by Jane Finnis
I went in search of Albia, and found her in the kitchen organising breakfast. “Holy Diana, Relia, you look as sick as Cousin Quintus! Is he any better?”
“He woke up for a short while, but he’s passed out again. He was fretting about some eclipse of the sun that happened two days ago. Only we missed it.”
“Yes, Junius was telling me about it. Shame it was cloudy. Junius says it would have been quite dramatic. He knows all about the stars.” She smiled fondly. Gods, I thought, she’s really got it badly for that young man. Oh well, she’s a big girl now.
She helped me change Quintus’ blankets, and dress him in a fresh tunic. He didn’t stir, and his breathing was still uneven and noisy. I found Baca and told her to take up sick-room watching again for the morning. The pile of mending in the sewing basket was going down nicely.
I went and unbarred the main door. No golden dawn today, and no inert body on the forecourt either; just a mist with a clammy drizzle in it, and under the oak-tree the comforting, bulky figure of Taurus on watch.
“’Morning, Taurus,” I called. “All well?”
“All fine, Mistress.” He shook his wet cloak as he came towards me. “Nothing and nobody stirring anywhere.”
He was right, there wasn’t a single person or vehicle on the main road. It wasn’t a market day, so there’d be much less early traffic. The first two couriers came through just after breakfast, heading for the coast. Unusually they were riding together instead of racing each other for a bet, which is the normal messengers’ game. We soon discovered why: there had been two more murders overnight.
A headless body had been found in the forum before first light; another, headless also, had been discovered outside town on the road near Silvanius’ new villa. Both carried bone discs with their sinister message.
“Get out or die….You know yesterday,” I said to Albia, “that was just a wild threat, unpleasant but not seriously believable. Now it starts to feel real.”
“I know.” Her usually cheerful face looked grim. “Are we going to wake up every morning to find more and more of our people killed?”
“I wish I could answer no, but…it’s scary.”
“Yes, it is. But whoever the bastards are, Relia, they’re not getting me out. I belong here, and I’m staying.”
“So am I. Father brought us here to give us a chance of a good life, a stake in a new province. We’ve worked hard for those things. We’re not giving them up. We’re Romans, and Romans can’t be frightened off by a pack of barbarians.”
Brave words, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The next traveller to come by with news, a wagoner, told us both the victims had been identified. The one in the forum was Gaius Terentius, the innkeeper of the Kingfisher Mansio in Eburacum. He’d been in Oak Bridges visiting friends, and was caught on his way home. It hit us like a physical blow. I mean all the murders were horrible, but the death of another mansio keeper, a friend, someone we knew well, and a Roman from Italia, made me feel close to panic.
The tribunes’ mood was sour too, because the other victim was an old soldier, retired and settled near town on a smallholding. But though it sounds dreadful, I was almost relieved to hear about it. Now, I thought, the army will take some notice, and start patrolling the district properly.
Hippon came to see me. I noticed he was limping slightly; hard knocks were an occasional part of his job as a horse-trainer. He was grumbling because some harness that was being made up for us in town hadn’t been delivered. “It was promised last month, and we do need it. I ought to go in myself and give the fellow a piece of my mind. I think I’ll take the small carriage, then I can bring back whatever he’s got ready. If anything.”
Normally he’d prefer to ride. I looked him up and down. “What is it? Feeling under the weather?”
“No fooling you, is there? I bruised my leg, coming off the black stallion with a thump yesterday. That animal can be a real bastard.” His words were softened by his smile; I don’t think there ever was a horse he couldn’t love. He rubbed his left knee gingerly. “I’m getting too old for this job, Aurelia.”
“Nonsense! But take the raeda, by all means. You could try out those new ponies you were training yesterday. They look about ready for some road-work.”
He cheered up at once; he always enjoys training horses. “Yes, I will. And I think I’ll take young Victor along, and give him a try as driver. See if he’s as good as he says he is.”
“If he’s that good, then I’m the Queen of Brigantia!”
