by Nick Brown
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘How long?’
‘Only two or three days.’
Volosus was tempted to still take her. There were other things he could do.
But perhaps this was the will of the gods. Perhaps he should focus simply on his mission in the interim. Once he had what he needed from Dolabella, he would be in the mood for a celebration.
‘Very well.’ He put his hand around her neck and pulled her closer. ‘But I will have you, girl. There is no escaping it. Kiss me.’
Her lips met his: as soft and sensual as he had expected.
‘Kiss me properly.’
When she gave him her tongue, he took full advantage.
Afterward, he opened the door and ushered her back inside.
‘Goodnight, Aphrodite.’
‘Goodnight, sir.’
Only when she was sure he was gone, did Ama sit on her bed and allow Ioanna to treat her. The girl cleaned the small wound she had made at the top of her thigh with the bronze knife, then wrapped a cloth bandage around it.
‘You won’t be able to stop him,’ whispered Ioanna. ‘I’ve seen how he looks at you.’
‘I’ll stab him if I have to.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve had enough. I’m not letting that animal do what he wants to me. You saw what they did to those soldiers and that poor old man.’
The prisoner reminded Ama of her grandfather. It could never be right to treat someone like that.
Ioanna took her hands. ‘You’ve seen what he’s like. It’s best to give in.’
‘You’re just a maid. What would you know?’
It wasn’t only what she’d seen of Volosus:
The view from the fortress window had reminded her of how huge the world was. She was seldom let out of the brothel by Mistress Damianos and that beautiful view had reminded her that there were countless places to go; countless places to hide; countless places to forget the past and start again.
‘I’ve had enough of giving in. I’m no slave.’
X
The village of Lavona seemed to be under occupation. There were more soldiers than civilians, mostly on the main street that led to the bridge and the western side of the Rhone. Having rested for only two hours in the last day and night, Cassius wanted nothing more than to find an inn and fling himself onto a bed, but there was work to do. His party of four was met at the edge of the village by a cavalry guard officer on foot. Cassius had just donned his scarlet cloak though he knew he might soon be dispensing with it.
‘Morning, sir,’ said the guard officer.
‘Morning,’ said Cassius as he dismounted. ‘Officer Corbulo, Second Parthian.’
‘Do you have anything to confirm your identity, sir? Sorry – orders.’
Cassius rolled his eyes and turned to Simo, who swiftly retrieved the spearhead from a saddlebag.
‘Ah. Very good, sir. Are you here because of the abduction?’
‘Yes. Is Decurion Umbrius present?’
‘No, sir. He left at first light with our main force.’ The guard officer pointed between Cassius and Simo. ‘Back there, at the encampment, is the local officer, a Centurion Nazerius.’
Cassius had spied the camp on their way past. Saplings had been planted to obscure it even from the road but they were not yet tall or thick enough.
‘Do you know the latest on the missing man?’
‘No, sir.’
By now, the others had also dismounted. Cassius waved them over.
‘Simo, Indavara – get the mounts watered and fed.’
‘Accommodation, sir?’
‘Don’t worry about it yet. Enca, with me.’
The guide gave another of his cordial bows. To his credit, he looked far less weary than the younger men.
‘You’ll want these, I expect, sir.’
Simo had taken Cassius’s sword and crested helmet from his master’s saddle. Cassius slung the sword belt from his right shoulder over his left hip and set off at a swift march, carrying the helmet. He hated wearing the accursed thing but it was a perpetually powerful symbol; very useful when dealing with the regular army – officers and men. Cassius and Enca swiftly retraced their steps back along the road then took the well-worn track that led across lush pasture to the partially-hidden encampment.
The scout spoke up: ‘Last time I was here, they’d only just started clearing the ground for this place.’
‘You said you know the area well?’
‘Reasonably.’
‘How many ways west from the other side?’
‘Several, but only one proper road. It eventually meets the main route from Lugdunum to Nurtium.’
‘How far to the Nurtium road?’
‘Around forty miles.’
‘That’s something, at least.’ Even if Dolabella’s abductors had moved quickly, there was a slim chance that Umbrius and his cavalry might catch up.
The encampment was protected by a ditch, rampart and timber palisade. As he approached the gate, Cassius put on the helmet and tied the buckle. He was met by another guard officer and demanded to see Nazerius immediately. As it happened, the centurion was close by and hurried over. Despite his sturdy build and immaculate appearance, his grim expression hinted at a desperate few hours.
‘From the Second, you say?’
‘Under direct orders from Prefect Venator. He’s an old friend of the general and wants to do everything possible to help.’
‘I believe everything is being done. Decurion Umbrius set off before dawn with the remainder of the general’s bodyguard. Gods willing they’ll find some trace of these bastards.’ Nazerius rubbed the back of his neck. ‘They’re bound to run into enemy units before long but apparently Prefect Gratidius ordered him to find Dolabella or die trying.’
‘Prefect Venator was of the opinion that we would find the general quickly or not at all.’
Nazerius nodded and ushered Cassius into the shadows of the palisade, away from Enca and the guard officer. ‘He was inspecting the lines, I know that much. But there’s more to it, isn’t there? For Gratidius to risk an entire cohort of cavalry for one man?’
