by Nick Brown
With a bellow of rage, he stood, pulled the sword out of the ground and heaved it at the nearest tree.
It bounced off and fell into a clump of fern.
XXXVII
‘You would like to see her, I suppose – check she’s safe?’
‘Yes.’
Indavara and Simo were sitting on a low wall next to Diadromes’s stables, waiting. A young lad came out of the kitchens, hand covering a taper, and lit the four lanterns in the corners of the courtyard. Indavara glanced up at the purple, pink and yellow that now streaked the darkening sky.
‘Anything?’ Simo asked the lad, whom they had already consulted twice about progress within. They had seen messengers, clerks and gentlemen coming and going for the past two hours and weren’t even sure if Cassius had spoken to Diadromes yet.
‘Master’s still in his meeting,’ replied the lad before returning inside.
Indavara said, ‘If he’s not out soon, I’m leaving.’
‘I’m sure she’s all right,’ replied Simo. ‘The city seems to be getting back to normal.’
‘Really? What about that?’ Indavara pointed at a distant pall of smoke to the west. Apparently the weavers had set a factory ablaze and the authorities were struggling to bring it under control.
‘You should stay – at least see Master Cassius back to the tower. He has enough to worry about.’
‘Nobody wins every time.’
‘He was so close, though,’ said Simo.
‘We were close. It was me that found the coins, don’t forget. If it hadn’t been for the stupid bloody magistrate and his centurion mate we would have got to that villa in time.’
‘What will happen to the sergeant, do you think?’
‘Kallikres? Not our problem. Do you know he cried when he held that boy in his arms? There were a few of the fighters who went with other men. I’ve always thought it a bit strange.’
‘It is unnatural,’ said Simo. ‘A terrible sin and an affront to the Lord.’
‘Some sins are worse than others, Simo. How many have done violence today?’
‘Sometimes there seems to be no end to it.’
‘At least some of these folk – the weavers, for example – have a reason to do it.’ Indavara kicked his heel into the wall. ‘Gods, where is he?’
Cassius was waiting too. As if the trials of the night and morning hadn’t been enough, the fruitless pursuit and ensuing frustration had sapped him of any remaining energy. He was sitting on the bench under the pine tree, in the exact position Pomponianus had occupied two days previously. He wondered what the beleaguered magistrate was doing now.
One of Diadromes’s clerks had been out to tell him that the deputy would have a few spare minutes soon but that had been an hour ago. The man at least had some other good news: according to latest reports the streets were quieter and further serious incidents had been averted.
Cassius looked down at his scratched, bruised and filthy legs. He could smell himself – horse, probably, or perhaps still the stench of the settling basin. He stuck a finger in his itchy left ear and scraped out more mud – it seemed impossible to get it all out.
A few minutes earlier he had tried drafting his letter to Abascantius and Marcellinus but his addled mind was incapable. He still couldn’t believe he had been so easily fooled. If only he’d simply dismounted and lifted those blankets he would have found this sly brother and sister. Still, they had outwitted everyone else too, and if it hadn’t been for the delay in Berytus he felt sure they would have been apprehended. In any case, it was too much to think about now; the letter could wait until the morning.
‘Crispian!’
Diadromes had at last appeared on the terrace, accompanied by a quartet of assistants.
With a sigh, Cassius dragged himself up and ambled along the path. When he arrived, Diadromes dismissed the men, one of whom pestered him with two final questions before returning inside and pulling a heavy curtain across the doorway.
The deputy magistrate was standing up very straight, as if resisting the forces piling pressure upon him. Below his eyes, the skin was puffy and grey.
Cassius imagined he didn’t look much better. ‘Long day, eh?’
‘The longest.’
‘What’s the latest?’
‘We’re talking to Pomponianus’ people. He’s agreed to hand over control of the sergeants to me for the next week. I’m hopeful he will resign and we can call an early election. Nemetorius is digging his heels in but at least seems to realise he made a mistake at the forum.’ Diadromes looked up at the sky. ‘More than fifty dead, a dozen soldiers among them.’
‘My advice – don’t let them out of the barracks for at least a week.’
Diadromes grimaced. ‘I need them to keep control of the streets. The governor might send reinforcements but I’ve already lost dozens to desertion.’
‘No offence to your esteemed sergeants but in truth they are little more than a man with a club who takes orders. Why don’t you bring in some of the more moderate protesters and appoint them as sergeants? No one who’s committed a serious offence, of course – and it would only be temporary – but it might work. All protecting Berytus together; that type of thing.’
‘That’s actually not a bad idea.’
‘It’s not original. Some governor did it. Can’t remember where.’
Diadromes looked him up and down. ‘What about you? No sightings of this accursed pair?’
‘No; and the bloody servants all disappeared too, of course. Cosmas plans to search the villa and has men at the harbour and watching the gates but I doubt we’ll get anywhere. They’re too bright to stick around. They’ll be long gone.’
‘I apologise. It is our fault you did not reach them in time. Not to mention this traitor Kallikres.’
‘At least he made the right decision in the end.’
‘Where is he? I don’t even know.’
