Danger in the Wind

by Jane Finnis

  “You hope.” She smiled. “And I hope too.”

  “I’ll manage somehow. I’m determined to go, and if I can’t make him see sense and I have to leave before the party, at least I’ll have done my best for Jovina.”

  “Is Vitellia going with you, or does she want to come back to the farm with me? She’s welcome, if she’d rather do that. She seems a nice girl, a bit young, but no harm in her, and if she’s going to be one of the family I’d like to get to know her better.”

  “Thanks, she’d probably much prefer to be with you, but I haven’t actually broached the subject yet.”

  “Nor told her you’ve quarrelled with Lucius, presumably?”

  “I didn’t want to upset her. You won’t say anything, will you?”

  “What do you think? And maybe the thought of seeing Lucius very soon will make her want to tag along with you to Isurium.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll ask her tonight.”

  Dinner was an excellent meal, roast kid in a damson sauce with cabbage, and some baked custard to follow. Vitellia was full of what she’d seen on her walk, and we all chatted happily about tomorrow’s shopping. Afterwards when we were finishing the last of the good Gaulish red wine I’d brought from the Oak Tree, I raised the subject of Jovina’s party and my trip to Isurium.

  Vitellia took it in her stride. “Baca said you were planning to go to a party, and I saw the size of your travelling chest.” She smiled. “Would your cousin mind if I came with you? I’ve brought a tunic that I can wear to a party.”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t. But are you certain? I mean it’s a long way, and you won’t know anyone there.”

  “I’ll know Lucius, and he must be there by now, mustn’t he? He was hoping he’d only be kept for a day or two and then he’d go straight back to the Oak Tree. But he hasn’t got back so far, which means they must have sent him up north to Isurium to investigate there. So I’d like to come with you, please, Aurelia. That way I’ll see him again sooner.”

  I cursed inwardly, but I couldn’t fault her logic. “All right. One condition though, and it’s important. You know what Lucius’ work is, don’t you?”

  “Not really. He’s told me he’s an investigator, but he doesn’t talk about his assignments, because they’re secret.”

  “Good. And we must keep them secret. If we meet him at Isurium, or some other officer who’s interested in his case, we mustn’t admit we know anything about it at all.”

  “We don’t, do we?”

  I controlled my exasperation. “Not much. But remember that dead soldier at the mansio? He was travelling to Isurium. If anyone asks us about him we’ll just say he was killed by his slave, who ran away, and that’s all we know.”

  “It is all we know. You don’t need to worry, Aurelia. I can say I know nothing about what Lucius is doing, because it’s true.”

  “Good. So if my brother hasn’t appeared by tomorrow night, you’ll leave with me for Isurium the day after.”

  “Yes, please. But we’ve got a whole day at the market first, haven’t we?”

  Crotus knocked and came in. “There’s a package arrived for Mistress Aurelia.”

  “For me? It can’t be. Nobody knows I’m here.”

  “I found it by the door just now, someone had left it there. But it has your name on it, Mistress.” He held out something small and square, wrapped in coarse cloth. My name stood out on a tiny piece of papyrus attached to it.

  I groaned. “Gods, I suppose it’s from the mansio. I haven’t been away for a day yet. You’d think they could manage without me for a few hours!” A sudden alarming thought struck me, and I stopped grumbling and started unwrapping. “I hope there’s nothing wrong.” I hurried to pull the cloth away. What I found inside shocked me so much I almost dropped it.

  It was a small square box made of light wood, with the letters VVV across its lid. The very same box, I’d swear, that Terentius had been carrying and his murderer had stolen from Taurus.

  “Oh, merda! What’s this doing here?” It wasn’t locked, and inside was a small wooden note-tablet. Scrawled on it in black ink was one crudely-written line. “Go back to the Oak Tree now, or you won’t live to go back later. VVV”

  I felt cold in spite of the evening warmth. This package must have been brought here by Terentius’ murderer. The box proved it. Why was he so anxious I shouldn’t go to Isurium?

  Albia’s hand gently touched my shoulder. “What is it, Relia? Not bad news?” I realised I’d been clutching both box and note tight, and put them down on the table. She read the message. “That looks bad.”

