‘What?’ asked the girl.
‘Coins,’ Tullus said, ‘to pay taxes with.’
‘Oh, you found some of those, too, didn’t you, Math?’
‘Plenty,’ he said. ‘But wasn’t the Lady Helena there at the shrine too, Bridie? Did she offer something?’
Brighid nodded. ‘I believe she did. So if what she offered was brought here with my bracelet, and Valens sees it, he’ll know she’s been there. And she didn’t want him to. Remember, Tullus?’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘He’s not likely to recognise his wife’s jewellery.’
‘All the same, didn’t we ought to warn her? She might wish to retrieve it.’
‘That’s a tricky one,’ he said. ‘Telling a woman what her husband is up to is rarely a good idea. It’s obvious she doesn’t know about his thefts or she’d not have gone there, would she? But what I want to know is whether Valens is using forged coin to pay his taxes, or is he using it for some other purpose?’
‘Ahem!’ said Quintus. ‘I think it’s time we allowed our young friend to return to her mistress.’
‘Yes, I’d better go. She’ll be asking for me.’
‘Then listen to me, young lady. What you have done for us was extremely courageous, but it was also dangerous. And you have a young man in your room about whom questions will be asked.’
The girl smiled, shyly. ‘Not for the first time, sir.’
‘Nevertheless, I shall have two of my men escort you back to your mistress and they will take him away. I cannot have her chastising you over this.’ What he meant, but did not say, was that he didn’t want Valens to make enquiries about her or the young man.
‘Thank you, sir. My mistress intends us to return home tomorrow.’
It was as if she’d read his mind. ‘I’m relieved to hear it. We are all in your debt. Will you accept a small gift from me, as thanks?’
‘Indeed, sir. Thank you.’
Florian, Math and Brighid hugged her, asking her name, thanking her, and Quintus gave her two silver denarii, which, he told her, was bullion. He commanded an escort for the young lady, which pleased her just as much as the money.
‘Other purposes?’ said Quintus, resuming the conversation.
‘Well,’ said Tullus, holding out his beaker for more wine, ‘what he gleans from the shrine would hardly be enough to fill several chests with coin, would it? Maybe this has nothing to do with taxes. Maybe it’s more to do with payment for our friend Helm’s shady ventures, for instance.’
‘If that’s the case,’ said Quintus, ‘what does he offer Valens in return?’
‘Protection?’ said Math.
The others shrugged. It was hard to know what Helm had that Valens did not already have. ‘Have you no idea who attacked you at the goldsmith’s workshop?’ said Brighid. ‘Didn’t you see anything?’
‘Not a thing,’ said Math, touching his bandage. ‘but whoever it was knows how to take a man by surprise and to hit where it matters.’
‘And was strong enough,’ said Lucan, ‘to carry you all the way to the bath-house and put you in a sack. Could be anybody.’
‘Then perhaps it’s time we took another look,’ said Quintus. ‘If there was another man imprisoned there, who knows what else is there besides.’
Overwhelmed with relief at Math’s reappearance, alive and well, Brighid could see no reason why they need stay any longer in this dangerous place where the owner committed such terrible crimes. Understanding the message of her own intuition, its warnings and black-shadowed predictions, she knew that to stay would be to invite more trouble. Her time spent alone with Quintus had brought an unimaginable joy that had begun to fill her life with new emotions, new sensations and longings for more time with him, away from talk of taxes and abductions, thefts and murdered infants. But now the Tribune had placed her well down on his list of prime concerns, as men can do, and when they were alone she put it to him that they might return to Aquae Sulis. His reply was predictable. ‘No, Princess. Not yet. There are things I have to pursue.’
‘But it’s dangerous here. For all of us.’
‘Then perhaps I should send you back, until I’ve done.’
‘No! No, forget it. I shall stay as long as you’re here. We ought to hide Math, shouldn’t we? They must not know he’s been returned to us.’
‘I shall arrange for him to stay in Tullus and Lucan’s room. It’s plenty big enough and he’ll be guarded well. Florian will go with you to the baths.’
