Danger in the Wind

by Jane Finnis

  I wondered if the boy realised what he was saying? Apparently not, because he was still chattering on about having to change his wet tunic when he’d finished helping Mallius. But something in my face made him stop and his scared look returned.

  “It’ll soon dry,” he said, meaning the tunic presumably. “And at least there was no blood on it. The master gets furious when I mess my tunic up with blood.” He trailed off again.

  I gave him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be all right; I’m sure it will. Now then, Onion, can you keep a secret?”

  He nodded. “Yes, if it’s something I mustn’t tell the master. I’m quite good at those sort of secrets, otherwise I’d be black and blue.” He touched the bruise on his cheek.

  “This is a secret you mustn’t tell anyone. I want you to promise.”

  “All right, I promise.”

  “You’ve discovered something important. The deputy commander is left-handed, that’s why he was so clumsy with the other hand.”

  “Of course, that must be it! He never said it in so many words. I didn’t realise. So his right hand was his wrong hand, wasn’t it?” He smiled, and I saw that there was a cheeky little scamp lurking somewhere beneath the outwardly timid slave. The lad wasn’t cowed yet.

  But I had to make him see the danger he was in. “That’s a good way of putting it. You see what it means, don’t you? It means he didn’t try to kill himself. If he had, he’d have used his left hand to cut his right wrist.”

  “Then if he didn’t cut his wrist, who did?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I mean to find out. Will you help me?”

  “Yes, if I can. But I don’t know anything important, really.”

  “You’ve already proved that you do. Have you told any of this to your master, or Pythis?”

  He shook his head. “They get annoyed if I criticise the patients. Though some of them are…well, I’d better not say. But the master was in and out among the patients most of the morning. I suppose he could have seen for himself what a struggle Lord Mallius was having. He’s getting better now anyhow, so I don’t suppose it matters.”

  “It matters very much. I want to find out who tried to kill him. It was an evil thing to do, don’t you think?”

  “Well…they say he killed someone himself, so perhaps he deserved it.”

  “He didn’t kill anyone. I can promise you that. So he didn’t deserve to be killed.”

  “Then it was evil. Do you think I should tell my master?”

  “No. As I said, it’s got to be a secret. Remember, you’ve promised me you won’t tell anyone else. When the time comes, I’ll tell everyone, but not yet. Do you see why?”

  He looked puzzled, then slowly realisation dawned. “You think the master will be angry with me if he thinks somebody has sneaked in from outside and tried to kill the deputy commander, and I didn’t notice?”

  “Quite right.” That seemed a less alarming reason than the true one, and it should convince the boy to keep quiet. “You don’t want to make him angry, do you?”

  “No. I understand. I’ll keep the secret.”

  “Just for now, till we’ve found out what really happened to Mallius. I’d like you to tell me as much as you can about last night. Were you the only one on watch?”

  “I was the main one,” he said proudly. “My master slept on a bed in the waiting-room, and I had to rouse him if anything happened. It should have been Pythis really, but the master said he’d take the watch, because the deputy commander was one of our patients.”

  “If you stayed awake all the time, you’ll have seen most of what went on, I expect.”

  “I wasn’t watching by Lord Mallius’ bedside. I was in the store-room most of the time, cleaning the master’s instruments, sharpening some of them, rolling bandages, that sort of thing.”

  I grinned. “You get all the glamorous jobs, don’t you?”

  His smile returned briefly. “Oh, yes. But store-room work is better than emptying slop-buckets. That’s the absolute bottom of the glamorous list.” Then he was serious again. “The small rooms where the patients sleep are all along one corridor. The store-room’s at one end of the passage, so if you’re working in there you can see all the way down it from inside.”

  “And each small room has a curtain in front of it instead of a door. That must make it quicker for the doctors to get from one patient to another.”

  “Quicker and quieter, with no doors slamming. Actually it’s one big room split into three, with screens dividing one patient from the next.”

