A Bitter Chill: An Aurelia Marcella Roman Mystery (Aurelia Marcella Roman Series)

by Jane Finnis

  “Where are we going?” I asked Otus.

  “Never you mind.”

  “Well I hope you’re not expecting us to walk far in all this snow.”

  “No, you’ll have your own private transport once we get to the road.” They all laughed. “Keep quiet, and save your breath.”

  So we’d at least be travelling along the road. And he couldn’t walk us along the highway as we were—our appearance would arouse suspicion if we met any Roman travellers. He’d probably arranged for a cart to pick us up, where we could lie safely hidden under sacks or hay. Would we be heading up the Long Hill into the wold country, or in the opposite direction, to Oak Bridges or even to Eburacum?

  We halted just inside the tree-line, in sight of the road—that’s to say we could see any travellers on it, but they couldn’t see us. “Rest your horses,” Otus ordered. “The others’ll be here soon.”

  As we stood there, I tried to find a scrap of hope in the situation. If Hawk was following us, and perhaps Quintus too, this respite might give them time to fetch reinforcements, even to attempt a rescue. But thinking about Quintus depressed me even more. He’d offered to accompany me to the meeting with the kidnappers, and I’d hoped that one reason was so he would be there to help if things went wrong. But he hadn’t been there, and perhaps he didn’t consider that things had gone seriously wrong. Priscus was on his way home, and I assumed I’d be released eventually, because I’m a free citizen. Though I’m not wealthy enough to produce a big ransom, even kidnappers must know the trouble they’d be in if I disappeared completely. But Margarita and Gaius were different. What was to happen to them?

  There was a sudden commotion of shouts and footsteps in the trees to our left. An arrow whizzed out of the gloom, catching Otus a glancing blow on the shoulder. He rocked forward but managed not to fall, as two spears came flying, and two men tumbled from their mules. Dark figures erupted from the trees—two, three, four of them—and surrounded the group of riders. And Quintus’ voice, pitched to a parade-ground yell, called out, “All right, everyone. Stand still. I said STAND STILL!”

  The two natives at the rear turned tail and rode back into the woods. Two were on the ground, wounded. But two were left, including Otus, who leaned down and scooped Margarita up onto his horse. She tried to resist, but her hands were tied, and he growled, “Keep still, or the kid’ll suffer.”

  “Come on!” he shouted, and set off at a reckless gallop along the road. The remaining man bent from his saddle to snatch Gaius, but the boy dodged out of reach, and miraculously Titch was there, bringing a cudgel down hard on the man’s outstretched left hand. The horseman fled, and Titch took Gaius in his arms in a bear hug. “There now, young Gaius, you’re all right!”

  But the child was terrified and screaming, and didn’t seem to recognise him. “Mamma!” he yelled. “Mamma, wait for me! Wait for me! I’m coming!” He kicked out at Titch, catching him in the balls, so that he doubled up with pain and relaxed his hold. Gaius wriggled free and set off at a clumsy run after the two retreating horses, still crying “Mamma!” at the top of his voice.

  Titch, in spite of his pain, tried to follow, until Quintus yelled, “No, Victor! Don’t be an idiot!”

  “I’ll not leave him!” But his legs went from under him, and he collapsed, staring helplessly in the direction Gaius had gone.

  “Shall I try, sir?” For the first time I realised Quintus’ red-haired servant was one of our rescuers.

  “No, Rufio.” Quintus strode quickly over to me and cut my hands free. “Check those men we speared, tie them up if they’re still alive. Victor, you can’t do any more, it’s too risky to go after them. We’ll have to leave it for now.”

  I ran to the road, and even as I watched, Otus’ companion was galloping back to Gaius and hoisting him onto his horse. “They’ve caught Gaius,” I called, and walked sadly back to the others.

  Titch swung round angrily to face Quintus. “We were so close! Why didn’t you follow and get him? You could have caught him, he’s only little. I promised I’d look after him!”

  “Too dangerous.” Quintus put a hand on Titch’s shoulder, but the lad shrugged him away. “We’ll get him free, I promise you, but not like that. Whoever had gone after him would have run straight into a trap, don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t see. I think we’ve been cowards!”