‘Can I come with you, my lord? To your treatment?’ she asked.
‘I think that would be appropriate.’
So, she thought, we have come to being appropriate now, after a night of fierce loving and not a wink of sleep. What am I doing here, exactly? Like a spark to dry brushwood, her indignation flared out of hand by his lordly attitude towards her offer.
‘Do you really?‘ she cried, loudly. ‘Well, let me tell you, my lord, that if a Brigantian Princess had offered to accompany me to watch with bated breath while I perform some stupid exercises that I don’t need, I would do more than think it was appropriate, I would consider myself honoured. I don’t make offers of that sort too often. On reflection, I think I shall go out and count the carp in the pools. That must be marginally more interest—’ The tirade had taken her as far as the door, but she was caught before her hand could reach the latch, and the word ‘interesting’ was cut off by the whoosh of air from her lungs as Quintus closed in on her, more like an antagonist than a lover.
He turned her to face him. It had not been her intention to anger him, but to shame him into admitting her value. It was, after all, what her father had drummed into her since she could remember. She raised a hand to push at him, but he took her wrist and pushed it back against the door, his face towering above her, dark eyes narrowed, commanding her attention. ‘Enough!’ he growled. ‘Simmer down, woman. Jove’s balls, but you fly off the handle faster than a flea. Listen to me. I know this business has unsettled you. It’s all happened faster than any of us expected, even me. But if you want to stay here, you’re going to have to calm down and do as I say. The last thing I need at the moment is a woman to—’
‘You needed a woman last night, Roman. And yesterday, too.’ Her voice shook as a tear forced its way from one eye.
He drew a deep breath, remembering. Then his tone softened and the grip upon her relaxed, his hand sliding to brush away the offending tear. ‘Don’t weep, lass,’ he said. ‘That’s not what I meant. You know it isn’t.’
‘I’m not weeping,’ she croaked. ‘You’re hurting me, that’s all.’
‘And you think I’d forgotten your worth. Well, I haven’t. You led us to Watercombe, didn’t you? That’s been worth weeks of searching.’
‘Thank you. I’m relieved to know I’ve saved you some time, my lord. You’ve already shown me how important that is to you.’
He knew from the bold stare of her eyes exactly what she referred to, but he would not be drawn into that discussion, seeing how they could both be wounded by it. He also saw that she was not inclined to be mollified, for he had not been able to conceal his natural urgency to move things on. ‘We shall not spend a moment longer in this place than we have to,’ he said. ‘And you will obey me as the others do, Princess, or be sent back to town.’ He must have guessed at the disobedient retort behind her stony expression, his next move being to prevent it with a gagging kiss that left her gasping for breath, meant to reinforce his mastery over her as much as to curb her retaliation. He could not have known how he had merely fuelled her resentment by his highhandedness which, although appropriate in his dealings with subordinates, was hardly consistent with the equality they had shared so recently.
It was unfortunate that Quintus expected her to understand his methods, and equally unfortunate that, having lived until now the life of a sheltered aristocrat, Brighid was still sadly innocent of the ways of men like him. ‘You will accompany me to the gymnasium,’ he told her, watching the violet-
tinged eyelids slowly open, ‘and let’s have an end to this nonsense.’
She glared without deigning to answer.
Oh, yes, Tribune. Do let’s have an end to this nonsense.
But before they could reach the gymnasium where, he assumed, the next phase of his healing would begin, they were intercepted by Helena Coronis bringing with her a whiff of perfume on the hem of her flowing linen chiton. A long scarf swathed her head and neck and hung almost to the ground, its folds not quite covering the glossy brown hair above her brow and the gold pendant earrings. A large golden brooch shaped like a crescent moon sat upon one shoulder, making Brighid wonder if this was a good time to tell her about the item she might have lost.