  That made me stop and think. “So a doctor, or anyone, could go from one room to another by moving one of the screens aside, not going out into the corridor and in again?”

  “They could, but they don’t. Quite often they’re carrying things, trays of instruments or bowls of water. It’s easier to go through the curtains.”

  “And there were just two patients last night, Fabianus and Mallius?”

  He nodded. “And some in the big fever ward, but one of the other boys did that watch.”

  “Then we’ll concentrate on the three small rooms in the corridor. From the store-room you could see if anyone went in or out?”

  “Yes, and hear what was going on in them. That’s what I was really there for, to answer if anyone called out, and fetch the master.”

  “And did anyone call out?”

  “Fabianus did. He’s the man who got wounded on patrol. He was restless with his fever, and started shouting and trying to get out of bed. I fetched the master to him, and he stayed by his bedside for ages.”

  “Did Mallius call out?”

  “No. The only sound from his room was from the people who visited him. They spoke to him a bit, and the master tried to rouse him of course, but he didn’t answer any of them.”

  “If he didn’t call out, what made you go into his room?”

  “It was when the daylight came. My master had told me I could go to bed at sunrise. So I wanted to get permission to leave, but I knew he’d ask me whether I’d checked that the patients were all right before I went to bed; he always does. So I went into Fabianus’ room and he was sound asleep at last, and then into the deputy commander’s. There was blood everywhere, and his wrist was all slit open. I fetched the master and he was furious. He said I should have realised Lord Mallius was trying to cut his wrist. But I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “You said people came to see Mallius. Who were they? Did any outsiders come in?”

  “I don’t think so. There was the commander of course, he came just before the moon rose, but he’s not an outsider. And the deputy commander’s son, Philippus, I think they call him, but he’s not an outsider either.”

  “Maybe ‘outsider’ is the wrong word. I mean anyone who wouldn’t normally have been in the hospital at night-time. Trebonius, Philippus…anyone else?”

  “Oh, I see. I don’t think so. There was a guard in the waiting area. He might know for sure.”

  I said gently, “Then you don’t know for sure? Is it possible, just possible, you fell asleep for a little while?”

  “Well…I did get very sleepy. But it wouldn’t have been for long, only a few heartbeats.” He looked frightened. “You won’t say anything to my master?”

  “I won’t breathe a word. You’ve been such a help to me, the last thing I want is to get you into trouble.”

  “Have I? I’m glad. Now I’d best be getting back, or he’ll be grumbling.”

  “And not a word about this conversation to anyone, all right?” I tossed him a copper coin.

  From his joyful reaction, it could have been a gold piece. “Thank you, Mistress. That’s the first money I’ve ever owned.”

  “Take care of it then. Off you go.”

  I sat for a while pondering what he’d said. Two people had visited Mallius in the hospital during the night. Could either of them have tried to kill him? I thought I could rule out Philippus, not so much because of his filial loyalty, which was dubious where Mallius wa
s concerned, but because he of all people would be bound to know his father was left-handed. If he’d planned to fake Mallius’ suicide he’d have done it properly. Besides, I really didn’t believe he had killed his mother, and I felt very strongly that Jovina’s death and Mallius’ near-death were linked.

  But Trebonius…that was a different box of beetles altogether. He was definitely under suspicion of killing Jovina. He’d been seen in the woods alone at the party, he’d been missing from the party field for a substantial time when he claimed to be taking Fulvina home. And he had a motive, or rather a choice of two: either he wanted to be Jovina’s lover and she refused him, or, more likely in my opinion, she desperately wanted an affair with him but he didn’t.

  And if I was wrong in concluding the murder and the attempted murder were committed by the same person, Trebonius had yet another reason for wanting Mallius dead: to avenge Jovina, after he’d heard Mallius confess to killing her. Making it appear as a suicide was a clever way to leave himself completely clear of suspicion. Add to all that the fact that Trebonius and Mallius had been rivals over many years. Perhaps Trebonius had been biding his time till he could dispose of a troublesome enemy, and had seized the chance with both hands.

