by Nick Brown
'Fortunately, I don't have to go very often. We have a fair market here; most of it comes up from Augusta.'
Mistress Laurentius wore an apron over a green tunic and had her hair tied back in a ponytail. She seemed to make little effort with her appearance but Cassius was drawn to her warm smile and large, kind eyes.
'Have you benefited from all the traffic heading west?'
She glanced back at the kitchen.
'Sorry,' said Cassius, 'you're probably busy.'
'No, not all.' Mistress Laurentius placed her hands on the back of a chair. 'Actually, the campaigning hasn’t helped us. We've had a few tribunes through but I'm afraid we're a bit pricey for other officers. Most of my clients are merchants and business has tailed off.'
'Ah – they want to steer clear of the fighting.'
'Yes. Hopefully it will all settle down fairly soon.'
'I believe the emperor has promised a short war.'
'Emperors promise a lot of things. He said the Goths had been defeated but they keep coming back.'
When Cassius didn’t reply, Mistress Laurentius's expression became anxious. 'My apologies, I shouldn't say such things.'
'Not at all.'
'It's … well … I should get on. I shall be back for your dinner order.'
Cassius wasn't sure quite what had led to her awkward retreat but guessed it might have something to do with Master Laurentius, who was not in evidence.
As he waited, sipping his wine, two other guests – merchants by the looks of them – tried to engage him in conversation about the impending conflict. They were quick to announce themselves as champions of Aurelian and keen to know Cassius's “professional” estimation of how long the fighting might last. He responded honestly that he had no idea. The pair were fairly drunk and he was concerned they might try and join him.
Fortunately, Simo and Indavara then staggered in, weighed down by saddlebags. Not far behind them was the stable lad, who Mistress Laurentius instructed to show the new arrivals to their rooms. Cassius smiled at her but she quickly turned away. A little disappointed, he followed the others out of the parlour and up the stairs.
The Mercury's Watch was one of the finest inns they had ever stayed in; a fact that did not escape Simo and Indavara.
'So comfortable,' said the bodyguard as he laid out on one of the two beds in the room he would share with Simo.
'Glad to hear it,' said Cassius from the doorway. He always appreciated a room to himself, especially after an entire day with the others.
'It really is very nice, sir,' added Simo. 'The stalls in the stable are huge and the lad said he'll bring up hot water whenever we need it. Very friendly too.'
'They can afford to be at three denarii a guest.' Cassius glanced at Indavara, who now had his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. 'Is the prospect of chicken stew enough to get you up?'
'Probably the only thing that could.' Indavara swung his legs around, stood up and winced. If it's not my feet, it's my arse, if it's not my arse it's my back.'
'Come, a bit of wine will put you right.'
Five minutes later, they were tucking into the stew, which had been delivered by a serving girl. It seemed the mistress had disappeared for the moment but Cassius learned from Simo that neither the girl nor the stable lad were related to the proprietor.
'A pan to ourselves. Can we stay here forever?' Indavara again raided the large receptacle in the middle of their table. It had arrived with a ladle and contained enough stew for at least two helpings each. There was also a side plate of vegetables and an entire loaf of fresh bread.
Cassius might have complained about the bodyguard’s manners but these days he enjoyed any moment when Indavara seemed like his old self.
Simo ate another mouthful of stew before speaking up. 'I wonder what the accommodation will be like when we join the legion, sir.'
'Occasionally officers are assigned proper quarters but the chances are we'll be given a tent. You two will need to get to work on your camping skills.'
'You're the soldier,' said Indavara.
'Officer.'
As the bodyguard rolled his eyes, Cassius scraped some chicken off a bone and ate. The meat was succulent and well-spiced. He reckoned the Mercury's Watch wouldn't have been out of place in a wealthy district of Ravenna or Rome. Considering it was half way up a mountain, Mistress Laurentius had done an amazing job.
'The bread is peppered,’ said Simo. ‘And I think there's some rosemary in it too. Delicious.'
Indavara suddenly snorted and grinned.
‘What’s up with you?’ asked Cassius.
‘Just remembering that scrap at the market in Petra – when that Arabian swordsman chucked you head first into that pot of pepper. You did more sneezing than fighting.’
‘I’m glad my misfortune continues to bring you such joy.’
‘Really wonderful bread,’ said Simo.
'Enjoy it while you can,' said Cassius. 'We'll likely be on army rations soon.'
As they ate in silence – apart from the occasional slurp from Indavara – Cassius admonished himself for making light of what they faced. Aside from a few months in his first year, he had never been part of a traditional army unit. In fact, one of the few benefits of life with the Service was the element of independence. Nobody was their own master once they joined a legion of Rome.
By the time he finished eating, Indavara and Simo were still enjoying their second portions. Cassius glanced over at the counter and caught a welcome sight of Mistress Laurentius. Again, he was disappointed that she didn't look his way.
There were not many opportunities to mix with women on the road and – after his last mission – he could no longer bring himself to buy time with them. And so he invariably sought out female company whenever he could. Cassius had spent much of his life surrounded by women. With three older sisters, he felt he understood them pretty well. And when his interest in the opposite sex had become more physical, he’d never lacked for success.