Hippon smiled. “The best ones tend to be cocky at his age. Don’t worry, I’ll keep a good eye. We’ll be off in about an hour, when the morning chores are done.”
As he left us, little Baca came scurrying in, all smiles. “Mistress, the man in the bed is awake again, and he’s got his wits back. I asked him if he felt better, and he said yes, and I said I hoped so, because then he wouldn’t be so grumpy today.”
“That wasn’t very polite to a guest, Baca.”
“That’s what he said,” she nodded, “but in a sort of smiley way.”
Quintus was still smiling when I got to his room, and his smile widened when he saw me.
“Aurelia!” he exclaimed. “Aurelia Marcella. It is you, isn’t it? I’ve had some weird dreams, with practically everybody I know appearing in them. But you’re real, aren’t you?”
“I’m real, Quintus Antonius, and I’m delighted you’re back to your proper self again. You’ve given us all quite a fright.”
He looked at me sharply. “Why do you call me that? Quintus Antonius…that’s not my name.”
“But…oh, I’m sorry.” I must tread carefully here. “My sister recognised you, or thought she did. She was sure she’d met you before, but she must be mistaken.” Well, I could hardly tell him I’d seen his high-powered official papers, after he’d made such a song and dance about keeping them secret. “What is your name, then?”
“I’m Quintus Valerius Longinus.” He sat up and held out his hand. “And I’m afraid I’ve been poor company so far. According to your little sewing-girl, anyway.”
I took his hand. “Never mind, I’m delighted to meet you. And I’m sorry you’ve had a rather rough welcome to the Oak Tree. How do you feel now?”
“I’ve felt better, but I’m on the mend. Could I possibly have a drink of water? I’ve got a thirst like a camel, and this jug’s empty.”
I fetched him some and he drank thirstily. Then he asked for a cloth, and rubbed his face with it, going carefully as he touched the bruises.
“Ouch! I seem to have been in a bit of a scrap.”
“I expect you gave as good as you got.”
“I hope so.” He stretched his arms above his head, and smiled again. “I still ache all over, but I’m feeling decidedly better. I wonder….If I remember rightly, Lucius said you have a bath-house here.”
“Yes, we have. You’ve met my brother, then. Is that why you’re here? Did Lucius send you?”
“Not directly. But he’s talked about you often. And this place. I was on my way here when we were attacked.”
“If you’re a friend of Lucius, are you a friend of Aunt Julia as well, by any chance?” I asked.
“Aunt Julia? No. The only one of Lucius’ relatives I’ve ever met is his Uncle Paullus from Cyprus.”
“Oh well, never mind. Now, before your bath, would you like some breakfast? Bread and honey, and some wine?”
“Wonderful. I could eat a horse.”
“Or an elephant?” I suggested.
“I think I’ll just stick to bread and honey.”
So he hadn’t picked up the identification code. Did that mean he wasn’t the man Lucius had mentioned in his letter, or was it just the effect of his bang on the head?
As I crossed the courtyard to the kitchen, Taurus appeared through the back archway. “Is he better, Mistress? The man who was under the tree?”
“Yes, he is. Awake and asking for breakf
ast.”
“That’s good.” He gave his slow smile. “You were worried for him.”
“Well, of course I’d worry about a wounded guest, Taurus.”
“’Course you would.” He winked. He may be simple, but he’s not stupid.
Quintus ate hungrily while I repeated the story of how I’d found him, and showed him the bone disc that had been pinned to his tunic.
“I remember Burrus and I were riding along quite fast,” he said between mouthfuls. “We’d got held up crossing the Humber, so it was pretty well dark. But we knew we must be nearly at the Oak Tree. Then we saw a soldier lying in the road, and another soldier with him, who waved and shouted for help. So naturally we stopped. Then they attacked us, and three more men came to help them. We tried to fight them off, but….After that it’s a bit confused.”
“Soldiers attacked you?”
