by Jane Finnis
“These—ah—intuitive feelings are important, of course, my dear,” Clarus said, patting his sister’s hand. “And for that reason I have not given Ostorius a definite answer, but told him I must consider it, and talk to you about it. But it would be an extremely suitable match for you, you know. They’re a good Roman family, and wealthy in both money and land, as I understand it. Once they’ve established themselves here, they’re going to be important people in this part of Britannia.”
“Not as important to me as you are, Publius. You need somebody here to run your house and act as hostess when you entertain. I enjoy doing that, and I’d much rather go on doing it than be tied to Ostorius Vividus.”
“My dear, you know I don’t want you to be unhappy. But I think you’re being a little over-hasty, since we hardly know the Ostorii as yet. Once Aurelia and Quintus have had time to do a little investigating for us…”
“Yes, of course. I know you’ll both do your best, won’t you?”
We both assured her again that we would, and I sensed that our meeting was over, and it was time to be on our way. “If you’ll excuse us, I think we should be heading back to the mansio now. You know what it’s like when you’ve been away from home for two days, you come back and find at least three days’ work has piled up in your office.”
Clarilla smiled. “Just before you go, Aurelia, I’ve made a copy of that recipe you wanted for preserving grapes through the winter. If you come along with me to the kitchen, I’ll give it you now.”
“Recipe?” My mind was as blank as an unwritten note-tablet.
“Yes. You said you’d give it to your cook to try.” She gazed at me intently, while I racked my brains and completely failed to remember asking for a recipe. And why would I want to think about grapes at this time of year?
“It really won’t take long,” she said, and her voice, usually so warm and easy, held an underlying note of—what? Anxiety? Warning? Desperation?
Sometimes I’m so slow I’d have trouble keeping pace with a tortoise. Clarilla must be wanting to talk to me on my own, and this was her way of getting me away from her brother. I stood up. “Of course! I’m amazed you’ve persuaded your chef to part with one of his famous recipes…”
“There’s nothing more important than good food.” Clarilla chattered brightly as we went out into the corridor, and headed not for the kitchen, but for her own small study. She closed the door firmly once we were inside, and we sat down.
“Aurelia, I’m sorry to drag you away in that cloak-and-dagger fashion, but I need a private word. Private from Publius, I mean, not from Quintus. You and he are my only hope.”
“Gods, Clarilla, what is it? You know we’ll help if you need us. Is it about this proposed marriage with Vividus? I could see you’re not keen on it, but surely Clarus won’t force you into it against your will?”
“That’s part of it. I know my brother wants the match, but he would never compel me to marry someone I really hate, and anyway he couldn’t. I have money of my own, left by my late husband’s will, so I can do as I please. But I’m hoping—I’m wishing, if that doesn’t sound too horrible—that you find something about those Ostorii that would make Publius consider them an unsuitable connection.”
“I can promise you Quintus and I will find out everything we can about the whole Ostorius family. If they have any skeletons in their clothes-chests, you’ll be the first to hear.”
“Thank you. But I want to ask you to help over something else, something concerning a favourite young relative of ours. It’s Bodvocus’ daughter Elli. She’s in some sort of trouble and has written to me begging me to visit her. I can’t go immediately, because Publius is giving a big banquet here in a few days and I am to be his hostess as usual. And anyway, Publius has forbidden me to interfere in Elli’s problems, for fear of offending Bodvocus.” She smiled. “So any action I do take will have to be discreet.”
“Point taken. Has Elli told you what sort of trouble she’s in?”
“She’s in love with one man, and betrothed to another.”
I sighed. “Ah. She’s promised to Coriu, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
“I heard it was more a marriage of convenience than a love match. Who’s the lad she’s in love with?”
She replied with another question. “Did you know that Magnus has a nephew called Aquilo? A younger boy, and not in the least military like Vividus.”
“Magnus did mention him. But—you’re saying Elli is in love with the youngest Ostorius boy?”
“I think so. She hasn’t mentioned any names in her latest letter, but earlier this year when she wrote, she was singing his praises very loudly.”
“And you want me to find out if it really is Aquilo she’s fallen for, and discourage her?”
“I don’t know about discouraging her. I haven’t met Aquilo, but I’ve heard a little about him. By all accounts he’s a thoroughly likeable young man, quite different from his brothers and his uncle. He’s never been in the army, so he hasn’t an ounce of military ambition. He says he just wants to live peacefully with everyone. Everyone, settlers and Parisi.”
“All Magnus said about him, rather disparagingly, was that he likes music and writes poetry, and wants to go and study in Greece. That made me like the lad already.”
She nodded. “It appears that he’s the most civilised member of the family. Could you find a way to meet him while you’re staying with Albia? And then give me your honest opinion about the boy?”
“I’m sure I can manage that. Candidus and Albia are on good terms with all their neighbours.”
“Oh, I’d be so grateful. I trust your judgment, you’re not easily taken in. Then I’ll know whether I should be encouraging Elli or dissuading her.”
“Do you want me to visit Elli too, and hear her side of the story?”
