by Jane Finnis
“I think she guesses.”
“And Marius—is he involved in what you’re doing here?”
“Yes, but he’s not a full cousin yet. In training, you might say; Uncle Titus gives the new recruits a trial period before they are truly part of the family. So he’s acting as my assistant. He’s a sound man, old Marius. From Gaul originally, and speaks several languages, so he gets on well with the natives.”
“Lucius said in his letter you have business in Brigantia. Are you allowed to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“Looking into these rumours of native unrest. We think the rebels may be getting help from someone in the army. I’ve orders to see if there’s any evidence of that on the ground here. Lucius will be working on the problem from the Eburacum end, though I don’t know when he’ll be able to start.”
“His letter said he was in the west, but that was half a month ago.”
“Isca Silurum, yes. His present investigation is dragging on rather. He’ll come north when he can.”
“It can’t be too soon! But at least we’ve got you here now. You’ll let me know if we can help in any way?”
“There’s one thing you can do straight away, if you will. Tell me all you can about that wounded man who turned up yesterday.”
“Was it only yesterday? Gods, it feels longer! I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. He’s still asleep.”
Junius said, “Not all the time, surely. I gather from the houseboys that he enjoyed some breakfast this morning, and had a bath.”
That’s the trouble with letting one of Lucius’ so-called cousins into your house—bang goes your privacy. But this situation was getting out of hand. I was under an obligation to Lucius, and another conflicting one to Quintus Antonius, and I was in the middle trying to do what was right. I’d have to assume that a promise given face to face outranked an obligation to an absent brother.
“He did come round,” I admitted, “but he was pretty dozy, and seems to have no memory of how he got here. Now he’s gone to sleep again, which will do him good. He’ll need to rest until his bruises go down, especially that lump on his head.”
“What work does he do?”
“He’s a bridge surveyor and inspector. But I can’t see him doing much inspecting for a while.”
“Has he told you his name?” Junius wanted to know.
“He’s Quintus Valerius Longinus.”
“Pity. I was wondering if he might be Quintus Antonius Delfinus.”
“Who’s he?”
“Just someone I’m looking for.” He shrugged. “Never mind, we must do the best we can.” He stood up. “And now, you don’t mind if I take Albia away from the bar for a few hours?”
I laughed. “I don’t seem to be getting much choice in the matter!”
“Good. And I’m glad we’ve had this little chat. Cleared the air, haven’t we?”
“We certainly have.” The air’s as clear as winter fog, I thought, as I watched him go back to the bar. If he’s Lucius’ cousin, who in Jupiter’s holy name is Quintus Antonius Delfinus?
Chapter X
I couldn’t even begin to get an answer to this till next day. Quintus Antonius slept like a baby through the afternoon, into the evening, and all night. I looked in on him every now and then; he was relaxed and didn’t stir, and there was no need for anyone to watch beside his bed. As our grandmother used to say, “Sleep is the best medicine, and cheap too.”
Albia and Junius disappeared till dark, came back briefly for supper, and then disappeared again. I was glad for Albia. She’s so good at her job, I admit I sometimes leave her to do more than her share of the work here. She deserved some time off, and if being in love made her happy, then I was happy too. But being a bit more cynical than my sister, I just hoped it wouldn’t end in tears.
The sentries we posted reported nothing stirring from dusk till dawn. I woke up refreshed and full of energy, looking forward to the day ahead, the day of Silvanius’ meeting, and the dinner at his new villa. Before I got involved in the morning chores, I sorted out the clothes I wanted to wear so they’d be ready for a quick change later. I decided to put on a show. Well, why not? I was pretty sure I would be the only woman in the party; I could either try to be invisible, or aim to be conspicuous. I never was much good at being invisible.
I chose my cream embroidered tunic with the russet-red over-tunic, and white sandals; I added my green wool travelling-cloak, in case it was cold on the way home. I even found some silver ear-rings and a chain necklace, to match my new silver brooches.