“I doubt if they were real ones. It’s easy to look like a soldier, given the right clothes and weapons.”
I told him what Hawk had pieced together about the fight, and about his dead horse and his companion galloping off.
“Good! That must mean Burrus got clear. I expect he’s out somewhere looking for me.”
“You said he was a German, with a snake tattoo?”
“Yes, he is…but you just said ‘he was.’ What’s happened?” He looked at me keenly. Oh, me and my big mouth!
I told him as gently as I could about the body found in the forum. It upset him more than I’d expected.
“Poor Burrus! He was almost at the end of his army time. This was his last assignment. A good man, brave and sensible. When he got out, he was going back to the Rhine, to his parents. He used to tell me about their farm, and the girl who was waiting for him.” His jaw set. “D’you know, I mind about them killing Burrus more than I mind about them attacking me. After all, I chose this lousy job. Burrus just went where he was told. Well, I’ll have those bastards, Aurelia. I’ll have the lot of them!”
“Good.” The only way I could think of to comfort him was to change the subject, so I asked if he’d heard of the Shadow-men, and their leader, the Shadow of Death.
He nodded. “We’ve heard of them, and we’re taking them seriously. The Shadow of Death is a good rebel commander. Far too good, from our point of view. He’s also something of a mystery man. They say he wears a mask.”
“A mask? You mentioned something yesterday about one of the attackers wearing a mask.”
“Did I? Why yes, I remember now….A gruesome-looking thing, like a skull with empty eyes. He just stood there, but I got the impression somehow he was the leader, and the others were carrying out his orders, even though he didn’t say anything. So that was the Shadow of Death? Well, his shadow wasn’t long enough to swallow me!”
By this time he’d drunk his mug of wine and eaten two large pieces of bread and honey and a handful of plums. He sighed contentedly, and lay back on the pillows.
“I really do need a bath,” he said almost dreamily. “When will the water be hot?”
“In an hour or so. I’ve told Taurus to make sure the stoker gets a move on, but it’ll take a while. We don’t keep the furnace going all night in the summer.”
Taurus himself appeared just then, leaning his huge dark head and massive shoulders in through the door.
“Sorry to intrude, Mistress, but Miss Albia sent me. There are two military investigators in the bar, asking to see this gentleman. From Eburacum. They say they’re looking into all these attacks and murders and they want to talk to him urgently. Miss Albia says, should she send them in here?”
“Yes, Taurus, tell her….”
“No, wait!” Quintus interrupted. “What do they look like?”
“Look like?” Taurus said, surprised. “Well…just ordinary army investigators.”
“But their appearance? Tall—short—describe them!”
He thought about it. “The one in charge is small with black hair and a scar on his hand. The other one is tall and his hair is sort of mousey.”
“That settles it,” Quintus snapped. “I can’t see them.” His whole body had tensed up, for all the world as if he was going to make a run for it. “That is, I can’t let them see me.”
I was taken aback. “Why ever not? I’d have thought you’d be glad enough if someone catches the gang who beat you up.”
“Those two have been following me. Because—well, never mind why.” He turned to Taurus. “Tell them I’m asleep. Still unconscious, and too ill to be disturbed.”
Taurus shook his head. “I can’t, sir.”
I wondered if Quintus was losing his grip again. But no, the blue-purple eyes were bright, alert, and hard.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked him.
“Quite sure.” He looked at Taurus. “Do as I say. Tell them I’m unconscious, and get rid of them.”
Again the slave shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve already told them you’re awake.”
“Merda,” Quintus swore. “What did you do that for?”
“I didn’t know it was a secret,” Taurus protested, looking miserable. “The Mistress told me that you were better. She was pleased about it. We all were. So when the men came asking, I thought they’d be pleased too.”
“It’s all right, Taurus, you weren’t to know,” I put in. “And we can soon….”
“Did you tell them my name?” Quintus barked.
“I don’t know your name, sir. But they knew it anyway. They said you’re Quintus Antonius Delfinus. I said I didn’t know.”
