by Brown, Nick
‘That doesn’t matter. I need information.’
‘About what?’
‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’
Eborius rubbed his eyes, then sighed. ‘This way.’
Cassius returned the spearhead to Simo and they followed the officer along the alley and across the next street. To the left, it ran down as far as the old wall; beyond lay the marsh and a broad expanse of beach. Halfway along the next alley they came to a low, arched doorway and Cassius followed Eborius into what had clearly once been a small temple. Lying in one corner was the top half of a statue carved from some inferior stone. It was identifiable only by the owl cupped in one scarred hand – the goddess Minerva. In the opposite corner was the base of an altar, upon which Eborius sat. As Simo and Indavara followed him inside, Cassius offered his forearm. ‘Officer Cassius Quintius Corbulo.’
The older man looked up at him, then took his arm. ‘Manius Eborius.’
‘Centurion?’
Eborius gave a weary nod.
Cassius took his canteen from his belt. ‘Water?’
Eborius drank most of the contents then gave it back. Everything about him was big. Big head, big face, big shoulders, big arms and legs, but every part well formed and in proportion.
Cassius leant back against an ivy-covered wall. ‘I’m after a man who calls himself Dio. Short, left-handed. Ring any bells?’
‘No.’
‘I believe he arrived this morning aboard that ship the Isis.’
‘I heard she came in. Unless it’s a supply ship, no one takes much notice these days.’
‘I need to find him quickly,’ said Cassius. ‘If he did get off, he may have left the town. What about the governor’s office? Does anyone there keep track of new arrivals?’
Eborius snorted. ‘Did anyone come and meet you?’
‘I take it that order has rather broken down here.’
‘You could say that. Though I suppose there is order. Of a kind.’
‘That other officer’s kind? Who is he?’
‘Centurion Valgus Carnifex.’
‘I may need his help. Can you take me to him?’
‘That would be difficult. He and I are not on the best of terms.’
‘I see. It seems I shall just have to start asking around then.’
Eborius frowned. ‘I would advise against that.’
‘I don’t seem to have a great deal of choice. Somebody might have seen the man, might know him. Every hour counts. He may already be gone.’
‘Gone? Gone where? Travel more than ten miles in any direction and you’re liable to find yourself face to face with a band of Maseene.’
‘Maseene?’
‘Local tribesmen. They’ve recently taken to attacking anyone they come across who doesn’t speak and look like them.’
‘The army has lost control of the area?’
‘Not Darnis and its immediate surroundings. But beyond that … let’s just say your short friend is unlikely to have set off for anywhere, unless he’s anxious to meet his end at the point of a javelin.’
‘I haven’t heard of any uprisings in this area.’
‘I’m fairly sure nobody on the other side of the Green Sea has heard anything from Darnis in a while.’ Eborius kicked a lump of rock into the wall. ‘Which is exactly how certain people want it to stay.’
‘If you’re so convinced he wouldn’t have left, then there’s all the more reason to think someone here will know something. Where do you suggest I start?’
‘Have you been listening to me? The situation here is complicated and you are a stranger. You could easily run into trouble blundering around unescorted. And Carnifex would soon hear of it.’
‘So? He is bound by law to assist me.’
Eborius almost laughed at this. ‘He is bound by nothing but his one and only interest: maintaining and protecting the profitable little empire he has carved out for himself here. I suggest you keep quiet about your true identity and leave in the morning.’
‘That’s not possible.’
‘What has he done anyway, this man you seek?’
‘He is an assassin.’
‘Who did he kill?’
Cassius wondered if he hadn’t already told Eborius too much. But the centurion had in turn revealed plenty himself, and it seemed unlikely he would cooperate unless he knew the true importance of the investigation.
‘The Deputy Commander of the Service. On Rhodes, a week ago. Now do you understand why I cannot just turn round and leave?’
Eborius considered this for a moment. ‘How many men do you have with you?’
Cassius gestured to Indavara and Simo.
‘Why so few? If you’re engaged in such an important mission.’
‘Let’s just say it was all rather rushed. In any case, if I’d arrived with a squad of men in tow, we’d never find Dio, would we? From what you’ve said I doubt this Carnifex will allow me to requisition his troops, so I appear to have only one source of help.’