She was forestalled by the Lady Helena’s greeting and by her immediate revelation that the temple priest had been to see her concerning the sudden disappearance of the Tribune last night. And while she was relieved to see that he was still with them, she thought that the priest would appreciate an explanation. If the Tribune would be so kind.
They strolled along to the spacious atrium while Quintus made out a convincing excuse concerning the unhygenic conditions that were some way from what he was expecting. Did the Lady Helena know of the state of the beds they were supposed to sleep in? The bed linen? The filth? He had no wish to make a fuss, but he had been forced to abandon that particular treatment. He could show her the dust-covered boot, now in his possession, if she required evidence. And before she could demur, he had sent Florian off to get it and bring it back, not thinking, as Brighid did, that this was not the best time to launch, however politely, into a criticsm of the lady’s business.
She saw the deep flush of embarrassment that came only moments before the beautiful sorrowful eyes began to swim in tears, the head turned away, the trembling hand that came up to hold her scarf. When no response came from that direction, Quintus turned to look and was met with Brighid’s accusing green eyes daring him to say one more word.
He blinked, then led the way to a long marble bench set into a corner beneath the projecting roof where the rattle of a fountain in the centre of the pool would conceal their discussion. Chivalrously, he held out a hand to her as she sat, beckoning to a nearby slave to bring water and beakers, arranging himself on the bench at an angle to hers.
From the lady’s other side, Brighid attempted to comfort her, understanding only too well how close to desperation she was. ‘It’s nothing,’ she whispered. ‘As a soldier, the Tribune must have slept in some …’ She stopped with a sigh. That analogy was not going to help. Brighid poured the water when it arrived, handing a beaker to their hostess first, making the most of the respite as they sipped.
Florian returned, dangling the disgusting boot by one of its leather thongs before placing it directly in front of Helena Coronis, quite unprepared for his master’s displeasure. ‘Pick it up, imbecillus!’ he snapped. ‘Bring it here.’
‘Is that it?’ whispered Helena Coronis, following its progress with her eyes. ‘Where did you find it, Tribune?’
With a quick glance at Brighid for approval, he turned it over to look at the sole. ‘I found it beneath the bed in my cubicle. I wonder if anyone might know the whereabouts of the owner who must have walked off wearing only one boot.’
‘I presume,’ she said, ‘that you did not accept the drink you were offered. There is a limit, you see, to the help I can give you. I would have warned you not to, but my husband made it impossible for me to reach you, or even send a message.’
Quintus glanced about him before answering. ‘Is Valens likely to see us in conversation, my lady?’
‘Not today. He went out on business early this morning. I never know when he’ll return. Tonight? Tomorrow?’
‘And your steward?’
‘He’s a good man. He’s been with me since my first marriage.’
‘And the priests?’
‘Are my husband’s men. They’re nothing to do with me, Tribune.’
‘Yet I seem to remember, my lady, that you recommended the temple and the dream-interpreters to us when you showed us round.’
‘Then you will also remember that my youngest daughter Carina was with us at the time. She tells my husband everything.’
‘Because he asks her?’
‘Yes, because her asks her. They’re very close.’ She had said nothing so far that was directly critical of her husband, yet Quintus and Brighid were in no doubt that she was telling them as clearly as she dared that all was not well at Watercombe under Valens’s supervision. That she was deeply afraid of him was also very obvious. Less apparent was the notion that she was letting slip information that could damage him although, as she had said, there was a limit.
Quintus thought, however, that she might be persuaded to show a more positive disloyalty. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you’ve seen this boot before, my lady?’ he said. ‘On one of your guests, perhaps?’
She needed no second look at it. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Her hand still shook as she sipped at the water, showing him the purple bruises on her wrist as the fabric fell away. ‘Yes, I know who it belongs to, Tribune. The man wore them under his toga, and I remember thinking how unusual, though I think he might have been the kind of man who lived by his own rules.’
‘His name, lady? Do you remember?’
‘Alex, was it?’
‘Alexius?’
‘Yes. yes, that’s it! A year ago, it was.’
‘And did you warn him not to drink the priest’s brew?’