  Vitellia glanced at me enquiringly. “What’s happened? Is something wrong at the Oak Tree?”

  “No. But you’d better see this.” I handed her the note. There was no point concealing it from her, in fact it wouldn’t be fair. She was coming up to Isurium with me.

  She looked briefly at the box, then read the message and opened her eyes wide. “Who would write something so horrid?”

  “I think it’s a man called Portius.”

  “Why does he want you to go back to the Oak Tree? Is it something else to do with the dead soldier?”

  “I think so, though I don’t know what. There must be something at Isurium that Portius doesn’t want me to find out.”

  “Will you still go?”

  “Of course I shall.” I made myself smile. “It takes more than a threatening message to keep me away from a good party.”

  “I think you’re very brave,” Vitellia said. “Lucius always says you’re brave.”

  “I think she’s quite mad.” Albia sighed. “I suppose I can’t stop her, if she’s made up her mind. But you don’t need to go, Vitellia, if you’re unhappy about it. You’re very welcome to come back to the farm with me.”

  “I’ll go if Aurelia goes. It takes more than a threatening message to keep me away from my Lucius.”

  “Good girl!” I said, and I meant it, even while I hoped we wouldn’t find Lucius there. Vitellia might not be the brightest child in the world, but she wasn’t a coward.

  Albia smiled. “Oh, well, in that case you’re both mad.” She yawned and stretched. “You know, I think I’m ready for my bed, especially as we’ve an early start in the morning.”

  I felt tired too, but sleep wouldn’t come at first. Questions raced each other round in my brain like chariots in the circus. How had Portius found out I was travelling to Isurium? Why did it matter so much to him? Was there a connection between Terentius, his box, and my cousin’s birthday party?

  I couldn’t answer any of them, and eventually I fell into a troubled sleep. I was glad to see the dawn.

  Chapter IX

  We set off early for the market, taking Brutus as our escort. Baca begged to come too, “to carry all the things you buy.” We were in high spirits as we made our way through the crowded streets.

  Albia wanted cloth to make tunics for herself and the twins. I hadn’t thought about new clothes in a long while, but suddenly the idea seemed appealing. Vitellia announced she could do with a new cloak.

  So we made our leisurely way in the direction of the cloth-merchants, who were mostly clustered together in a small road just off the main market. We took our time, pausing and looking at the displays on the shop counters or on makeshift trestles outside in the streets. There were stalls everywhere, and street-performers entertaining the shoppers, some quite good. I remember a little acrobat girl who bent her body backwards in a hoop till her hands touched the ground behind her. We threw her some coins, and so did everyone else.

  The shopping took a long time, and we all enjoyed it, except perhaps Brutus, who ended up so laden with heavy bolts of cloth that we sent him home with them, but not before he’d had a drink at a pleasant wine-shop with benches and tables outside in the sun. Brutus ordered refreshments for us all, drank his own beer quickly and set off for Albia’s, giving us strict instructions not to stray far away till he got back.

  As we relaxed, I s
uddenly remembered one more errand. “I must buy a present for Jovina’s birthday, Albia. I’ll take it along from you and me and Vitellia. I wonder what she’d like? Something for her house, I expect. We passed a shop selling unusual blue pottery beakers…if I can only remember where it was, I’ll get some. You can never have too many mugs, can you?”

  Albia bit into her pastry. “We’ll have a look in the market. There’s a stall there that sells the most beautiful rugs. Rugs are something else you can’t have too many of, and it’d be easier to carry on the journey than a box of pots.”

  “Who’s that waving at you, Aurelia?” Vitellia asked suddenly.

  A young man was trying to catch my attention. I recognised him at once: his compact, wiry figure, his red hair, and his wide smile. I waved back enthusiastically, and he hurried towards us as fast as he could through the crowds.

  “Mistress Aurelia! Mistress Albia! I never expected to see you here.”

  “Titch, by the gods! This is a surprise. It’s good to see you.”