Eborius’s face tightened and he scratched the back of his neck.
‘His name was Augustus Marius Memor,’ Cassius continued. ‘He was beheaded. In his study. He had a wife and two daughters. The oldest girl is on the ship.’
Eborius said nothing, but Cassius didn’t mind that. The centurion seemed to have accepted he was duty-bound to assist, and judging by his face, the emotive tugs had done their job.
‘What about your century – your men?’ asked Cassius.
‘If you followed me from the square you would have seen most of them. At the tavern.’
‘What?’
‘Long story.’
Eborius glanced at the elongated shadows on the cracked tiled floor of the temple. ‘We haven’t much light left. Let me make a few enquiries.’
‘And then?’
‘I’ll come down to the causeway at the third hour of night. Wait for me by the arch. Is there any other information on the man?’
Eborius actually seemed to have sobered up during the conversation, but Cassius repeated all the details he knew twice. He also told him about the cover story and the damage to the Fortuna.
‘Will the captain be able to make his repairs here?’
Eborius held up a hand. ‘One thing at a time. That can wait until tomorrow. Keep all the men on the ship for now.’
‘As you wish. Thank you for your help.’
‘My pleasure,’ said Eborius unconvincingly. ‘What was your name again?’
They arrived back at the Fortuna to find the ceremony of arrival had just concluded. The crew were gathered on the deck in good spirits, readying themselves for a night in Darnis. Cassius found Asdribar at the stern, gazing out to sea. One altar was still slick with blood from one of the cockerels, and feathers littered the deck. Smoke was rising from the galley and drifting out over the harbour.
‘Captain, you need to speak with your men. I’m afraid they can’t visit the town tonight.’
‘I hope that’s a joke.’
Asdribar only relented once Cassius told him what he’d seen and heard.
‘Gods,’ said the Carthaginian. ‘I’ll need another sacrifice to keep the boys happy – a barrel of the Rhodian stuff.’
‘Aside from the dangers of the town, it’s essential that our real purpose here not be revealed. I know you’ve briefed your men but we both know how drink can loosen tongues.’
‘We’ll have to go in at some point,’ said Asdribar. ‘We need timber for the new yard. This centurion – perhaps I might speak with him too?’
‘I don’t see why not.’
Asdribar sighed. ‘I’ll go and break the news then. If you hear a splash, grab a boathook – because they might just throw me over the side.’
In fact, the crew’s voluble protests lasted about as long as it took Asdribar to open the barrel of cinnamon wine. They swiftly relocated to the smoky warmth of the galley and were soon throwing insults at each other and bellowing songs.
‘By Jupiter,’ said
Cassius as Simo draped his cloak over his shoulders, ‘I hope this doesn’t go on all night.’
‘Would you like me to come along to this meeting, sir?’
‘No, you can stay here.’
‘Me too?’ asked Indavara, leaning against the door frame.
‘Yes. I shan’t be long and Asdribar’s accompanying me.’
Korinth wove his way out of the galley with a jug in his hand. ‘There you are!’ he bawled. ‘Come and have a drink with the lads.’
Before Indavara could protest, Korinth had grabbed him and dragged him into the galley. For a moment Cassius thought Indavara might take exception to this but a cheer went up when the others saw him. Cassius walked into the passageway and looked on; Indavara was grinning as the sailors made space for him by the hearth.
Korinth turned round, eyes struggling to focus. ‘And you, sir?’
‘A tempting invitation but no thanks.’
Korinth turned his attentions to Simo. The Gaul tried to retreat into the cabin but the big sailor came after him too. ‘Come on, lad!’
‘No, thank you, I really would—’
Cassius laughed as Korinth hauled Simo out of the cabin by his belt, then pushed him into the galley.
‘Go on, Simo! It’ll do you good.’
Asdribar was waiting up on deck. He too had his cloak wrapped round him and was carrying a lantern. Cassius gestured towards the gangplank. As he followed the captain, the deckhouse door opened.
‘Officer Corbulo?’ said Annia with an appeasing smile.
‘Yes?’
Cassius had already given her a brief – and judiciously edited – report of the afternoon’s events.