Quintus swore again, but I waved him quiet. I couldn’t work out what was going on here, but clearly we needed a bit of time, so I could get to the bottom of Quintus’ extraordinary reaction. Taurus could take a message to delay the military agents; he isn’t over-bright, but he’s as solid as a rock if you know how to explain things to him.
“Taurus, look. This gentleman is a friend of Master Lucius, and he needs our help.”
“A friend of the master’s? Ah, that’s different.”
“So we need to keep the investigators away for the time being. You know what the army can be like. They could make all sorts of trouble for him. And for Lucius as well,” I added. Taurus nodded in understanding; this was familiar ground. “So go back and say he’s too ill to see anybody.”
“But I’ve already told them….”
“I know, but it’ll be all right. You can say that the gentleman’s passed out again. Say that he woke up, and tried to get up and was dizzy and flopped back into bed, and now he’s asleep. It’s all true, except for the last bit. He did pass out, when he tried to get out of bed earlier on. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did,” Quintus said grumpily.
“All right, Taurus. You do that, and then get back to work. I’ll come and talk to them very soon.”
Taurus grinned suddenly. “It’s like when Master Lucius comes home. We have to be careful who we tell.”
“You’ve got it. Now off you go. Don’t let’s keep them waiting.”
Quintus looked doubtfully after him. “Is he reliable?”
“Completely, yes. He’s a simple man, not good at lying unless he sees the reason for it. Sometimes I think the world would be better if we were all as truthful as Taurus.”
“Ouch! That puts me in my place. Deception’s an important part of my job.”
“No, really?” I went and shut the bedroom door, and leaned my back against it. “Now I’m not leaving till you tell me why you don’t want these men to see you.”
“I told you already. They’ve been following me.”
“That could mean you’re a criminal. In which case my duty is to hand you over. You’ve got to understand, this is an official mansio here. I’m not under military orders exactly, but if I refuse to help the military…well, it could be awkward.”
He sighed. “All right. I’m on an unofficial job for the Governor. Unofficial, and very secret.”
&n
bsp; “As revelations go, that’s hardly earth-shaking. Are you hunting these Shadow-men?”
“No. Yes. Well, yes and no.”
“Thanks for such a clear answer!” I looked at him for a few heartbeats, but his purple-blue eyes gave nothing away. I felt distinctly uneasy. What possible reason could he have for avoiding military investigators? Didn’t he want them to catch the men who had nearly killed him, and had presumably killed Burrus? I could only think of one good answer. He wasn’t, as he claimed to be, an investigator hunting criminals. He was a criminal, being hunted himself.
My brain told me to be cautious, not to take him at face value. And yet my instinct said he was no criminal, and I should help him. Usually with me, instinct wins out over caution. But still….
“I’ll give you one more chance to explain,” I said. “I’m from an army family, which means I’ve no great love for military investigators, but before I refuse outright to help them, I need to know why. Perhaps I’m like Taurus. I don’t like lying unless I see the need for it.”
“Military bureaucracy,” he said. “It gets in the way in a case like this. I’m in their territory but they haven’t been notified, and that’ll upset them. They’ll want me to do things their way, and I’ll be writing reports and giving them briefings for days. I simply haven’t got time for all that.”
“Which, as our grandmother would have said, is a load of round objects! If your mission is so secret, how come they know you’re here—they even know your name?”
“They don’t. My name’s Quintus Valerius Longinus.”
“More round objects. Balls, in plain Latin! I told you, my sister recognised you as Quintus Antonius Delfinus. So let’s stop playing games, or I’ll fetch those investigators in here now.”
He gave me a hard stare, which I returned. I felt both confused and annoyed. Was any part of his explanation remotely true? He claimed to be working for the Governor, so why couldn’t he use one of his all-powerful government passes? He said he knew Lucius, but he hadn’t recognised the identification signal. And now he was being pursued by military agents….
