected from the jarring by the springiness of the hemp, and I was almost lulled to sleep. Strangely, I thought, we were not stopped again for a long time, and when we did stop it was only for a second. I heard Cerdic shout goodbye to someone and wondered what was happening up there. Had Tertius Pella changed his mind about leaving after all? I knew that Cerdic would call me when we were safe and not before, so I made the best of my enforced idleness by going over the list of supplies that I would not be taking back to the Colony this time.

  Suddenly we stopped again. There was a commotion above me, and I felt cool air on my face.

  "Publius? Are you all right?"

  I spat hemp out of my mouth and sat up. "I'm well. Are we safe?" Cerdic laughed. "Aye. We're out of it. Thank the gods you kept your mouth shut. I didn't know if that first guard had killed you with his spear, but there was nothing I could do about it until we were safely out of the town, beyond the gates. "

  "What happened to Tertius Pella? Why did he leave?" He looked puzzled, standing there staring down at me. "Leave? He didn't. He's here. "

  "Then who got off the wagon?"

  "Oh, that!" He laughed. "That was the centurion who was riding with us. He got us through all the guard posts and we dropped him at the gates. That's why I was glad you kept your mouth shut. If you ha
d squawked, I'd have had to kill him, and we'd really have been in trouble. Let me help you out of there. "

  Half an hour later we were at our camp. All of the other wagons had arrived ahead of us, and only two men were missing. They had stayed in Aquae Sulis, lodged at the mansio in the hope of hearing news of my escape or capture. They would rejoin the others in the morning. I introduced Tertius Pella to his new neighbours. When I told them all the story of my misadventures that day, and how he had befriended me, they welcomed him as one of themselves.

  Our two absentees joined us shortly after daybreak the next day and were astounded to see me. I laughed at the stupefaction on their faces.

  *'What kept you two?" I asked them. "We've been waiting here for you all night. "

  "All night?" Tarpo Sulla, the elder of the two, looked confused and upset. "What d'you mean, all night? When did you get here?" I looked at Cerdic, surprised by the vehemence of Tarpo's question.

  "When was it, Cerdic? The eighth hour? Just shortly after dark. Why?"

  "Then it wasn't you. "

  "What wasn't me? Tarpo, you're not making sense. "

  "Oh yes I am, " Tarpo growled. "That whoreson Nesca was murdered last night. Strangled. Right after supper, on his way to bed. Somebody jumped him in the privy and almost cut his head off with a thin rope. They're blaming it on you. "

  I sat down heavily on the stump behind me. Every eye in the camp was on me, waiting for my reaction. There was no question of suspicion in anyone's mind. I had sat talking with them around the fire until almost midnight. The mere linking of my name with the murder of Quinctilius Nesca, however, was a serious matter. My name!

  "They're blaming it on me, you say? Do they have my name? Are they looking for Publius Varrus?"

  "No, they're looking for a grey-bearded, strong-looking man who walks with a bad limp in his left leg. They don't know your name. But there must be a lot of people in that town who do. The people we do business with, for a start. Sooner or later, one of them's going to mention your name and point the finger. "

  If he was right, I would be wanted for a triple murder when the bodies of the other two were discovered. I tried frantically to think of how many people there were in Aquae Sulis who could identify me, and try as I would, I could think of none. I had only been to the town once before. I had spent three days there, as a stranger, passing through on my way to Caius's villa for the first time. I turned to Cerdic.

  "Cerdic, think hard. When we were at the ropery yesterday, did I tell him my name? Can you remember?"

  His brow furrowed in thought. "D'you know, I don't think you did. " He thought further. "No, I'm sure of it. You didn't. He was a surly bugger, and you argued the price with him, but you weren't friendly at all. You paid him cash and then spoke to me. Told me you were going to the mansio, and then you took off. "

  "You're right, Cerdic. I didn't tell him my name. Did you tell him yours?

  Did he know you?"

  He shook his head. "No. Never seen him before. "I think he's new. I wouldn't have given him the time of day, never mind my name. Why? Is it important?"

  I looked around at all of them. "Aye, " I answered him. "It's very important. You people are known in that town, but I'm not. That's the second time I've ever been there, and the first time I was just passing through. Nobody knows me there, and the only person who saw me with any of you this time was the roper. That means they won't find out my name, and they won't tie me to any of you. It also means I won't be going back there for a while. " There was a small ripple of laughter at that as I went on. "I don't know who killed Quinctilius Nesca, but a man like that is never short of enemies. I do know, however, and you know, too, that it wasn't Publius Varrus. Now we'd better get back to the Colony as quickly as we can. The sooner we're away from here, the happier I'll be. " I stopped as a curious thought occurred to me, and I turned again to the men who had brought the news.

  "You say Nesca was attacked and murdered in the night. Who found the body, and where?"

  Tarpo Sulla scowled in thought. "I don't know. He was on his way to the privy, that's all I know. And whoever did it almost took his head right off. Willy heard somebody mention something about his cousin being the one that found the body, isn't that right, Willy?"