‘The cell. Which I imagine is rather full.’
‘Actually the sergeants made only a handful of arrests, would you believe? They spent most of their day protecting buildings.’
‘And now?’
‘All out on patrol. I’m going to ride around the centre, get a look for myself.’
‘Well, may I thank you for your timely intervention,’ said Cassius. ‘They wouldn’t have listened to anyone else.’
Diadromes glanced back at the curtain and lowered his voice. ‘They all assume I always wanted this. That I was biding my time, waiting for an opportunity. It’s not true. Perhaps a few years ago …’
‘The city needs you.’
‘I’m already getting tired of hearing that. What will you do now?’
‘Wait and see if Cosmas turns anything up, I suppose. Tomorrow I have several rather difficult letters to write. Then … who knows?’
They shook forearms.
‘Thank you once again,’ said Cassius. ‘For a moment there I honestly thought I was going to die in that house.’
‘Honestly – for a moment – so did I.’
Cassius drank his wine and gazed out at the city. He could see the collapsed, burnt-out factory and the smoke still rising from the ruin. There were few other obvious signs of what had transpired that day, though they had seen plenty on the way to the tower.
The sergeants were indeed out in force and Diadromes already had work parties attending to the statues that had been attacked and the provocative graffiti that adorned dozens of walls. Members of both the city council and the local assembly were on the streets too, showing their faces to homeowners and merchants whose property had been damaged. Not far from the tower, Cassius and the others had passed a house from which came the anguished shrieks of the bereaved. The men of the family had gathered outside; standing in silence while their women wailed.
Cassius heard feet on the ladder and turned just as Indavara’s head appeared.
‘Ah, sorry, I thought—’
‘No, please,’ said Cassius. ‘Come up.’
&n
bsp; ‘No, I’ll—’
‘Indavara, I’d like to speak to you.’
He climbed up through the hatch.
‘Wine?’
‘No.’
Newly clean, Cassius was clad only in his sleeping tunic. His body craved rest but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without some drink to dull the myriad thoughts assailing him. He poured himself some more, his arm aching even with the weight of the jug.
‘You seem preoccupied. This girl? What’s her name again?’
‘Mahalie.’
‘Would you like to go and see her?’
‘Yes. But … it’s difficult.’
‘You do appreciate that unless Cosmas finds out anything new we will probably have to leave in the next few days.’
Indavara had planted his hands on the stone surround. ‘I know.’
‘You will have to forget her.’
Cassius looked down at the pink lesions across the back of the bodyguard’s calves; a result of their involuntary ride down the water channel. Cassius had the same, all the way up to his backside.
‘It is not sensible for us to have attachments, not in our line of work.’ He leant against the surround beside Indavara. ‘It’s not easy for any of us. Don’t forget that I haven’t seen my family for three years and Simo hasn’t seen his father since we were in Antioch. Army life is like this.’
‘People like you do not understand what life is like for people like her.’
‘Probably true. But this girl is not your responsibility. We are meant for another path.’
‘Corbulo, I was powerless for six years. Now I have a place in the world – do not tell me that I cannot use it.’
‘I’m not. Nor am I blind to how this is affecting you. Listen, I think … perhaps there is something we can do for the girl. But you must promise me that when it is done you will leave with Simo and me. You have taken an oath.’
Indavara turned to him. ‘And you need me to protect you.’
‘I won’t deny it.’
‘Just tell me what you can do.’
‘I help you and then you run off with her? I don’t think so.’
‘I am not planning to run off anywhere. They cut her, Corbulo. For nothing. I would sooner kill them than leave her there alone.’
‘I don’t want to hear talk like that.’
‘Then give me another choice.’
Cassius took a long sip of wine. ‘Sitting in a locked room at the headquarters are all those amphoras confiscated from the factory. Thousands of denarii. Well, fake denarii. Slaves are expensive, young maids especially, but there is undoubtedly more than enough.’
‘To buy her, you mean?’
‘I’ll have to clear it with Diadromes, of course, but if I tell him the whole story I doubt he’ll oppose it. And I’m sure I can make appropriate adjustments to the necessary paperwork. The treasury and my superiors need never know.’
Some of the tension had left Indavara’s face. ‘We wouldn’t even be paying them with proper money.’
‘An added bonus. If that fact were to come out – perhaps after we had left Berytus – this master of hers might face a few more problems.’
‘How would we do it?’
‘I shall go to this man’s home and conduct the negotiation. I’m sure we can find a price agreeable to both parties, payable immediately in cash, of course.’
‘How did you … what an idea!’
Indavara did not often smile; Cassius had rarely seen him so happy.
‘There is a certain elegance to it, I suppose.’
Indavara grabbed his hand and shook it. ‘Thank you, Cassius. Thank you.’
The path was so rocky and uneven that they had to walk the last few miles. High above them, the towering peaks were even darker than the sky. The smuggler had only one lantern, making progress even slower. The middle of the night was long past when they finally heard the crying of goats and saw a light up ahead.
‘We wait here,’ said the smuggler.