It was one such conquest (his aunt's maid, at his aunt's house, at his aunt's fiftieth birthday party) that had landed him in the army. To use an eastern phrase, it had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Corbulo senior had snapped; and decided that his wayward son needed straightening out. From the tone of his recent letters, Cassius sensed that – after all his boy had endured – it was a decision the old man now regretted. He seemed to want his son and heir home; safe and sound.
Women had always provided Cassius with solace and a reminder of the good things in life. He had seen so much malice and brutality; the vast majority of it carried out by men. He was utterly sick of fighting and violence and death. All he wanted was a return to normality. He tried not to think of home but the fine surroundings of the Mercury's Watch and the attributes of its owner seemed to have stirred something within him.
He was therefore happy when Mistress Laurentius came over to ask about their meal. Indavara and Simo complimented her with such enthusiasm that he could do no more than add his approval.
'Really delicious. My compliments.'
'Thank you very much.'
It was now dark outside and Cassius guessed they were into the second hour of night. The other patrons had left the parlour and the maid had almost finished tidying up.
'You two should really check on the horses.'
'Don't worry, Master Corbulo,’ said his host, ‘they'll be well taken care of.'
'Doubtless but it's a routine I like to stick to.'
Indavara was frowning. 'What? You don't-'
Simo put a hand on his arm as he rose. 'Come on, Patch will be glad to see us.'
'And you need to rest those aching limbs,' added Cassius.
Indavara offered a cynical look but departed with Simo. They both insisted on thanking Mistress Laurentius once again before leaving.
She smiled. 'Have they been with you long?'
'Simo – for four years.'
'That's your attendant?'
'Yes.'
> 'And the other fellow? He must have been in the army with all those scars.'
'Not quite. He was a gladiator. He's my bodyguard.'
'A gladiator? The poor man.'
‘He’s all right.’ Cassius held up his mug. 'Is there any more of the Caecuban?'
'Plenty.'
'Perhaps you'd join me?'
Mistress Laurentius looked at him for some time before relenting.
'Why not?'
She took his mug and the remaining dishes. 'I'll find some glasses.'
Cassius smiled. That was a good sign. He wasn't entirely sure why he was pursuing her; they would be leaving at dawn the following day. Was this a pointless distraction? He didn't care.
When she returned, Mistress Laurentius had done something with her hair. Cassius tried to guess her age; he reckoned she was somewhere between thirty-two and thirty-five.
She poured the wine and gave him his glass. 'My husband was in the army but I never heard of a centurion with a bodyguard. And I never
saw one so young.'
'An easy mistake to make. I work for Imperial Security but we hold the same rank – hence the helmet and the cloak.'
'Imperial Security – you don't seem the type.'
'You're not the first person to say that.'
She sat down and tapped her fingers against her glass before continuing. 'Gaius was killed fighting the Goths. Almost two years ago now.'
'My condolences. Did you already own this place?'
'Yes, he'd done eighteen years. Seven more and he would have come to run this place with me.'
'The empire has not been in a better position for decades; it would have been impossible without such sacrifice.'
She seemed to appreciate the sentiment. Cassius had meant every word.
'My father served too,’ added Mistress Laurentius. ‘He said the great gods will watch over me because of what my Gaius did.'
Cassius rarely commented on what the gods could or might do. It increasingly seemed to him a foolish pastime. 'It can’t be easy – up here on your own.'
'I'm not on my own. The staff are like my family. And both my parents are still alive. I get down to see them in Augusta when I can. Where do you hail from, Master Corbulo?'
'Cassius, please. And your name?'
'Mellisa.'
'Well, Mellisa, I-'
The inn door flew open and a man hurried in. Cassius was surprised that he seemed more interested in him than the proprietor.
'Good evening,’ said the interloper. ‘Are you the officer?'
The white-bearded man was at least sixty. It was clearly now raining because his face and clothes were wet.
'Might I ask who I'm dealing with?'
Mellisa stood up.
'Sorry, mistress,' said the man.
Mellisa gestured to him. ‘Councilman Chares.'
Chares was very out of breath. 'We need an army officer. Do you have a helmet?'
'Er, yes. Might I ask why?'
'A local dispute. And if it's not resolved, I think the members of the local auxiliary century are going to kill each other instead of the enemy.'
Cassius was annoyed by the intrusion but it didn’t seem like a matter he could easily ignore. 'What exactly do you need from me?'
'A decision.'
IV
It swiftly became evident that Cassius could and should help. After Indavara's abduction and the countless other dangers they had encountered, he thought it best to recruit the others. Simo of course did not protest but Indavara did little else as they threw on their cloaks to protect themselves from the rain and followed Chares. Cassius cursed several times himself; something told him he would not be spending any more time alone with Mellisa that night.
Hoods up, the four of them crossed Maredia's windblown main street and passed between two townhouses. Once past several shacks and what looked like a ruined temple, Cassius found himself on a narrow trail that ran towards the northern side of the pass.