  Quintus ignored the insult. “Use your brains, lad. Yes, I could probably have caught up with Gaius, but one of their men was already coming back for him. Say I’d ordered him to surrender, threatened him with my sword. All Otus would need to do was start to hurt Margarita, and I’d have had to let Gaius go. And surrender myself, probably, so they’d have got another hostage.”

  “He’s right,” I said gently. “Don’t feel bad. There are no cowards here. You all did everything you could.”

  Titch turned away and wiped a hand across his eyes. Then he squared his shoulders and faced Quintus again. “I suppose so. Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. Now I think we need to get Aurelia home. Will you fetch the carriage?”

  “A carriage!” I couldn’t believe it. “You’ve really brought a carriage?”

  “Aye. It’s parked just down the road.” Titch hurried away.

  Quintus came and took my hands, which were so numb with cold that I could hardly feel his touch. “We had to bring transport. We weren’t sure what state you’d all be in. Gods, you’re as cold as ice. We’ll soon have you warm again. Titch will drive you back, while Rufus and I see to these prisoners.” He glanced at his servant. “Are they dead, Rufio?”

  “One is. The other’s alive, the spear only got him in the thigh. And conscious too, aren’t you, pal?” He kicked the native in the ribs, and got a groan as answer. “I’ll take that as yes. I’ve got their weapons, but there’s nothing else worth having. No money, nor anything to say who they are.”

  “We’ll find out.” Quintus looked grim, and then smiled as Titch drove up in our medium-sized raeda. “Now here’s the carriage. May I assist madam to take a seat?”

  “You may. In fact I think you’ll have to. My feet don’t feel as if they belong to me any more.” With his help I clambered aboard, and gratefully lay back on the cushions. There was a woollen rug there, and he leaned in and wrapped it gently around me. For a few heartbeats we were alone in the confined space.

  “Thanks for coming, Quintus,” I said softly. “You took quite a risk.”

  “Of course I came.” He held me close and kissed me full on the mouth. “And I would have taken any number of risks.” He squeezed my hands, and then drew back, grinning. “Perhaps you’d better ask that handsome Greek doctor to check you over. I don’t want you catching a chill from being in the cold.”

  I grinned back. “Maybe I will. They say Timaeus has a remarkably fine bedside manner.”

  “So have I.” He jumped down, and the carriage started for home.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  It was so good to see the Oak Tree again. Albia and Priscus were waiting for me, but otherwise the mansio was wonderfully empty now our visitors had gone. The comforting warmth of the bar-room was blissful as I began to take off my sodden cloak and boots, and I felt so happy I wanted to sing, even though physically I was numb with cold and bone-tired.

  Priscus started to ply me with questions, but Albia stopped him.

  “First she needs to get warm. Time enough for questions later. Come on, Relia, here’s a beaker of warm wine, and you’re to drink it while you have a hot bath.”

  “No chance!” I knocked back the mug of wine in one go. “That’s better. I’ll take a second one into the bath-house, or maybe a whole jug. I wouldn’t mind some food too. I’m starving!”

  “Please.” Priscus was close to tears. “Just one question. You haven’t brought Margarita and Gaius back with you?”

  “No. I’m sorry, Priscus. The kidnappers still have them.”

  “Ah.” He suppressed the tears with an effort. “Diogenes said
that might happen. But are they all right?”

  “They’ve not been hurt since you left, but they’re being moved to a new hideout. I don’t know where.”

  “Enough!” Albia exclaimed. “Priscus, please let Albia get out of these freezing cold clothes. Then she’ll answer your questions, if she feels up to it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said humbly. “Yes, of course. At least you’re back safely. Presumably Diogenes gave them money to get you released?”

  I decided to dodge that one for the present. “Where’s the little turd now?”

  “Gone to Silvanius’ place to report to her ladyship,” Albia answered. “Now come along, Aurelia Marcella, or you’ll find yourself kidnapped by me, and force-marched to your bath!”

  She came with me to the bath-house, and when she’d helped me undress, she looked me up and down. “Thank the gods you’re in one piece, Relia. I’ve been imagining them doing all sorts of awful things to you.”