At breakfast-time I took a tray of food to Quintus’ room; if he was still asleep, I could leave it in case he woke up hungry later. But he was wide awake, and greeted me with a smile.
“Hello, Aurelia. You’re a welcome sight.”
“Cupboard love.” I put down the tray. “I thought you might be ready for food, after a hard day and night sleeping. There’s fresh bread, cold sausage, and fruit, and some Rhodian.”
“I’m starving! Thanks.” He took a beaker and drank gratefully, then started on the sausage as if he hadn’t eaten for a month. “Delicious,” he said, with his mouth full.
“You’re looking better.” I sat on a stool next to his couch.
“I’m feeling better too. I’m still sore, especially my head. But I’ll mend. I’ve slept for hours. I just stretched out for a rest after my bath, and dozed off….Well, it’s done me good. So what’s been going on? No more visits from the military?”
“No, we’ve had a peaceful time. And an interesting visitor yesterday.” I began telling him about Ulysses, and was surprised when he said he knew the old pedlar.
“I’m sorry I missed him, he’s a marvellous old boy. I’ve met him down south.”
I laughed. “And was it his coloured ribbons that interested you, or his perfumes?”
“His travellers’ tales, of course! He may embroider his stories a bit, but he’s actually one of the most observant men you could wish to meet. He has to be, to survive on his own. And he travels the whole province. A very useful source of information, a man like that. If I couldn’t see the eclipse myself, I can’t think of anybody better to report on it than old Ulysses. Tell me exactly what he said about it.”
I did, and he looked grave, and actually stopped eating. “That’s just what we thought would happen—the Druids encouraging the natives to turn on the settlers. We knew an eclipse would make a perfect omen to frighten them into doing what the rebels want.”
“Which is to try and drive us out of Brigantia?”
“Out of Britannia, if they can. But Brigantia will do for a start. If they can recapture Brigantia, they hope that other tribes will follow their example. Brigantia is where their leader is based. And I’m afraid it’ll get worse before it gets better.” Just what Hawk had told me. It was depressing to hear it repeated.
“We’ve had trouble from the natives before,” I pointed out. “In a newly conquered province, it goes with the territory. But this seems somehow more organised.”
“It is. That’s why I’m here.” He finished the last of the meat and took a long drink of wine.
“Roman treachery, you said. Romans are helping the rebels, like those two yesterday, pretending to be from Kickers and Punchers?”
“Oh, they’re genuine investigators all right. Not for much longer, I hope, but for the present, they’re based in Eburacum, and they’ve got a nice little racket going, supplying the natives with military stores.”
“Weapons, you mean?”
“No, much more subtle. Military clothing.”
“Clothing? You’re joking!”
“I wish I was. Tunics, cloaks, helmet crests, boots, belts, all the things that make a soldier look like a soldier. Think about it. When someone’s dressed in military gear, you don’t question who he is, you probably hardly look at his face. He’s just one more soldier from our occupying army, and you do what he asks you to do. Whether it’s giving him information, food, drink, shelter e
ven….You don’t think twice. I mean you, Aurelia, and me. I stopped on the road the other night when I saw what I took to be a wounded soldier. Roman soldiers can get other Romans to do almost anything without having to spill a drop of blood, in a way natives never could.”
“So you’ve found them out. Is that why they attacked you? They were in the gang that tried to kill you on the road.”
He looked up sharply. “Ah, now I did wonder….I didn’t get much of a look at them in the dark. You’re sure?”
“One of my horse-boys saw them, and he’s quite sure. That’s why I sent them packing. Even though they behaved as if you were their long-lost friend, and you wouldn’t tell me properly what was going on.”
“You were wonderful.” He reached out and touched my hand lightly. “And this is really good news. I’ve been looking for evidence against them for a while, but they’ve been pretty clever, keeping in the background. At last they’ve slipped up and shown their faces. I wonder now….” He sat staring at nothing, lost in his thoughts.