  Indeed it was. Albia and I insisted he sit down with us and have a drink. We had known him for years, ever since he came to work at the Oak Tree as a young horse-boy. Now that he was grown up and working as an Imperial investigator, we rarely saw him, but it was always a pleasure when we did. A special pleasure for me, as it usually meant we’d also see his boss, Quintus Antonius Delfinus, also an investigator…and to me, much more than that.

  I noticed Vitellia looking puzzled. “Sorry, Vitellia, I’m forgetting my manners. This is Gaius Varius Victor, a very old friend of all our family. Lucius may have mentioned him.”

  “If he did, he probably called him Titch,” Albia put in.

  “And this is Vitellia,” I went on. “Ah, now there’s our table-boy.” I beckoned the lad over, and in no time we had another jug of wine, and beer for Titch.

  He took a long draught and sighed contentedly. “Thank you, that’s very welcome. I’m as dry as a camel’s…a camel in a desert. Mustn’t be too long though. The boss is expecting me to meet him at midday.” He smiled at Vitellia. “And this is the lady who’s to marry Master Lucius?”

  She blushed, and I laughed. “Good news travels fast, I see.”

  He nodded. “It does. We heard all about you from Lucius himself. I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Vitellia.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him her beaming smile. “Where did you meet Lucius? Is he in Eburacum now? It’s ages since I saw him, and I do miss him so.”

  “Ages,” Albia teased. “Three days.”

  Titch shook his head. “He’s not here now. We saw him the day he arrived, just long enough to buy him a beaker or two and arrange for a proper get-together next day. Then he got orders to leave in a hurry.”

  “For Isurium?” I made it sound casual, but I felt tense. Despite my brave words to Albia yesterday, I’d been hoping against hope that he might not be there when we arrived.

  “Not Isurium, no. He’s gone further north, to Morbium. There’s been trouble at the fort there, some poxy natives getting uppity, and the garrison commander here said it was an emergency and sent Lucius off to deal with it. He’ll just call in at Isurium on the way, but he won’t be stopping.”

  I felt enormously relieved, but tried not to look it. Vitellia was crestfallen, then brightened up. “If I write him a note, could you get it delivered to him at Morbium?”

  “Aye, probably, but…”

  “Best not, when he’s working,” I cut in quickly. “You know he doesn’t like personal matters distracting him when he’s on a case.”

  Albia saw where I was driving. “Aurelia’s right. But talking of letters, Vitellia, have you written to your parents since you arrived at Oak Bridges?”

  “No, I haven’t, and I should send them a note, shouldn’t I?”

  “I’m sure they’re longing to hear from you.”

  “I will. I’ll write this afternoon.”

  “What are you doing up north?” I asked Titch. “I thought you and Quintus were working in Londinium this summer.”

  “We were. But we’ve come north on a special assignment. We’re guarding a Very Important Person.” His mocking tone was at odds with his words, yet I knew it must be someone quite unusual, to need an investigator as senior as Quintus in his retinue.

  “Do tell us,” Albia said. “The provincial governor? He doesn’t come north often, and when he does he brings half Londinium along for the ride.”

  “More likely a top gladiator,” I said. “You’re protecting him from his desperate lady admirers.”

  Titch laughed. “That’s a job we’d really enjoy. Whereas this one…” He shook his head. “I dunno if we’re meant to be protecting Lord Eurytus from the world, or the world from Lord Eurytus.”

  Vitellia asked, “Who’s Lord Eurytus?”

  I said, “A tax collector from Rome. And he’s in Eburacum now?”

  “He has been, but he left for Isurium today. We’re going up there too, but not till tomorrow. We have to see the garrison commander here for a briefing before we leave.”

  “You and Quintus will be in Isurium? That’s very good news. Vitellia and I are heading for Isurium ourselves tomorrow. We’ve an invitation to stay with my cousin there for a few days.”

  “Why, that’s grand. Wait till I tell the boss—he’ll be really pleased.” He finished his beer and stood up. “And I reckon I’d best be on my way to him now. Sorry I can’t stop longer, but we’ll meet again at Isurium tomorrow.” And with a smile and a wave, he hurried off and was soon swallowed up in the market day crowds.