Amathea was too tired to complain. Alexon left his horse and walked over to her. As she leant against him, he kissed her head. Despite it all – the tense escape, the exhausting journey – standing there in the dark with her holding on to him felt rather wonderful.
He was the one who had devised the daring, ingenious plan. He was the one that had saved them.
From ahead came the sound of a man quickly descending the trail, his boots sliding, sending grit down the slope. The two locals greeted each other in Aramaic, then the smuggler spoke in Greek.
‘We’ll bring the horses.’ He handed Alexon his lantern. ‘You two can go straight up.’
Alexon and Amathea continued on, hand in hand. As they approached the light – which was a lantern hung over the door of a small abode – Alexon glanced up at the sky and stopped for a moment. Only half the moon could be seen but that half seemed unnaturally large; so large that black and grey spots were visible upon the surface.
‘Rather beautiful.’
Amathea didn’t even look; she continued up the trail, snivelling and wiping her nose.
A woman was waiting at the door. In barely comprehensible Latin she promised them food and hot water and showed them through to their room. Alexon was surprised by the quality of the furniture, though he would have preferred one large bed instead of two small ones. The woman lit a candle, then bustled back into the parlour.
Amathea dropped down on the bed and put her head in her hands.
‘We’ve lost everything. Again.’
‘Not true, sister.’
Alexon took off his pack and sat beside her. He unbuckled the pack then took out the bronze box he had been carrying all day. He placed it on her lap, then shut the door. By the time he sat down again, she had already opened it. One half of the box contained a glittering stash of emeralds, sapphires, rubies, pearls and orange carnelian. In the other was the best and most valuable of Amathea’s jewellery. She picked up the largest of the emeralds. They had used the fake coins to buy it through a broker in Tyre. It was worth more than a thousand aurei.
‘I made a few calculations during the journey,’ said Alexon. ‘Even with the loss of the workshop, the stock and the slaves, we are still far better off than when we began this venture.’ He tapped the pack. ‘And we still have the dies.’
Amathea turned to him. ‘You have made the most of a bad situation, Alexon. I thank you.’
He put the box on the floor and took her hand in his.
‘I thought it was all over,’ added Amathea. ‘Lying in that horrible cart, hearing their voices.’
‘I wish I could have seen this Crispian’s face. He must have thought he was so clever, tracking us down.’
‘Not as clever as you, brother.’
She glanced down at a tear in her tunic and shook her head. ‘But look at us.’
Alexon stroked her hand. ‘Try not to think about it. By this time tomorrow we will be safely away from danger.’
Amathea looked around the room. ‘My body aches, I’ve no one to care for me and now I must spend the night in a hovel.’
‘No one to care for you?’
Alexon was glad it was just the two of them. All the best moments of his life had been with her. Just her. When he had her all to himself.
She touched his face. ‘Sorry, Alexon. I am yours.’
He thought his heart might burst.
He kissed her on the lips. ‘And I am yours.’
XXXVIII
Indavara stopped at the corner of the street.
‘What is it?’ asked Cassius.
‘I should tell you. I came here before – waited for them outside the house. I was going to do something but I didn’t. They ran off.’
For Cassius, surprise soon gave way to relief. ‘Thank the gods you did no more than frighten them. You must stay here. It’s probably for the best anyway. Give that to Simo.’
Indavara was carrying a saddlebag containing small cloth bags of the counterfeit denarii, as was Simo. Th
e Gaul turned so that Indavara could hang it on his spare shoulder.
‘Wait right here,’ said Cassius, pointing at the pavement.
Though he had left his helmet at the tower, he was wearing a fresh red tunic; this was another occasion when emphasising his status might be helpful. Given the situation in Berytus, however, he had taken off his light cloak only upon reaching the street. His sword – newly cleaned and polished by Simo – hung at his side.
‘Fifth gate along,’ said Indavara.
‘Come, Simo.’
They walked up to the house. As the attendant had a considerable load to contend with, Cassius took it upon himself to ring the bell hanging from a chain. While they waited, he looked through the gate. The dwelling was not very large but had one glassed window with an elaborate floral design. He guessed that Mahalie’s master might be a middle-ranking city official or a moderately successful merchant.
It was he that came out of the front door, holding the key on a string. The man was, as Indavara had suggested, unremarkable. He approached the gate hesitantly.
‘Good day,’ said Cassius.
‘Good day.’ The man’s eyes took in the tunic and the sword.
‘I’ll get straight to the point. I have a proposal for you regarding your slave – I believe she’s named Mahalie?’
‘Proposal?’
‘Yes. I’d like to buy her from you.’
The man scratched his neck with his fingernails. ‘She’s not for sale.’
‘Perhaps we can discuss a price.’
‘As I said, she’s not for sale. Good day to you.’
Cassius let him get halfway to the door before speaking again. ‘I believe you had another visitor the other day. Big fellow with a lot of scars?’
The man stopped and turned.
‘He’s my bodyguard. He told me what you did to the girl. She will be leaving this house today. We can either do it my way or his. I get the impression that he feels you might deserve a taste of your own medicine and I can assure you that he is more proficient at dispensing pain than you will ever be.’
The man walked back to the gate.