  His cousin! Seneca? I immediately began to wonder if I might have located the missing Procurator, and the thought did not seem far-fetched. Nesca might well have provided his wealthy cousin with a hiding place, a safe retreat to wait out the fortunes of Magnus in his bid for the Empire. And then I made an intuitive leap. If there had been ill-feeling between them, if bad blood had developed, Seneca might have perceived a way to get rid of his fat cousin and foist the blame onto the same crippled assassin who had tried to kill him once before. It was pure supposition on my part, but it made grim sense.

  We had no difficulties on the road, and we were back in the Colony two days later. Caius listened carefully to the tale I had to tell him, shook his head regretfully over the idiocy and pettiness of men and then dismissed the topic and told me about the strange embassy he had received from Ullic, the High Chief of the local Pendragon Celts. He seemed to put no credence at all in my theory concerning the killing of Nesca and the whereabouts of Claudius Seneca, discounting it as pure conjecture, irrelevant and unimportant beside his own news. I can recall being hurt and angered by his indifference to my report and my suspicions. At the same time, however, I was able to recognize the importance of the embassage from Ullic and to acknowledge that there might be good reason for the evident excitement it had caused during my absence. Just after I had left for Aquae Sulis, Cymric and his brother, my arrow-flighting friend, had approached Caius formally on behalf of their Chief, Ullic Pendragon. Ullic, they said, wanted to meet with Caius to discuss matters of mutual interest. This was a great honour, Cymric had added, since never before had a Pendragon Chief had truck with any Roman.

  Intrigued, Caius had naturally invited the Chief to be his guest in the Colony, but this was not acceptable at all. The meeting, he was told, must be a formal one held in a holy place. Caius had asked where that might be, and was told Stonehenge.

  Of course, I knew where Stonehenge was. It is an open temple, sacred to the Druids, ancient as time itself, and it stands, or rather its ruins stand, on the highest ground of the great plain south of us, more than a day's march from the villa. Caius had demurred at first at having to go so far, but Luceiia, who was with him at the time, was wise enough to convince him to agree to the meeting. He had asked what kind of escort he was permitted to bring to such a formal meeting, and had been told that Ullic would be accompanied by his Druids and by a warrior escort, so it would be in order for Caius to bring an escort of his own.

  Caius had been insistent on postponing the meeting until I could accompany him, and had set it two weeks away; that meant six days from the day I should have returned from Aquae Sulis. The prospect of meeting the Celtic chieftain interested me, but I was still preoccupied with the reappearance of the Seneca clan in my life. I tried again to interest Caius in my theory on Seneca and his whereabouts, but I could see it was a waste of time. He was completely engrossed in planning for the upcoming meeting, and he had so many things on his mind that he could not allow himself to be distracted by a Seneca who was not an immediate source of danger.

  For me, however, the reverse was true. I could have no interest in meeting a Celtic savage when my arch-enemy might be within reach of my vengeance. Disappointed and slightly angered by Caius's lack of interest, I decided to take steps of my own to deal with the possibility that Seneca might be in Aquae Sulis. I made my arrangements and mentioned none of them to either Caius or my wife, both of whom, I knew, would have disagreed wholeheartedly with what I proposed to do. In my arrogance and anger I fear I lost sight, as I often did, of the possibility of repercussions from my own rash actions. Secure in my righteousness, I breathed new life into an old hatred and started a chain of events that would haunt me and mine years later.

  XXX
I

  Five days later, Equus brought Tertius Pella to see me. I was at work at the place behind the villa where we had built the furnace to smelt the metal from the skystone. When they arrived, I was working with the special clay we intended to use as a liner for the fire-box, and while I washed the stuff from my hands and dried them on a rag, Equus entertained Tertius with a description of what we were hoping to achieve with the new kiln. At length, my hands clean and dry, I took off my leather apron and welcomed Tertius. It was a hot, dusty, sunny day, and Equus poured each of us a mug of cool beer from the supply he always seemed to have at hand, stored out of the way of the sun's heat. As we drank the first, deep draught, I examined Tertius Pella again, confirming my original opinion of him.

  He was a tall man, well set-up, as the local Celts say, in his late thirties, with broad shoulders and a waist that was just beginning to thicken, where most men of his age were already pot-bellied with overeating. His dark, saturnine face, with its eyes surrounded by deep creases, showed his years of squinting against the sun's glare off the ocean, for Tertius Pella was a true navy man, a soldier who had lived on water for most of his years with the Eagles. I had already learned that he was strong and shrewd and solid, dependable as one of his beloved quadriremes, and the jut of his chin was reminiscent of the ramming beaks of those same vessels.

  "Well, " I asked him, "what did you find?" He grinned, a vulpine grin with no humour in it. "What I went to find. He's there all right, in a townhouse rented for the year by the unlamented lard-sack, Nesca. "

  "You saw him?" I needed to be sure.

  "Aye, once. Only for a few moments, but it was enough and more. He came to an open portal, less than fifteen paces from where I stood. No possibility of error— it was him. Caesarius Claudius Seneca, Senator of Rome and Procurator of South Britain, hiding from the sunlight in a darkened house. That's appropriate enough, come to think of it. God, I wish I'd had a bow in my hand! I could have slipped an arrow into either of his eyes so fast —"