‘You will let me know if you learn anything more?’
‘I said I would, miss.’
‘Thank you.’
Cassius looked for a glimpse of Clara, but Annia closed the door.
‘Bloody girl,’ Cassius muttered as he crossed the gangplank and joined Asdribar on the breakwater.
Apart from the fact that he had plenty else to occupy him, he had decided to forgo any further pursuit of Annia, and not only because of his new-found interest in Clara. He had simply reached the conclusion that she didn’t find him attractive. This didn’t happen often – and was initially rather frustrating – but he now found he hardly cared. Cassius had never understood those fellows who pursued unrequited interest. If a woman didn’t like him, he found he soon ceased to like her. Let Indavara try his hand if he wished. Good luck to him.
‘I’ve seen some shithole harbours in my time,’ said Asdribar, ‘but this one barely deserves the name.’
Even with the powerful lantern, negotiating the ageing breakwater in the dark was quite a challenge.
‘The rest of the town’s no better,’ replied Cassius. ‘Ruins and empty buildings everywhere. It seems the earthquake pretty much killed the place off but it looks like a long, slow death.’
As they crossed the causeway, a light rain began to fall, pattering against the stone and the drier patches of the marsh. Asdribar pulled up his hood but Cassius kept his down – he didn’t want to restrict either his hearing or his vision. There was no sign of Eborius at the arch. They looked along the road towards the town; there were only a few smudges of light and not a sound to be heard.
‘It really is dead,’ observed Asdribar. Just as he was about to sit down on the wall, they heard the rustling of feet moving through grass. A big shape appeared from behind the standing side of the arch.
‘It’s me,’ came the rich, deep voice. Eborius scowled as Asdribar held the lantern up to his face. ‘Who are you?’
‘This is Asdribar,’ replied Cassius, ‘captain of the ship. He wanted to speak with you too.’
The scowl remained.
‘How did you get on?’ asked Cassius.
‘A few people saw the Isis come in. A few people saw the crew walk into town and buy some supplies. And a few people saw them cast off again two hours later. No one saw or heard anything about a passenger.’
Cassius blew out his cheeks. ‘Wonderful.’
‘Of course that doesn’t mean nobody else came ashore. It wouldn’t be difficult to slip into town unnoticed if you were trying to avoid attention.’
The rain was getting harder. Eborius and Cassius pulled up their hoods.
‘Tell me,’ said Cassius. ‘I’ve seen the state of the forum, but what about the rest of the administrative buildings? Is there anywhere with records on the population?’
‘I think documents like that were moved to the library, though I doubt anyone’s looked at them in a while.’
‘Could you get me access to them?’
‘Probably. I—’
‘Gentlemen,’ interjected Asdribar as water dripped from his hood past his face. ‘There is a dry and warm ship just a few moments’ walk away. Can I suggest we adjourn there?’
Cassius turned to Eborius. ‘Well?’
The big centurion shrugged.
‘Tell me, sir,’ said Asdribar warmly. ‘Have you ever sampled the delights of Rhodian cinnamon wine?’
While Asdribar escorted Eborius below, Cassius called in on Annia. She would inevitably find out about the centurion’s visit, so he thought he might as well invite her along. Clara opened the deckhouse door but Cassius only had time to smile before Annia appeared. She snatched a shawl from Clara and followed Cassius to the hatch.
‘So we’re still not even sure if Dio got off here?’ she asked.
‘No. But all the crew of the Isis did was buy some provisions – only three days after leaving Crete, which is suspicious in itself. I’ve nothing definitive yet but I’m sure this man can help us.’
With the raucous goings-on in the galley, Asdribar had placed four stools in a circle just beyond the steps. Just as Cassius and Annia arrived, Opilio appeared carrying a small brazier. Behind him came Tarkel and Desenna, who placed some bricks on the floor for Opilio to mount the brazier on. Inside was a pile of glowing coals giving off plenty of heat. As the galley crew left, Asdribar issued more orders. ‘Opilio – those Syrian glasses, and bring us something to eat.’