‘So I gather.’ If the decurion hadn’t seen fit to reveal Dolabella’s true importance, Cassius didn’t believe it was his place to do so. ‘Which is probably also why I’ve been sent here.’
‘Why didn’t they tell us?’ said Nazerius. ‘Ampelius would not have let him leave the camp, had he known.’
‘Ampelius?’
‘Our senior centurion here. They killed him too. And Dolabella’s nephew.’
‘Sorry to hear that. I suppose the general must also take some responsibility for his own safety. Can you brief me on exactly what happened?’
‘I can but time is-’
‘I know. It’s been thirty-six hours. But I believe Prefect Venator sent me to take an investigative approach. In case the decurion fails.’
‘Investigative?’
‘I’m attached to the Second Parthian as an intelligence officer. I’m with Imperial Security.’
There was no mistaking the fear in Nazerius’s eyes. Fundamentally, the Service existed to serve the emperor and the empire; historically sometimes to the detriment of the army. Cassius couldn’t blame the centurion for assuming he was there to identify those accountable for the abduction.
He held up a hand. ‘I’m not here to apportion blame. My only aim is to help find Dolabella. I’m sure we can agree that it’s in both our interests to do all we can.’
After a moment, Nazerius nodded.
Cassius offered his forearm. ‘Cassius.’
‘Marcus.’
Lavona seemed gripped by tension and fear. Cassius guessed that soldiers and civilians alike would view the abduction as a prelude to battle. Blood had been spilled here and surely all knew that such a valuable crossing point would be a target for both sides. Few civilians showed their faces. The soldiers cast wary, curious glances at the two officers now walking along the main stree
t.
‘I did manage to piece together the events before Umbrius arrived,’ said Nazerius. ‘But the priority was of course speed. I gave him the descriptions of the suspects.’
‘Which is?’
‘A man of around fifty, his bodyguard – a very large fellow by all accounts, two attendants, and one very beautiful girl. I’ve surmised that the girl was there to tempt Dolabella himself but the general actually sent his nephew off with her.’
Nazerius stopped outside an inn called The Apollo.
‘What was the nephew doing here?’ asked Cassius.
‘He was serving with a unit somewhere upriver and Dolabella decided to take him with him for this leg of his trip – for experience. Poor sod was found dead just there.’ Nazerius pointed at the ground not far from the inn. ‘I assume they killed him here then went back for Dolabella.’
‘Who was on his way back to the camp, taken at the spot you just showed me.’
‘Yes, where Ampelius and the two bodyguards were found. They must have been pretty efficient. Alarm wasn’t raised for two hours after they left The White Pony.’
Cassius and Nazerius had just passed the tavern, which was within a stone’s throw of the inn.
‘I was asleep,’ added Nazerius. ‘The sentries were concerned that the officers hadn’t come back. By the time I got over here, they’d found the bodies.’
‘So the suspect and his party were staying there?’ Cassius nodded towards The Apollo.
‘Yes. I’ve questioned the owner and the staff. They left around the fifth hour of night. They had a carriage. We assume Dolabella was inside.’
‘There must have been sentries at the bridge. They didn’t check inside?’
‘This man had some letter of authorisation from the Governor of Lugdensis. Probably a fake but the sentries had no reason to question it. As I said, if someone had deigned to inform us about the importance of our guest, we might have taken more precautions. It appears someone on the other side is rather better informed than we are.’
‘I’ll need to talk to all the staff at The Apollo and The White Pony.
Every last person.’
‘Of course.’
‘What about the bodies?’
‘I had the innkeeper store them in an outhouse. The nephew appears to have been cut across the throat by a knife. The others were killed with a heavier weapon. Big sword, perhaps. Do you want to see them?’
‘No,’ said Cassius, already on his way to The Apollo. ‘First I need to talk to the innkeeper.’
Nazerius agreed to round up all the other witnesses. Enca went off to refresh himself in the river and, with the horses now stabled, Cassius took Simo and Indavara with him to the inn. As they entered, the proprietor hurried out from behind his counter.
‘Morning, sir. What can I do for you?’
‘I have some questions – about your guests.’
Cassius caught a flash of fear in his eyes before he spoke. ‘Again? I’ve already been-’
‘You played host to a group of enemy agents who abducted a very senior army officer. You will answer questions as many times as we see fit. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir. Apologies.’
‘After I’ve spoken to you, I want to interview every person who had dealings with them: maids, stable lads. Everyone.’
The innkeeper nodded. ‘I’ll tell the wife.’
‘You do that.’
Cassius had already given his helmet to Simo before entering. As the innkeeper departed, he now removed his cloak and hung it over a chair. The parlour was empty and he chose a large table beside a window. Simo sat next to him and reached into Cassius’s leather satchel, retrieving a wooden writing block, a piece of paper and a stick of charcoal, ready to take notes. Indavara leaned against a wall. Cassius often found it useful to have him on hand for such occasions. Though not quite the specimen he’d once been, his scarred body and glowering presence usually guaranteed cooperation.