  It looked an overwhelming case. And yet it failed to convince me completely. Right from the start of this investigation there’d been two runners in the field, the doctor and the commander. The doctor was still in the running, it seemed to me. Pythis had told me he’d been to the party field, and Jovina herself had talked about the possibility of renewing their love affair. And then there were the pieces of broken glass in the grass where her body had been found. Had she taken his beautiful present so they could drink together at their secret tryst…and had he smashed it in a fit of temper?

  We’d already found two powerful motives that could have induced him to kill Jovina: discovering about his unborn baby, or becoming enraged because she wouldn’t run away with him. And the same logic applied with him as with Trebonius: if he hadn’t killed Jovina and believed that Mallius had, there was an additional motive. And there was one more thing to bear in mind. Of all the people in the hospital last night, he was the one with most opportunity to arrange Mallius’ “suicide,” especially since he’d insisted on remaining on night duty even though it wasn’t his turn.

  If it hadn’t been for little Onion’s finding Mallius in time, one of those two would have got away with murder.

  Chapter XXIV

  I strolled over to the main gate with the excuse of checking whether Lucius or Quintus, or anyone at all, had sent me a message. They hadn’t, but to be honest my main reason was the need to be outdoors. All this talk of the hospital at night, with somebody creeping about bent on murder, left me feeling anxious not to be cooped up in the office and in need of an outdoor breeze and some ordinary, friendly sunshine. I was unlucky there, because the sky had clouded over and a blustery wind blew, but it did at least provide fresh air.

  Centurion Ennius was still in command at the gate. I asked him how things were going.

  “All according to plan, Aurelia,” he said with an over-hearty smile. “Don’t worry, we have everything under control.” That’s the standard answer that officers always produce to reassure civilians, which it usually doesn’t.

  “Jolly good,” I answered. His meaningless reassurance deserved an equally meaningless response.

  But then came something more interesting. “The hostages are all safely under guard now. They tried to get that native leader Brennus, but he’s vanished. Picked up one of his sons though. The commander reckons the natives will soon come to their senses.”

  It’s Trebonius who needs to come to his senses, I thought, and set off to visit Mallius.

  The deputy commander’s house was considered large by the standards of the fort, but seemed small by comparison with civilian accommodation. Outside it stood a huge soldier with muscles on his muscles and an unwelcoming expression. He eyed me suspiciously and grunted, “The commander’s resting. He ain’t seeing nobody.”

  I debated correcting his bad grammar, but decided against. “He’ll see me, because he sent a message asking me to come. I’m his wife’s cousin, Aurelia Marcella.”

  He turned and hammered on the door, which was opened by another man, even larger and surlier.

  “Here, Ajax,” the outdoor guard said. “This woman says the deputy commander wants to see her. I doubt it myself, she ain’t his type. But go and ask him, will you?”

  “All right.” He shut the door, leaving us outside, but was back very soon, and addressed me with what, for him, must pass for politeness. “He’s expecting a Mistress Aurelia Marcella. You got any identification? Can’t be too careful, the way things are.”

  “Identification? Don’t be ridiculous. Show me in at once. If Mallius doesn’t recognise me you can show me out again.”

  “Well, I suppose so. Come along o’ me then.”

  He led me into the main room, where Mallius himself reclined on a reading-couch. I was pleasantly surprised by his appearance. His wrist was still bandaged, but he wore a clean tunic and was freshly shaved. And he wasn’t drunk. The room was neat and clean too. I wasn’t surprised, though, to see that the table beside him held a wine-jug and beakers.

  “Aurelia, come in and sit down.” He glanced at the guard. “Thanks, Ajax, I’ll call you if I need you. While Mistress Aurelia’s here I don’t want to be disturbed by anyone. Understand?”

  “Sir.” He saluted and left.

  “What’s all the security for?” I asked him. “You’re completely free again now, aren’t you? That’s what Trebonius told me.”