Centurion Eborius seemed rather surprised to be in the presence of a young lady and nodded shyly when Cassius introduced Annia. Asdribar encouraged them all to sit down, then poured three good measures from a jug of the cinnamon wine when Opilio returned with the glasses. Annia refused the offer of a drink. Opilio had also brought two bowls, one full of dates, one full of almonds.
‘There, Centurion,’ said Asdribar. ‘A bit of Fortuna hospitality for you.’
Eborius raised his glass. ‘That’s her name?’
‘Fortuna Redux.’
‘I hope that proves prophetic.’
‘These records at the library you mentioned,’ said Cassius. ‘Any idea what’s there?’
‘Perhaps tax documentation. Although that might be kept at the mansion now.’
‘The mansion?’
‘Big villa overlooking the plain just south of Darnis. Used to belong to the Gratus family but when they left Carnifex took it over.’
‘There’s no barracks in the town?’
‘There is. My century – the Second – uses it.’
‘Is Carnifex’s century as undermanned as yours?’
Eborius gave a grim smile. ‘Oh no. The First now has about a hundred and forty men.’
‘But you have—’
‘Thirty-seven.’ Eborius shook his head. ‘Gods, it all sounds so bizarre now I hear myself speak of it. I suppose I’ve become used to the way things are here.’ He looked around at the others. ‘Perhaps I should explain. It will all seem even stranger if I don’t.’
‘Please,’ said Cassius.
Eborius took a long swig of wine before beginning. ‘You know about the earthquake, of course.’
‘Ten years back, wasn’t it?’ said Asdribar.
‘That was to the west. Hit the Five Cities badly. We felt it here, but no, the one that struck close to Darnis was just five years ago
. Knocked all the big buildings down, ruined the aqueduct, killed several hundred. Things had been good here before. There have always been two centuries: the First and the Second. Theoretically, they’re attached to the Third Augustan Legion, but they’ve been stationed here for decades – to protect the coast road and the estates. The centurion of the First was always considered the senior man. His name was Donicus – he’d been here almost twenty years. He was overseeing a detachment working on the sewers when the earthquake hit. He was killed. Crushed. A few weeks later his replacement arrived.’
‘Carnifex?’ said Cassius.
‘Carnifex.’
Resting his elbows on his knees, Eborius hunched over, staring at the glowing coals of the brazier. ‘The main problem was the aqueduct – it runs fifty miles from the interior into the west side of Darnis. There are no rivers here, so the water that supplied the whole area came from a system of barrages and cisterns. The Maseene are nomads – they move with the season, with their animals. When Rome first settled this territory centuries ago, they lost much of their best grazing land. Initially there were conflicts but eventually a compromise emerged; the building of the aqueduct allowed the creation of a series of wells and reservoirs to help them water their animals.’
‘But without the aqueduct …’ said Cassius.
‘Even then the situation could have been salvaged – if Carnifex had put all our manpower into the works and the governor had secured the engineers and money we needed. His name was Mordanticus – ineffective and corrupt but Donicus had always kept his worst excesses in check. Mordanticus and Carnifex together were a disastrous combination. With the water supply gone, it was only a matter of time.’
Eborius shook his head and took a breath. ‘I tried to arbitrate between the Maseene elders and Mordanticus, but he wasn’t interested in helping them. Carnifex told him he didn’t have to; said he could take care of them. Then, about two years ago, the raids started. There’d always been the odd problem – stolen livestock and so on – but all pretty small in scale. Then one estate lost a whole herd of goats and the landowner retaliated by fouling the nearest tribe’s well. From there things escalated. Again, if Carnifex and Mordanticus had been minded to negotiate, some sort of agreement might have been possible, but they always just backed the landowners. The raids got worse. Some of the richer families – those with the biggest estates – had left after the earthquake. And once it became obvious they weren’t safe, the rest began to leave too. Then Mordanticus and Carnifex realised they could actually benefit from the situation. There was no hope for the southern estates, all that territory is in Maseene hands now, but those that border Darnis – those could be protected. So Mordanticus and Carnifex began buying them up. Now each estate is nominally run by retired men from the First Century. All done in the name of Rome of course. It’s incredibly inefficient – I doubt the whole territory produces a tenth of what it once did – but Carnifex controls thousands of acres and creams off the profits for himself.’