“Oh, would you? Could you?”
“I don’t see why not. If you give me a letter for her, or perhaps a small present, that’ll give me an excuse for a visit to Bodvocus’ place without making him suspicious.”
“I will. I’ll write a note with a small gift, and have one of our boys bring it to you at the Oak Tree. And I’ll get Publius to write a short letter to Bodvocus, then you’ll have a chance to meet him too. I won’t mention Elli, but I can persuade Publius that you ought to meet our relatives, to help with your investigations, and he’ll write you a letter of introduction.”
“Excellent. What’s Bodvocus like?”
“Pleasant enough, in a rather lofty way. His family is very old and very high-born, so he looks down his nose at most of the world.”
“Not you and Clarus, though, surely.”
“Oh no, we’re family. If it wasn’t for that, I don’t suppose we’d feel we have much in common with him. He’s quite old-fashioned, prefers the traditional ways of doing things. Even to the spelling of his name—ending it in -os, as his forefathers did, not in the Roman style, ending in –us.” She smiled. “He gets very annoyed if Romans call him Bodvocus. Which many of them do.”
“Including the Ostorii, I expect.”
“Coriu’s not a bad young man at all,” Clarilla mused, “and I think Elli would have been happy enough with him if she hadn’t met Aquilo. You know, the poets go on ad nauseam about the joys of true love, but in real life it can be rather an inconvenient emotion, don’t you think?”
There was more, but that was the gist, and I was longing to talk to Quintus about it. But Clarilla had made me promise to tell nobody but Quintus, so I couldn’t discuss it in front of Titch. However, we could discuss our latest travel plans.
“So I’m off to see Albia, and you’re off to visit Ostorius Magnus,” I said to Quintus. “You’ll be setting off tomorrow, presumably?”
“I could go today.”
“If you wait till tomorrow, I’ll come with you. I need a few hours here before I disappear again. Margarita’s very good, but I can’t just leave her to do eve
rything.”
“All right. Getting to know the Ostorius family can wait another day.”
“Excuse me,” Titch spoke up, “but is this the same Ostorius family that came to buy horses from you the other day? Me dad was telling me about Uncle Magnus.”
“Yes, the same. Why, do you know them?”
“Only by reputation. I hope you got paid for the horses.”
“I did, yes. Why? Tight with their money, are they?”
“Magnus is what you might call a legend in the legions.” He stopped. “I don’t want to speak out of turn if they’re friends of yours. I was just interested, that’s all.”
“They’re not special friends,” Quintus said. “So come on, why is Magnus a legend?”
“He’s the greediest man you’d ever want to meet. He’s got the name Magnus Midas, because he wishes everything he touches could turn to gold. What actually happens is, everything gold he touches turns into thin air and vanishes.”
“He steals, in plain Latin.”
“So they say. It was never proved, otherwise he wouldn’t have made centurion. You didn’t mind me mentioning it, did you?”
“Not at all, no. It’s interesting.”
Nothing more was said till we were through Oak Bridges and almost at the main highway, where we’d turn left towards the mansio. Then Titch stopped the mules and turned to look full at Quintus. “Could I talk to you before we get back? It’s a bit private.”
“Yes. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking on what you said this morning, about how I could serve the Empire even if I’m not in the army. Like you do, did you mean, investigating for the Governor?”
“Something like that, yes. But I investigate for Caesar, not for any particular provincial governor.”
Titch said slowly, “But the Governor here thinks a lot of you, doesn’t he?”
Quintus didn’t answer, so I did. “Yes, that’s right.”
“And they do in the army too, them as has heard your name. They say you help keep the Empire safe.”
“You’ve seen me at work a time or two. Do you think that’s what I do?”
“I reckon it is. You stop conspiracies, and catch rebels. You fight enemies inside the Empire, while the army goes out to fight ’em on the frontier.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“But you don’t always work in Brigantia, do you? Or even in Britannia?”
He shook his head. “I’m not attached to any particular province, so I have to work anywhere I’m sent, like you did in the army. I think the chance to see the world is one of the good things about the job. The pay’s not bad either.” He paused. “Could you see yourself doing the sort of work I do?”
“I…I’m not sure.”
“I’ll spell it out in plan Latin. I’d like to offer you a job as an imperial investigator. You’d work for me to start with, while you were learning, but eventually you’d be given assignments on your own. You said you want work where you feel you can make a difference. I can offer you that. What do you say?”
“I say thank you for the offer.” He glanced down at his left hand. “But do you really think I can do it, now I’ve been wounded?”
“Why not? You can still use a sword, can’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And ride a horse?”
“Aye. Not both at once, though, and I can’t carry a shield properly.”
“How many investigators have you seen charging about on horseback brandishing swords and shields?”
Titch laughed. “So what would the work be? From day to day, like?”
“No two days are the same, that’s another good thing about it. I look for enemies of the Empire, and destroy them when I can.”
“Domitian Caesar…” Titch stopped. “I don’t want to speak treason.”