  Albia and I lingered over our wine, while Vitellia and Baca wandered a short distance away from us. They stopped to look at a stall selling an unusual mixture of goods: square table mats of some solid-looking white material, large table-cloths of a fabric I didn’t recognise, and next to them a big pile of travelling cloaks in different shades of cream and fawn. Again I couldn’t identify what they were made of, certainly not the usual sheepskin or wool. Beside the trestle table, surprising on such a warm day, was a charcoal brazier with a steaming iron pot suspended over it.

  A sandy-haired salesman was showing off his wares, helped by a pretty girl assistant, and his lively patter had drawn a small crowd. We strolled over to join it.

  “Come and look, my lords and ladies, come and look what I’ve got here! Congrio’s my name, Honest Congrio from Crete, and I travel the world to bring you something really special. See these wonderful table-mats and cloths? Just the thing to grace any dinner, even a banquet for Caesar himself. Look at the elegant shapes and the nice clean white colour.”

  He picked a square mat up and held it aloft. “All right, you say, what’s so unusual? I’ve got dozens of table-cloths and mats. Well, I’ll tell you, my lords and ladies, you haven’t got any like these. These are made from a marvellous fibre that’s grown far away in the east. I call it Vulcan’s Shield. Why Vulcan’s Shield? Because the blacksmith of the gods would give his immortal eye teeth for this stuff. It’s proof against any amount of heat, it’ll even stand fire and flame, yet it won’t be burnt up. Watch this now. Here we have a brazier, good and hot. You can probably feel the heat from where you stand, my lords and ladies, and you can see the steam coming out of that iron pot there. Well then…”

  With a dramatic flourish he threw the mat into the brazier. The girl took a short stick and stirred the embers, heaping hot coals onto the mat. The tip of the stick began to char, and she held it aloft so the salesman could point it out to us. The mat simply sat there, undamaged.

  The crowd murmured in wonder, and the salesman signalled to the girl. She removed the mat with a pair of metal tongs and held it out to him He took it with his bare hands, not even wincing as he held it high once more. Apart from a few smears of ash from the fire, it looked as good as new.

  Next he picked up a fawn hooded cloak and spread it out in both hands so we could all see that it was complete and unmarked. It looked much like any other thick cloth. Vitellia was intrigued
by it, and the salesman noticed and smiled directly at her.

  “Don’t take my word for it, my lady, feel the quality for yourself. This wonderful cloth brings you good luck, and it protects whoever wears it from all harm, especially that most terrifying disaster, fire.”

  Before I could stop her, Vitellia stepped forward and felt the fabric. “It’s not as soft as wool,” she said doubtfully.

  “Quite right, young lady. But would ordinary wool protect you from all the evils of the world? Could you do this to an ordinary woollen cloak?” He laid it out over his display of mats and nodded to his assistant, who collected a shovel full of hot coals from the brazier and dumped them onto the centre of the cloak. They had no effect at all, though they were clearly hot and smoky.

  Again the crowd was impressed. Congrio picked up the cloak by its edges and carefully tipped the coals back into the brazier. He held the material up to show it was unharmed, and then calmly draped it round his shoulders. “And now, my lords, my ladies, who’s going to buy a cloak like this? Or a set of mats, or a cloth to grace your table…”

  Several people looked interested but Vitellia was the first to speak. She announced, shyly but with determination, “That looks a good cloak.”

  “Don’t waste your money,” I murmured in her ear. “It must be a trick.”

  The salesman was all smiles. “No, my lady, I promise you there’s no trick. Your young friend is making a very wise choice.” He smiled at Vitellia. “Tell you what I’ll do, for such a beautiful customer. If you’d like to buy a cloak, I’ll throw in a set of four mats free. How does that sound?”

  “And if I buy two cloaks,” Vitellia asked, “one for myself and one for my fiancé, can I have eight mats free?”

  Everyone laughed, including the trader. “Well, well. I see you’re as clever as you’re beautiful, young lady. Of course you can.”

  I couldn’t remember Vitellia making any sort of independent decision since I’d known her, so I was pleased she’d stood up for herself, even while I was irritated that she’d fallen for the salesman’s pitch. And at least the table mats would make an excellent birthday gift for Jovina.