I got up quietly and went over to the door that led into the garden. I opened it a few inches, and a cool morning breeze stole in. I looked out at the quiet flowers and the cloudless sky, a scene that usually gave me a calm pleasure, but now all I could do was wonder if any enemies were lurking in the woods.
A soft footfall made me jump. Quintus was there beside me, and he slid his arm lightly across my shoulders. “I’m going to need your help again, Aurelia. If you will.”
“What sort of help?” It came out more abruptly than I’d intended, and he moved away slightly.
“I’d like to stay here at the Oak Tree for a while. It’s just the base I need, bang in the middle of the area I’m investigating.”
I was aware how much I wanted him to stay. So was he, probably. But there were questions I had to ask before I agreed. “Quintus Antonius, I don’t know who you are and I don’t know what in Hades you’re up to. I didn’t mind keeping those brutes from harming you yesterday, but if I’m going to get involved any deeper, I need more information.”
“I’ve told you all I can.”
Again, he was evading my questions, and it irritated me. “It’s not enough. If I help you, and I only say if, I could be putting myself in danger, and Albia, and all our people. That’s something I’m only prepared to do if I know it’s absolutely necessary. So convince me.”
“What would you say,” he smiled, “if I told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?”
I said what I usually say to that kind of nonsense. I won’t write it here; it might shock the Governor. “And I don’t think it’s a joking matter,” I added, “being asked by a total stranger to take risks with my home, just because he’s been incompetent enough to get ambushed in the woods.”
He grew serious, and looked me squarely in the eyes. “No, it’s not, and I apologise. If I tell you what I can, will you help me then?”
“How can I answer that until you do tell me?”
“All right.” He walked back to the couch and sat down, and I went and sat beside him, saying nothing, waiting for him to explain.
“What I need is for you to tell everybody that your guest, Quintus Valerius Longinus, is recovering slowly from being attacked, but will have to rest for a while before travelling on. He’s going to take a few days’ leave to recuperate—walks in the woods, perhaps a ride, that sort of thing. If anyone asks his job, he’s a bridge builder and surveyor.” He took a plum from the fruit dish and ate it. “I’ve got to be as inconspicuous as possible. I know I’ve made a dramatic start, but now I just want to blend into the scenery.”
“No problem about any of that. People will soon find some other topic of conversation, and we’ll tell the world your bang on the head has made you lose all memory of being attacked, so they’ll get tired of asking you about it.”
He nodded. “Good. And may I borrow some clothes please, and perhaps a sword? And a horse now and then.”
“Fine. But what will you actually be doing?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just finding and killing a dangerous rebel leader, before he and his band drive all the Romans out of Britannia.”
But I wanted an answer to my question.
“Quintus,” I persisted, “watch my lips. What will you actually be doing?”
“Talking to people, gathering information. From Romans, from native Britons, from Hyperboreans if they have anything useful to tell me. And doing it in such a way that the traitor, whoever he is, doesn’t suspect.”
“Presumably you’ll arrest those two bent investigators first?”
“Soon, yes. I’ll send word to Lucius at Eburacum about them….”
“My brother’s at Eburacum?”
“Not yet, but he’s due any day. He’s supposed to be covering the military side of this investigation. There are probably more traitors in the garrison than just those two. I’ve been wondering about your two young tribunes…but I’m after the big fish, not the small fry.”
“The Shadow of Death. And you’ve no idea at all who he is?”
“We know a few things about him. He’s a Roman civilian, and he’s high-powered enough to have access to secret information. He’s in control of a well-trained Brigantian war-band, which he often leads himself, wearing a mask. Above all, he’s the reason this bit of native violence could turn into a very dangerous rebellion.”
“Why are you so sure he’s a Roman? Isn’t it more likely he’s a Brigantian chieftain, someone from one of the old families who resents the Empire for taking away his political power?”