  “They didn’t hurt me. They didn’t have time.” I eased myself into the hot water. “This feels wonderful! They hadn’t much in the way of heating in that roundhouse.”

  She said seriously, “Poor Margarita. And little Gaius too. If you’re chilled through after a few hours there, I don’t want to think what it must be like for them.”

  “I know. I’d like to get my hands on those bastards. I hope Quintus and Hawk can find out where they’ve gone.”

  “Quintus? Ah, that explains the silly smile you’ve had on your face ever since you got home. You were rescued by a certain Quintus Antonius Delfinus, I gather?”

  “Quintus was there, yes. So were Titch, Rufus, and Hawk.”

  “Oh I forgot, you always wear a silly smile when you see Titch, Rufus, and Hawk!”

  The memory of Quintus’ kiss stayed with me through that hot bath, and a second and third beaker of wine which I drank by the bar-room fire. At last I was warm all through, and feeling more like going to sleep than talking, but I was curious about Priscus’ presence.

  “I’m surprised to find you still here, Priscus. I thought you’d be with the rest of your party at Silvanius’ place.”

  “I wanted to wait for news.” He ran a hand through his sandy hair. “I won’t be a nuisance and plague you with questions when you’re tired. Victor has told me what happened. But there’s one thing….”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to apologise, Aurelia. For my family, and for that little swine Diogenes. He should never have agreed to your taking my place as a hostage. I feel ashamed that you were put into such danger for me.”

  “I don’t think it’s you who should be apologising. I assume you had nothing to do with the negotiations.”

  “Nothing at all. Apart from not wanting to involve you, do you think I’d have agreed to be ransomed if Margarita and Gaius weren’t released with me? The thought of them all alone with that band of cut-throats! But by the time Diogenes had negotiated with them, it was too late for me to change anything. The little toe-rag exceeded his authority, which is no great surprise. But I’m truly sorry that you were involved.”

  “Don’t worry. Thanks to Quintus Antonius, I got away without any serious harm. I went along to the clearing to try and eavesdrop on the negotiations, but I couldn’t, so you probably know more than I do. What did Diogenes tell you he’d agreed to?”

  “He said that he would return with enough money to get you released today, but there probably wouldn’t be sufficient to free the others. He doubted if Father could raise the whole ransom till after Saturnalia.” Suddenly he stopped, then leapt to his feet. “Listen! Is that horses I can hear outside? Perhaps there’s some news!”

  Albia and I hurried to the door, expecting to see Quintus and Rufus. Instead we found one of Silvanius’ carriages, with two mounted guards riding alongside it, and its driver placing steps ready for someone to descend. “Holy Diana,” I prayed, “don’t let it be Sempronia!”

  Out came, of all people, Horatius. He carried a box of papers, and his grey-haired servant followed him down, bearing a clothes-chest. So he must be planning to stay, just when we’d nicely got rid of them all.

  “Horatius!” Priscus had come to stand beside me at the door. “What in the gods’ name brings you here? Is there any news?”

  “News?” he repeated vaguely. “Oh, you mean about Margarita? No, not a thing. Here, let me get inside. This cold seeps right into your bones.”

  We all went back into the bar-room and stood awkwardly just inside the door. “I hope it’s not putting you out too much, m’dears,” Horatius addressed Albia and me, “but I’d like to stay here tonight. Just tonight. I’ll go back in the morning. Fact is, I’ve had a bit of a row with Sempronia, and I need to keep out of her way. You don’t mind too much, do you?”

  “Er—no, of course not.” But I did mind, and he wasn’t too drunk to know it.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded as if he meant it. “I can see it’s inconvenient. But you’ll hardly know I’m here. My man will look after me, and I’m quite well-behaved, you know, when my irritating relations aren’t around to provoke me.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “If you promise you’ve brought no irritating relations, you’re very welcome.”

  “Thank you.” He turned back to the door, where the carriage driver stood waiting. “You can go back to the villa now. Pick me up from here at noon tomorrow. And if the fun and games start again, I’ll expect a full report, all right?”

  The slave grinned. “Very good, sir. But I think the show’s over for tonight.”

