A Whispering of Spies

by Rosemary Rowe

  ‘So you seized my cloak – and almost frightened me to death by sneaking up behind me in the dark?’

  The boy reluctantly relaxed his grip. ‘Not at first I didn’t. My plan was to wait until you were alone. I began to follow you – I still had that message to get to you – but then you stepped into the street and I saw who you were with. Then I knew that it was safe to talk to you, though you would have already heard the news I was supposed to bring. But I could not imagine what you were doing here. I thought you were supposed to be sleeping at that apartment opposite.’

  ‘I was, but I had business in the town,’ I said. I did not want to further panic Brianus by telling him that I was wanted, too! ‘And I must deal with it. I’m glad to find you safe – I feared that you’d been recaptured and locked up by now – but I have serious troubles of my own and I must go and try to sort them out.’

  The hand shot out and gripped my cloak again. ‘Let me come with you, citizen. No one will take me for a runaway if I am with two citizen tradesmen like yourselves.’ He must have sensed that I was weakening. ‘Your son told me that it was not a crime to appeal to another master for sanctuary, if your own was unnaturally harsh. So I appeal to you.’ Without relinquishing his grasp upon my clothes, he threw himself before me and kissed both my muddy feet. ‘Afford me your protection. You will save my life. I am willing to have you take me to a magistrate and I’ll show him my weals.’

  The last thing that I wanted to do at that moment was to see a magistrate or have a frightened childish slave to think about! But the boy was right. I was his only chance – and, on reflection, there might even be advantages for me. Having an attendant gave a person dignity, and made one’s presence on the streets more unremarkable. ‘Very well,’ I said ungraciously. ‘I’ll let you come tonight. Though I warn you that tomorrow you will have to go. I’ll pass you to my patron – it’s the best that I can do. I’m likely to be exiled before the day is through. Especially if I don’t get on with what I need to do. So let go of my clothing and stand up, for Juno’s sake!’ I said it more sharply than I meant, for Brianus was covering my feet with kisses now. I raised my voice a little. ‘Junio, bring the light here. It is time to go. Give the torch to Brianus. Let him carry it. It seems I have acquired a temporary slave.’

  The boy let go of me and scrambled to his feet. ‘At your service, master!’ The bunch of reeds was burning down by now, but as he took them I could see his face. It was alight with joy. ‘And I’ll follow you into exile, if you’ll let me stay.’

  Poor misguided fellow, I thought. He did not know how much trouble I was in. ‘You can start by leading us towards the southern gate,’ I said. ‘And when we get there, don’t say anything until you’re spoken to. We’ll go down the main thoroughfare – it’s the quickest way and very probably the safest, too. And never mind the watch – you’re quite right, they won’t be looking for a group. Do you know the way?’

  He nodded and without a word set off along the street, proudly holding the torch to light the way.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  We did have an encounter with the watch. We passed them as they came out of a lane across the street, their pitch-torches ablaze. I saw Brianus stiffen and look nervously at me.

  ‘Don’t stop, don’t look, just walk on as you are,’ I hissed at him, and rather uncertainly he did as he was told. I raised my voice and called across the road: ‘Good evening, gentlemen. All quiet on the streets?’ It was more than mere bravado: I felt safe enough in company but I was keen to know whether there was yet a search for me.

  It appeared there wasn’t. ‘All quiet in Glevum, except that we are looking for a slave. Rather like your own, from the description that we have.’

  Brianus froze, despite what I had said, and I urged him gently forward with my hand. ‘Well, this one’s ours,’ I called out cheerfully. ‘But if we find any stray ones we’ll be sure to let you know. Is there a reward?’

  I saw the members of the watch exchange a glance. ‘You bring him to us and we’ll make sure you’re recompensed.’

  ‘We’ll keep our eyes open,’ I promised, and was about to move away when the leader of the watch called after me.