The deep breath she took emerged as a sigh that could be heard above the noisy fountain, and her reply was slow to follow as if the words needed preparing. If the answer had been yes, they knew it would have come immediately. ‘It’s not as you think, Tribune,’ she said, still guarded.
‘Lady, you may already have guessed why I am here with my two assistants,’ Quintus said, leaning forwards to rest his arms along his thighs. ‘It would assist us greatly if you could tell us what is going on here at this beautiful place. It once belonged to you and your first husband, but now it appears to have grown out of your control, and beyond your wishes. We have already discovered things about Valens that are highly illegal, enough to remove him from your life for ever. For your co-operation in providing us with more evidence of his activities, I can guarantee that you would not be prosecuted. Now is your chance to put matters straight. Think of the safety of your daughters, too.’
He had touched a raw nerve there. Fortunately, there were few guests about and no one except them to hear the sob of anguish or to see the shaking of her shoulders. ‘You saw,’ she said, gulping back the tears, ‘how he looks at her, my darling Clodia, and what he threatens to do when he wishes to hurt me. A gladiatrix, of all things, for my lovely girl … and he could do it, too. She would do whatever he wanted. She worships him, and he knows it, and plays upon it. I’m so afraid for her.’
‘Then you must do something to help matters,’ he insisted, gently. ‘Will you tell me about the young men who disappear from Watercombe? About Alexius?’
‘A year ago, Tribune, I knew nothing about that business. If I’d known the priests were to be men chosen by my husband, I would not have approved of them working here, but he assured me they were honest and reputable and I was stupid enough to let it go, because I could not contend with his bullying. Then I found out that men were regularly disappearing. I knew my husband was involved in this, but it’s of no use to ask me why he needs them, or what he does with them, or where they go. I don’t ask. It’s safer for me that way. All I know for sure is that his friend Helm is also somehow involved. He comes to stay here for a few nights, then goes again.’ She looked at Brighid. ‘And when you appeared, Princess, I knew somehow that you must be the one he met when he went north a few weeks ago. He didn’t tell me what his business was up there, only that he’d seen a lovely woman with hair like fire.’
‘But he’s married to Dora,’ said Brighid, puzzled.
‘Yes, to please me. Dora is expe
cting my husband’s child. Helm has assured me that he will accept it, whatever sex it is.’
‘Why, lady?’ said Quintus.
‘As a favour to me,’ she said, looking down at her hands.
He did not press her further on that, though he could not imagine why a rough specimen like Helm would owe the Lady Helena a favour. As for not knowing the reason behind the abductions, he did not quite believe that either, for he knew she might have guessed, even if she had not asked. ‘And your husband’s friends at the tax office, my lady? Apart from Nonius, do you know who the others are?’
‘Then you’ll not have heard the news, Tribune,’ she said.
‘What news?’
‘About Nonius. My husband was told late last night that Nonius was pulled out of the river at Aquae Sulis. He’d died of stab wounds.’
‘Murdered?’ Quintus paused, watching her face. ‘Was your husband surprised?’
‘He hides his feelings when it’s convenient,’ she whispered.
He hoped she would say more, but her attention was caught by the figure of her elder daughter, whose arms were waving in excitement as she ran across the atrium. She stood up to meet her so that her message would not be shouted for all to hear. ‘Mama … Mama! It’s Dora! She’s started.’
‘Yes, I’ll come. Where is she? Please excuse me, Tribune. I think we may be occupied for the rest of the day. Princess, if you would.’
‘I’ll come, too, shall I?’
‘Er … would you allow me to send for you, when we need help?’
‘I shall be in the gymnasium with the Tribune.’
‘Oh … er, my lord, if I might suggest.?’
‘Yes?’
She turned back, away from her daughter’s hearing. ‘That you may be interested in seeing our workshops, after your treatment. Take your guards with you.’ Giving him no time to ask why he would need guards, she strode off to catch up with Clodia, her pale blue gown billowing out behind her.
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