  “Fun and games?” Albia asked, as I shut the big door and we trooped over to the fire. “What have you been up to, apart from having a quarrel with Sempronia?”

  “Oh, wait till you hear!” He turned to his slave. “Take my things to the room I had before. That’ll be all right, won’t it, m’dear?”

  Albia nodded. “I’ll get someone to put a brazier in there. And I’m afraid we’ve nothing very grand to offer you for dinner. Or have you had a meal at Silvanius’ already?”

  “Not yet. But you’ve got some of that excellent Campanian red wine, haven’t you?” He sat down, rubbing his hands.

  “I daresay we can find a mug or two for a valued customer. Especially one who likes the stuff so much he’s driven through the winter snow for it!” Albia fetched a wine-jug and beaker, and poured the lawyer a drink.

  Priscus said to Horatius, “So you’ve heard nothing more about Margarita and Gaius?”

  “No, ’fraid not. But I have one piece of news that will please you, I think. A certain confidential secretary got what he deserved today.”

  “If you mean the Weasel,” Priscus remarked, “what he deserves is a sound thrashing.”

  Horatius chuckled. “And that’s what he got. Timaeus gave him a good beating.”

  “Timaeus! You’re right, that does please me. But why?”

  “Because Diogenes didn’t get Margarita and Gaius released. In fact he accused the Weasel of making a deal with the kidnappers, that the two of them wouldn’t ever be ransomed, but would be left with the gang. Diogenes denied it, of course, and kept insisting he’d just done the best he could.” Horatius took a long drink of his wine.

  “He’s an evil little rat,” Priscus said, “and I agree he overstepped his authority when he let them take Aurelia. But surely he’d never betray Margarita and Gaius like that? Sempronia and Plautius would have his hide, wouldn’t they?”

  “Ah, but that’s not all. Timaeus really laid into him. I thought he was going to kill him at one stage. He had him on the floor in a stranglehold, and kept demanding that he admit what he’d done. And Diogenes suddenly changed his tune and said, ‘All right, I admit it. I’ve got rid of those two for good. It’s what my lord and lady wanted, and I’ve done it.’ Well naturally, that made Timaeus madder than ever, but by then somebody had run and told Sempronia what was going on, and she sent a couple of the bodyguards in to stop the fight. I was rather sorry myself.”

  We were al
l digesting this when Quintus strode in through the main door. “Any chance of some service in this bar?” He glanced round the room in surprise. “Well well, quite a reception party. I expected Priscus, but you, Horatius? Has Silvanius run out of wine already?”

  “Sempronia’s turned it all sour,” the lawyer grunted.

  Quintus gave me a smile and a nod, and discreetly squeezed my hand as I helped him out of his cloak. He thanked me politely when I handed him a beaker of spiced wine. Oh well, I thought, we’re back to the starting-gate. Whatever his reasons, when there are other people about, he’s distant and cold with me. But when we’re alone…. I resolved to get us alone again as soon as possible.

  Priscus shook Quintus’ hand, reminding me that the two of them hadn’t met yet, at least not on this journey. However, they obviously knew one another slightly.

  “Antonius, it’s good to see you. And I thank you for rescuing Aurelia. I’m ashamed of the way she was treated, just to get me released.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Quintus answered, sitting down by the fire. “It was Diogenes who left poor Aurelia in the lurch. And now, I’m very much afraid, Margarita and Gaius are in an even worse situation.”

  “What’s happened? Do you know where they are?”

  “No. Hawk and I followed them as far as we could, till it got too dark to see. That’s why I didn’t come back sooner.” He took a long draught of wine. “Gods, I’ve been dreaming about a good spiced drink all day! The natives rode towards Eburacum, but they hadn’t got far when a farm cart came up the road to meet them, with three more riders. There was some arguing, because apparently the cart should have been waiting by the holly-bush. We have to be thankful it wasn’t,” he added, smiling at me. “They loaded Margarita and Gaius into the cart and covered them with some sacks, and all moved off together. I’m afraid there was nothing we could do to stop them. They went straight past the Oak Bridges turning, so they may be heading for Eburacum, or probably somewhere closer for tonight. It was full dark by then, so it was pointless to search any more tonight.”