  ‘If you do come across him, see you come to us. Don’t take him to the garrison – they’ve got their hands full there. There’s been a body found. Something to do with that wealthy lictor who was coming here. He hasn’t had much luck. You heard his treasure-cart was set upon by thieves?’

  I knew more about it than they did themselves, including the death of Pronta – presumably the body that they were talking about – but I did not tell them that. I said, ‘I heard his wife has got here, anyway.’

  ‘It’s their slave that’s gone missing,’ one of younger men put in, and earned himself a warning kick from all the rest. Obviously the team had claimed the full reward for bringing Pronta in, and were hoping to do the same again with Brianus – even if they had to pay a little to whoever found him first.

  And there was their quarry, carrying my torch! It would have been quite funny if his life were not at stake. ‘We’ll look out for him,’ I told them, ‘but we can’t stop and help you search. We’ve been to a funeral and it’s a long way home.’

  The watchman nodded. ‘Well, see that you take care, if you’re going outside the walls. It’s obvious that rebels are active in the woods again.’ He paused. ‘Here, wait a minute! Let me look at that.’ To my alarm he strode across the road and went straight to Brianus, who was standing with his eyes shut, paralysed with fear.

  I closed my own eyes, preparing for the worst. This was all my fault for talking to the watch. I thought of protesting that the slave was claiming sanctuary with me, but I held my tongue: better to argue when we were in custody – as I surely would be for harbouring a runaway, although it hardly mattered any more. I was already as good as exiled. There was no hope of achieving anything tonight.

  ‘There!’ the leader of the watch was sounding satisfied. ‘You’ll be better off with that.’ I forced my eyelids open and saw with amazement that he was taking the guttering reed-torch from Brianus and substituting a tar one of his own. ‘Can’t be too careful, with all these rebel thieves and murderers about.’

  Brianus was a silent statue, mystified with shock – and so was I. Only Junio had sense enough to burble out some thanks.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right. We’ve plenty at the store and we’re going back anyway. It doesn’t cost us anything: the curia provides them for the watch. If you really want to thank me, find that slave for us.’ And he went back to his fellows and led them down the street.

  I had to lean against a wall a moment to recover from my fright. My knees had turned to butter and my hands to ice. It was Junio who brought me to myself.

  ‘If you’ve got your wits back, you two, it is time we went. We’ll only draw attention to ourselves by standing here. And now, at least, we’ve got a decent light.’

  He was right, of course, so we set off again and pretty soon were at the southern gate.

  As we approached it, Junio turned to me. ‘I think you said you had a strategy?’

  I nodded. ‘I hope that it will work. I think there’s every chance – I recognize the man on duty at the gate.’ It was the soldier who had waited on me in the guard-house earlier and poured me the cup of wine I never drank. ‘You stay here with Brianus and let me talk to him. If there’s any trouble, slip away again.’

  Junio nodded, rather doubtfully, and Brianus looked as if I’d volunteered to die. I squared my shoulders and strode up to the gate with as much false confidence as I could summon. ‘Good evening, optio.’ I had deliberately promoted him.

  The soldier looked at me. ‘Don’t I know you, citizen?’

  ‘Of course you do,’ I told him breezily. ‘I was falsely imprisoned earlier today, but the commander saw to it. I was invited to my patron’s residence tonight – His Excellence Marcus Septimus Aurelius. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?’ I could see by the man’s expression that he had. �
�I have just come from there. I have an urgent message for a certain Biccus, a freeman who was brought in to the garrison for questioning. I understand that he has been released and might have been eating at the mansio. It is imperative I speak to him at once.’

  The soldier looked nonplussed and then his features cleared. ‘You mean the pig-man?’ he enquired, suggesting that the forced visit to the bath-house had produced a limited effect. ‘He was at the mansio earlier, but only for a meal. We’ve billeted him and his donkey at the hiring-stables just outside the gates. If you want to catch him before he goes to bed, you’d better hurry. He’s been there a little while.’ Even as he spoke he was opening the gates, so I beckoned to Junio and Brianus to come and we passed together through the arch and out on to the road.