“Domitian’s dead, so nothing you say about him can be treason now. If you were going to remark that he was paranoid, and made arbitrary decisions, and took out his personal spite on individuals, I’d say yes, he did.”
“But did he make you investigators do that for him? Get rid of people because Caesar didn’t like them, not because they’d done wrong?”
“I think the men based at court probably had to sometimes. I never did. I made sure I stayed out of Rome, and out of court politics. I only went after people I believed were trying to subvert the Empire.”
“Quintus,” I put in, “if you two want to finish this discussion privately, I can easily walk back to the mansio from here.”
“Don’t go on our account, Aurelia. If Titch doesn’t know by now that you’re good at keeping other people’s secrets, he’s not the man I take him for. All right, Titch?”
“Of course. Can I ask another question? Would I get some real investigating work to do even when I’m just starting, or would I be like a servant, looking after the horses and that?”
Quintus said, “You wouldn’t be my servant, but you’d probably have to see to the horses now and then. You’d get real investigating, as you call it, but remember that much of the work would be boring and not very glamorous. I’ll tell you what I look for when I’m recruiting junior investigators, shall I? First, I need men who are quick with their wits as well as with their blades. That’s the most important thing. Second, I need men who believe that defending the Empire is a worthwhile occupation. I know you well enough to be sure you could pass muster on both of those.”
“Yes, I reckon I could.”
“The next point is harder. I need men who’ll usually do what they’re told without arguing, and yet have enough sense to recognise the rare occasion when they must disregard orders and use their own initiative. In the past, you’ve probably erred too much on the side of going your own way, but I imagine the army’s knocked some discipline into you. Am I right?”
Titch half-smiled. “The army isn’t keen on lads using their own initiative, even if they turn out to be right.”
“And last but not least, I need men who are brave. I don’t mean fools who aren’t afraid of anything, because a man without any fear at all is a danger to himself and his comrades, and probably won’t live long. But men who, in spite of being scared, get on with their assignment and see it through. Now, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, which would have broken many soldiers, so there’s no shame in owning up if your army experience has made you, shall we say, a bit more cautious about combat.” He looked the lad squarely in the eyes. “If after everything you’ve suffered, the idea of working with danger, putting yourself at risk, doesn’t appeal…”
Titch flared up like a volcano. “I’m no coward, and you’ve no right even suggesting I am! Cautious about combat? Well naturally I’m cautious, like any sensible soldier, but I’ve not lost me nerve. By Mars, if anyone else but you had suggested I had, they wouldn’t live to brag about it after. So you get this straight. I can take on any job and not let anything frighten me out of it, if I’ve a mind to. I can be the best investigator in the Empire, if I reckon it’s worthwhile. Just because I’ve had to leave the army, that does not make me into a coward. Have you got that?”
Quintus answered softly, “I never said it did.”
They stared at one another in silence. Then Titch began to smile, a real smile that showed in his eyes. “Why, you cunning, devious old…by the gods, I walked into that one, didn’t I?”
“I’d say you rode into it.” Quintus was smiling too.
“I’ve never in me life met such a…no, perhaps I’d better not call you what you deserve.”
“Feel free. I’ve been called most things in my time.”
“It wouldn’t be right. If you’re going to be me boss.”
Chapter XV
The forecourt was filling up nicely. Hitched to the railings were several native ponies, a couple of farm carts, and one official gig, and the main door stood wide open, showing the bar-room more than half full.
Quintus helped me
down, and turned to Titch, saying softly, “Get something to eat, and we’ll do the same. Then come and find me. We’ve got plans to make for tomorrow.”
Titch saluted. “Yes, sir.”
“No salutes. We’re both civilians now, working with the army but not part of it. If anybody asks, we’re engineers from the Governor’s highways and bridges secretariat, and I’m giving you training in surveying and designing bridges. We can’t disguise from your friends that you’ve left the cavalry, but we can stop them finding out what you’ve decided to do instead.”
Titch grinned. “I’m sure anyone can design a bridge. Just hammer a few stakes into a river bed and lay some planks flat on top to walk on. It can’t be that hard, can it?”
Quintus laughed. “There you are, you’re a natural. I’ll show you some of the basic skills as we go along. For what we’re doing now, it’s a very useful cover, because it lets a man go almost anywhere.”
“Is it all right if I tell me dad?”
“Yes, Secundus knows the work I do. But remind him if he breathes a word to anyone else, I’ll have his guts for catapult springs.”
“I will. And, Quintus Antonius, one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. I’ll not let you down.”
As soon as I could, I took Quintus somewhere private to tell him about Clarilla’s revelations. It was a perfect spring day, so we walked out behind the mansio and into the woods that slope down to the bank of our little river. The trees all had their spring leaves, and I marvelled at just how many different shades of green there are in a wood, from the pale new grass to the golden-green of the oak leaves. The path threaded its way more or less parallel with the river below, and we could see a couple of maids doing the day’s washing, and a short distance upstream one of the farm boys fishing. But there was nobody within earshot, so we sat down on a fallen log in the sunshine.