“That’s what we thought at first, but he can’t be.” Quintus rubbed his bruised eye thoughtfully. “He’s too well informed for a native. He gathers extraordinary amounts of secret information, which he could only get from Roman sources, and highly placed ones at that. I tell you, he frightens me.”
“What sort of information?”
“Well….” He hesitated, then seemed to make up his mind. “Who do you know who could successfully ambush convoys carrying gold for paying the troops at Eburacum?”
“Merda! They’ve robbed pay convoys? Those wagons are guarded better than a Vestal’s virginity. Usually much better!”
“Quite. And it was very professionally done. They had accurate details of routes and times, and they picked perfect spots for their attacks, where the road goes through deep woods, miles from anywhere. All the troops in the escorts were killed, and the bodies beheaded. And every horse, wagon and gold piece vanished like the morning mist, or as they would probably say, like shadows.”
“How many convoys?”
“Two. The second was last month. That’s when the Governor started taking the Shadow of Death seriously.”
“But we’ve heard nothing about any of this. The mansio here gets the news from half the province, and there hasn’t been a whisper.”
“Of course there hasn’t! It’s hardly the sort of thing the military would want spread abroad, is it? Ambushes in broad daylight in a conquered province, top secret information being passed to well-organised rebels?”
“Holy Diana! If they can do that, they can do anything.”
“Yes. And the point is, the leader, the Roman traitor, is based somewhere near here, within easy reach of Eburacum and Derventio, and not too far from the coast….”
“Near here? Near Oak Bridges?”
“Yes.”
“Then he could be someone I know personally!”
“I hope so, yes.”
“What?”
“That’s where you can help me still more. I need to know about the leading Romans in this part of the province. Who has a reason for wanting to betray the Empire? Who’s got good contacts among the natives? Who’s short of money, or who’s suddenly got more money than he should have….I don’t know. I need someone with local knowledge to tell me.”
“You want me to spy on my friends? I don’t much like the sound of that.”
“I’ll do the spying, you just give me a
base to work from, and whatever information you can. Don’t you see, this is the reason, the real reason, why I’ve got to make myself inconspicuous. I want people round here not to notice me, but if they do, just to think I’m a harmless government surveyor, recovering from a knock on the head, on his way to inspect some bridges. Above all I don’t want any of the settlers to realise that the slightest suspicion could fall on them. This is a dangerous man, and a clever one. My only hope of finding him is if he gets over-confident and does something careless. If I’m the one to do something careless, I may not live to tell anyone about it. And I haven’t got long. The trouble has started, and I must find him and kill him. And quickly!” The last word came out sharply, like a trap closing. Then with an effort he relaxed, and held the dish of plums out to me. “These are delicious. Have some, before I wolf them all.”
I shook my head, too busy thinking to eat. “So this Shadow of Death must be living a kind of double life. Behaving like a Roman during the daytime, and turning into a rebel leader at night. It certainly can’t be anyone I know. I mean you’d be bound to notice something like that….”
“No, you wouldn’t. I’ve told you, this is a clever man. Think how easy it would be in practice. A man who’s high up in Roman society here, on friendly terms with every other important Roman in the area, who travels about freely, who has plenty of money, and plenty of slaves to carry messages. A town councillor maybe? A government official? Or a rich trader? How about your chief town councillor, Silvanius Clarus?”
“Silvanius! Not in a thousand years! He’s a second-generation citizen, and he’s more Roman than the Capitol. He wants the whole of Britannia to become indistinguishable from Gaul or Italia. He wants Roman government, towns, temples….”
“That’s what he says,” Quintus interrupted.
“And that’s what he does! He’s even building a new temple himself.”
“Which could be the perfect bluff.”
“An enormously expensive one!”
“Well he’s one of the richest men in the district, isn’t he? He also has contacts and clout, with the Romans and with the natives. He’s a Brigantian, isn’t he?”