  It had been simpler so far than I’d dared to hope. Brianus was speechless with admiration for my guile, but Junio simply grinned. ‘I told you that my father would work something clever out. Though he could have just told them that we wanted to go home – it is no secret that the roundhouse is this way.’

  I shook my head. ‘We are the only pedestrians around, and this torch is visible for a long way from the gate. The sentry would soon spot where we were making for – this way at least it will be no surprise, and he won’t send someone running to drag us back again. But he’s right: we’d better hurry or we’ll find that Biccus has retired to his bed. Bring the light here, Brianus, and let’s see where we’re going.’

  The value of a tar-torch was a considerable one. Not only would it last a good deal longer than our own, but the pitch burned with a brighter, more consistent light. It lit the darkness better than the moon and we were able to walk the distance to the inn with confidence.

  There was an oil-light still burning when we approached the door, so someone in the household was clearly still awake. I knocked and heard a scuffling from within and then a window was thrown open on my right. ‘What’s all the racket?’ A man in a long-sleeved tunic was peering out at me, the oil-lamp in his hand. ‘Can’t you see we’re closed? We haven’t got a room. If you are looking for a bed, you’d better try the mansio.’

  ‘You have a man called Biccus here, I think. The army . . .’

  He cut me off. ‘I should think I have, and most inconvenient it has turned out to be! Stinks of pigs – although he swears he’s had a Roman bath – and no one else will share a bed with him. Yet the army says I’ve got to have him here. It’s all very well them saying that they’ll pay. Cost me a fortune with the trade I’ve turned away.’

  ‘Well, I’ve come to requisition something else, as well,’ I said. ‘I think you have a cart which carries torches, haven’t you? I believe I’ve ridden on it once.’

  He held his lamp a little higher so he could look at me. ‘And what if I have?’ he said suspiciously.

  ‘I want it fitted up for use at once. I’ll need a driver, too. We are to be taken to where Biccus lives. On official business. As soon as possible.’ I tried to make it sound like a command. I took a mighty gamble. ‘The garrison will pay.’ Behind me, I heard Junio catch a startled breath. I only hoped the innkeeper had not heard it, too.

  The shrewd eyes glittered in the lamp-light. ‘On whose authority?’ He looked me up and down. ‘You don’t look much like an army officer to me.’

  ‘Talk to Biccus, then,’ I countered. ‘He knows who I am. I helped to question him. I was called in by the commander of the garrison – with whom, incidentally, I rode out this afternoon, in one of your vehicles. The driver who took us will vouch for that, I’m sure. Ask him, if you doubt me, but don’t keep me standing here. And be quick about it; I have important work to do.’

  The man was still grumbling but he pulled back the bolt and very reluctantly allowed us to come in. It was clear what he’d been doing when we knocked on the door: the table, which on one end was littered with half-empty bowls and mugs of wine, was covered on the other by small piles of coins. Open beside them was a large box with a key. He had been counting the takings for the day.

  He saw me looking and swept the cash away, locking it firmly back into the chest. ‘I’d better get Biccus to take a look at you, I suppose. Though the wretch is probably in bed – sleeping away my profits, since he’s in there all alone.’

  ‘I’ll take him with me, if I helps,’ I volunteered, as though this were a favour I’d decided to bestow – though in fact I’d planned to do so all along. Only Biccus knew where we were going! ‘And we’ll leave his donkey with you as a pledge against the cost. It’s worth at least as much as the hiring-fee would be – that way you can’t lose.’

  The innkeeper weakened, though he went on tetchily, ‘Now he takes the pig-man – when it’s far too late! We won’t get other travellers at this time of night. And we’ll have the donkey feed to find as well. Well, you’d better put that torch out – you’ll need it later on.’ He lit a taper from his lamp and went off, muttering. Soon we heard his padding footsteps on the floor above our heads and the sound of rapping on a distant door.