The innkeeper returned, blowing his nose into a grimy handkerchief. Though Nazerius had already done so, Cassius began by taking descriptions of all five members of the party. Two in particular the innkeeper was able to describe in some detail: a ‘fair-haired giant’ and a ‘remarkable beauty’. The other man, who sounded like an attendant, was notable only for a blemish on his face. The female servant was ‘plain and very quiet’.
‘What about the older man?’
‘About fifty. Short, grey hair. The wife seemed to think he was handsome.’ The innkeeper shrugged. ‘Very well-attired. Good tipper. A gentleman, despite his occupation.’
‘Which is?’
‘You know – purveyor of women. I wasn’t sure to begin with. But before he left he said he’d had no luck with her – had to move on.’
‘You didn’t think that was suspicious? In the fifth hour of night?’
‘None of my business.’
‘What name did he use?’
‘Master Centenius. Didn’t catch any of the others, though I think the giant might have been called Gregor.’
‘How long were they here for?’
‘One day – arrived the previous evening.’
‘What did they do with themselves?’
‘Stayed in their rooms most of the time. The attendant – the man – went out a few times. The night they left they went across to The White Pony. Next thing I know, I hear something going on at the stable. I went to ask and that’s when he told me they were leaving.’
‘You saw nothing amiss? Think carefully.’
‘No. Like the other officer said, they must have had the man in the carriage by then. Didn’t hear nothing when they killed the other fellow right outside. Neither did anyone else. Wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen the body myself.’ The innkeeper looked out of the window and shook his head.
‘What about the rooms? Are they occupied?’
‘No. Don’t suppose I’ll get another bloody guest until the fighting’s over now.’
‘Have you cleaned the rooms?’
‘The wife did.’
She had returned with the other staff and was watching from behind the counter. Cassius waved her over.
‘You’ll show my man here the rooms they used.’ He turned to Indavara. ‘Check everywhere. Everything.’
With a nod, Indavara followed the wife across the parlour to the stairs.
As Cassius turned back, the innkeeper blew his nose again.
‘Did you overhear them talking about anything? Anything at all?’
‘Nothing I can think of. They ate in their rooms. Like I said – kept themselves to themselves.’
‘That’s it for now,’ said Cassius. ‘Who’s next?’
He questioned the wife and the maid, neither of whom could add much to the innkeeper’s account. Cassius was about to question the last member of staff, the stable lad, when Indavara returned from upstairs.
‘Well?’
‘Just this. Found it under a bed.’
Indavara held several fibres up to the light. Cassius examined them: most were pink in colour; they felt like a soft cotton.
‘What’s that?’
The innkeeper’s wife walked over. Cassius showed her the fibres.
‘From her stola. The girl wore a pink stola. Lovely piece of cloth. She looked like a princess.’
‘How would you know what a princess looks like?’ asked her husband.
The maid also came over. ‘I’ve seen stolas like that before. Not always pink but that style.’
‘Where?’ asked Cassius.
‘My previous mistress bought two for her daughters. There’s a man who makes them on the other side of the river.’
‘Where exactly?’
‘I don’t know.’
Cassius turned to the wife but she shrugged.
‘Did it look new?’
‘I would say so,’ replied the wife.
The inn door opened and Centurion Nazerius entered, closely followed by a middle-aged man and a younger woman.
>
‘These are the two from The White Pony. I’ll have someone fetch the sentries.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cassius.
Before them, there was the stable lad to interview. Other than remarking on the quality of Master Centenius’s carriage, he had nothing of interest to offer.
Cassius spoke to the new pair together, starting once more with the descriptions. The tavern owner then told his tale, detailing how the attendant (again no name had been given) paid two denarii on his master’s behalf for the privilege of using the establishment to display the girl. They had arrived around the second hour of night and stayed until the fifth. The tavern owner clearly knew Ampelius and his men well but described Dolabella as the ‘elderly officer’, concluding his account as the general purchased the girl’s services for his nephew. The two groups had left at the same time. That was the last he’d heard of them until being roused from his bed upon the discovery of the body.
Further questioning elicited only one more useful piece of information. The beauty was named Aphrodite. Just as Cassius turned his attention to the female servant, Nazerius came in with four legionaries. Cassius stood and spoke to the centurion.
‘Did you know the girl was called Aphrodite?’
‘Yes. Very original, eh?’
‘It might still be of use to us. Chances are this Centenius got her from a brothel. Can you ask around about the places over the river, and the girl? Especially the auxiliaries.’
‘Will do. Have you made any progress?’
‘I fear not but we must keep going.’
Nazerius departed once more.
Cassius told the four soldiers to sit and wait.
As he himself sat down, Indavara caught his eye. ‘All right if I get us some lunch?’
‘Please do. I’m starving. But nothing too heavy or I’ll fall asleep.’
Indavara headed for the counter.
Cassius glanced at Simo, who was onto his second stick of charcoal. He didn’t bother to check the notes. After many such interviews, the attendant knew what information to record, what to omit.
Cassius turned his attention to the maid, who was wringing her hands anxiously.