'Sorry about the dark, sir,' said Chares. 'There wasn't time to fetch a torch. And I am terribly sorry about the inconvenience. If Centurion Camillus hadn't broken his ankle, I wouldn't have had to bother you. He's down in Augusta, getting it seen to.'
'And what about the other officers in the century?'
'That's where it gets complicated. The eighty men are spearmen – our area's contribution to the province's fighting force. Most of us around here are Salassi by birth.'
'I know the name. The local tribe that ruled before Rome.'
'Quite so. Most of the old ways have died off. There are certain gods and goddesses that we still honour but other than that the only aspect that really survives are old allegiances – hence the current problem. You see, there’s something of a divide between the families from Maredia and those from the outlying area. There's been a lot of mixing over the years but these long-standing differences are hard to stamp out.'
The path took a meandering route between an area strewn with boulders. Cassius realised that his eyes were adjusting, even though cloud cover had blocked out the moon.
'So what about these officers?'
'Well, you see the optio is from one of the village families, while the guard officer is from one of the mountain families. The dispute is between two auxiliaries, one from each side. Without the centurion present, the junior officers don't feel able to go against their own faction. The century is pretty much split down the middle. To be honest, I don't think it would have been a problem in peacetime but they're about to go off and fight.'
'You said the dispute concerned a marriage?'
'I didn't get all the details – by then another argument had broken out. I came in to Maredia to fetch some other councilmen but when I heard you were present, I simply had to ask. For all our differences, we respect the Roman rule of law. And the army has given us employment for many hundreds of years – through some difficult times. The century is supposed to march west tomorrow. We must have a resolution tonight or I fear the consequences. To be honest, I wish you were a bit older but the main thing is the helmet.'
'Caesar’s balls.' This odd development was getting odder by the moment.
'Sorry, sir, but such symbols are important. What was that you said about your title?'
Cassius knew from experience that it was often better not to cloud the issue, especially with provincials who had no idea what the Imperial Security Service was. 'Nothing. Centurion’s fine. Perhaps you can tell me why these soldiers meet in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?'
'You'll see – not far now. I shall go ahead and-'
'One more thing. Before they were subjugated, didn't the Salassi cause Caesar a lot of problems – bombarding a road he was trying to build?'
'Er, that's right, sir, yes. We can be a fiery bunch on occasion, especially the mountain folk.'
Chares hurried forward.
Cassius glanced back. All he could see of Indavara and Simo behind him were dim outlines and the gleam of their eyes.
'Got your stave, Indavara?'
'I have.'
'Blade?'
'Yes. Why?'
'Just checking.'
A quarter-hour later, they reached a ridge that looked down upon a shallow natural bowl located between two slopes. The rain had now stopped and many torches were alight, illuminating dozens of grim-faced men, not to mention the polished shafts of numerous spears. Opposite the ridge, a small party stood on the lip of the bowl. When Chares hailed them, all turned towards the new arrivals. Cassius had been asked to put his helmet on and as he followed Chares downward, he felt many eyes upon him.
The crowd separated to form a path but the tension among the men was palpable. As he continued across the bowl, Cassius adopted the stern yet disinterested countenance he used when confronted by large groups of soldiers: legionaries or auxiliaries.
Stepping up onto the far edge, he found himself facing two men of around forty.
'Guard officer Paulus,' said Chares.
'Optio Hortensius.'
Hortensius seemed a tad more friendly, and Cassius detected an air of relief upon his face.
He turned towards the bowl and realised that the men were silent. They were sheltered from the wind here so his every word would be amplified.
Chares seemed keen to get discussions under way. 'Well then-
'Not here,' said Cassius. 'We shall talk first amongst ourselves.'
He looked at Paulus and Hortensius, neither of whom appeared happy.
Chares replied: 'Sir, it is customary in the event of such a dispute for all discussions to be held openly, to avoid the possibility of … misunderstanding or deceit.'
'Centurion, we need to hear it all!' This voice came from the crowd.
'Who is addressing me?' asked Cassius, peering down into the bowl. Somebody passed a torch to a bearded fellow only ten feet away.
'Bion,' said Chares, ‘one of the two parties in dispute.’
After a couple of shouts from the far side of the bowl, another man came forward with a torch.
'And the other,' said Chares, 'Livius.'
Cassius raised his voice, taking care to keep his tone deep and authoritative. He knew from Simo’s observations that he had successfully removed some of the more distinguished notes over time. He believed this to be a circumspect approach and had no difficulty adjusting when conversing with men of his own class.
'I shall take the name of the next man who speaks out of turn. That name will be passed on to your prefect, along with a charge of disobedience. This is all highly irregular, so I shall remind you men that you have taken oaths of loyalty to the Roman Army. This issue will be solved swiftly and fairly and tomorrow you will march east as instructed. I can only imagine how embarrassed Centurion Camillus will be that his men acted in such a way. In the interests of haste, perhaps it is best that I hear directly from the two parties concerned. Any objections?'