  Brianus smothered the tar-torch expertly in a jug of wine. He was bursting to say something, I could tell, but I held my finger to my lips – and only just in time. The innkeeper was already clattering down the stairs, followed by Biccus, who was now moderately clean and wearing a coarse tunic that was far too big for him, though he was still carrying his horrid footwear in his hand. It was clear that he’d been wakened from his sleep and he was far from pleased.

  The innkeeper pointed an accusing hand at me. ‘You know this person?’

  Biccus cast a jaundiced eye at me. ‘I do – at least, I met him at the fort. I can’t recall his name. He’s some sort of Roman citizen. I don’t know the other two.’ He was in his uncommunicative frame of mind again.

  ‘Members of my household – my son and slave,’ I said impatiently. It was no good trying Celtic here – the innkeeper was clearly from the local tribe himself, so the only people not to understand would be Junio and Brianus, who had both been raised as Latin-speaking slaves. I tried a different approach. ‘You agree we met. In the commander’s office, isn’t that the case? When you were brought to him for questioning? And who was it that persuaded him to let you go?’

  Biccus looked resentful. ‘I suppose that it was you.’

  ‘You see?’ I murmured to the innkeeper, though what Biccus said was not really proof of anything. ‘So, now will you provide the lighted cart to take us to the farm?’

  Biccus glanced up sharply. ‘So you did persuade them to let you go out there, after all? And you must have talked them into letting you go home as well; otherwise you wouldn’t have your son and slave with you. I don’t know how you do it – I thought you’d been refused. You must have influence.’

  I did not know how to reply to this, except to murmur, ‘It took a little time,’ but the effect on the innkeeper was immediate. He snatched up his taper and hurried off again, this time out towards the courtyard where the stable was. We could hear him shouting and hammering on the wall, and the sleepy answers of the waking slaves.

  I caught the pig-man’s eye. ‘Count yourself lucky,’ I said cheerfully. ‘You wanted to go home and now you are going to get a cart ride all the way.’

  ‘And what about the donkey?’

  ‘Don’t worry about him. They’re going to keep him here – and we’ll bring you back to pick him up another time.’ I spoke as though that were a certainty, although of course it was nothing of the kind. If things went badly for me, I would have to ask Marcus to sort that out as well.

  Biccus sat down on the bench and began to tie his dreadful shoes around his feet. The smell improved at once.

  Brianus edged over and whispered close to me, ‘What are we going to do, master, when we arrive out at this farm? We won’t be able to get in – everybody will be fast asleep by now.’

  It was a question I hadn’t really asked myself – my sole concern had been to get there and see what I could find. Clearly even that was not easy in the dark, and the owners
were likely to set the dogs on us. But I couldn’t help it: my freedom was at stake and things had gone too far for me to change my mind. I could already hear the clatter of the horses in the yard, and the slaves complaining as they pushed out the cart. More and more tapers were flaring into light, and men were fetching a harness and strapping it in place.

  ‘You’ll see when we get there,’ I said to Brianus.

  Junio caught my eye. ‘And you’d better relight that tar-torch in the fire, if you want to see anything at all. I think our transport is awaiting us – and here is the innkeeper, no doubt to tell us so!’

  It was not quite as simple as he made it sound. The innkeeper insisted that I scratch him a receipt, agreeing that I’d taken the cart and that Biccus had occupied the bed; otherwise he would not get the payment, he declared. ‘It’s most irregular, in any case.’

  I scratched the words he wanted on a piece of slate and he, still grudgingly, showed us to the cart. Biccus was helped up to the front – beside the scowling driver, so that he could point the way – though it was quite a squash, since two blazing torches were set on iron spikes each side to illuminate the road as much as possible, and there were unlit replacements stacked up behind the seat. Our own torch was thrust into another holder at the back, where its flickering light would cast its glow on us.

  Then, with a final clattering of hooves, we were out of the courtyard of the inn and on our way.

  TWENTY-FIVE