  “Oh yes, quite free. And I know I owe that to you. You stood by me and wouldn’t take my silly rant of last night seriously. So thank you.”

  I felt embarrassed, and could only come up with the inadequate reply, “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll explain everything properly. First let me pour you some wine.” He filled a mug slightly awkwardly with his right hand, and I took it from him and sat down on a stool near his couch. He raised his beaker to me. “To your health, Aurelia.”

  “And to yours, Marcus. I must say you’re looking better than you did this morning. How are you feeling now?”

  “Not too bad. My wrist is sore, and I’ve a thumping headache, which I know I could cure with plenty of wine, but I want to keep my wits about me, so I’m not going to drink much.”

  “Good. I mean good that you’re not drinking much. I’m surprised to see you here, actually. I thought you’d take the chance to rest in the hospital, at least for today.”

  He began to shake his head, and winced with the pain. “I wanted to be out of the place. It scared me, I’ll tell you that for nothing. Gods, I’m glad you’re here, Aurelia. Someone I can talk to. Someone I can trust.” He stopped and looked at me keenly. “I can trust you, can’t I? I want your help, and I’d like your friendship, too.”

  I honestly didn’t know how to answer. After the way he’d treated Jovina during the past few months, could he really expect me to be his friend ever again? And if he did, was I prepared to be?

  “I’ll help get justice for Jovina,” I said. “You didn’t kill her, and I’ll find out who did. You can trust me for that.”

  “Thank you. No, I didn’t kill her, although I didn’t treat her well these last few months. I’m as anxious as you are to avenge her.” He took a small sip of wine. “I think I know who did murder her, and because of that somebody tried to kill me last night in the hospital. It was meant to look like suicide, but I assure you it wasn’t.”

  “I know. A left-handed man would never have cut his left wrist.”

  He let out a huge sigh of relief. “You realised that? I was hoping and praying that you would. It’s the strongest proof I have that I didn’t try to kill myself.”

  “Were you awake at all last night? For instance, when somebody came into your room and opened your vein?”

  “Yes, I was. Half-awake anyway. It’s
all nixed up in my head. At first I was too drunk to be aware of anything. I know I had some vivid dreams, very strange but mostly not unpleasant. Jovina was in one of them, she was down by the river, and I was with her…” He stopped.

  I must steer him away from this sad subject. “Did you dream about anyone in the hospital?”

  “Once or twice, and I thought I was truly awake, only I couldn’t move or speak, and I got confused. Then in the last of the dreams, I felt a pain in my wrist. I thought it was part of the dream to begin with. It didn’t hurt much.”

  “And you think that was when someone was opening your vein?”

  “I’m certain of it. I came partly awake. I didn’t know where I was, I only knew I felt sick and thirsty, and someone was holding my wrist and cutting it.”

  “Gods, I’m not surprised you’re glad to be away from there. What did you do?”

  “Nothing at all. Although I know now that I was half-awake, at the time I thought I was dreaming and I felt too weak to struggle. Someone had put a pillow over my mouth—not my nose, just my mouth, so I could still breathe but not call out. And I couldn’t see much, it was very dark. There was only a faint glimmer of light from the window, and the man was in silhouette.”

  “You can’t even remember whether he was tall or short, thin or fat?”

  “No. And although I could hear what he said to me, it was in a soft whisper, so I wouldn’t know his voice again.”

  “What did he say? Can you remember?”

  “I’ll never forget it. ‘We both know who murdered your wife. You should have kept your eyes shut and your mouth shut. You will pay the price, and I will risk the wrath of the Erinyes.’”

  I shivered in spite of the room’s warmth and the bright daylight outside. The Erinyes, the Daughters of Night…their name alone seemed to bring dread into the house. My mind was filled with the ugly shapes of the three terrifying winged goddesses whose job is to punish wrongdoers by making them ill, even driving them mad. And their torments last for ever…

  “Diana preserve us from them,” I prayed, and the dreadful images faded. “What happened then?”