Hibernia (Veteran of Rome Book 2)

by William Kelso

  Efa's eyes gleamed triumphantly. "Priscus brought the boat," she replied.

  "What?" Corbulo exclaimed, "Priscus knows about this? He knew before I did?"

  Efa smiled.

  "He is a good man. He will say nothing."

  "Damn right he won't," Corbulo growled in alarm. He turned and glanced at Dylis. His daughter had started refilling the wooden bowls with soup.

  "Great," Corbulo muttered to himself, "This is just great."

  Beside the hearth he suddenly noticed that the little girl with the tangled blond hair was watching him curiously.

  "Why are they looking for us?" she asked in her childish voice. "Why do they want to kill us?"

  "It's because of who you are little one," Efa said quietly.

  Chapter Five - Enemies of the State

  In the Forum the farmers market stalls lined the edge of the open courtyard and behind them their owners were doing a brisk business. The Forum at Cornhill was packed with people and the sound of advertising cries mingled with the noisy chatter of the shoppers. The stink of pig manure was overpowering. It was just before noon and it was a beautiful day with a bright sun and clear blue skies. Corbulo picked his way carefully through the crowd clutching a leather bag that hung around his neck. A sword, a Legionary Gladius was strapped to his belt and he looked alert. He'd learned the hard way that it paid to be on ones guard against the gangs of pickpockets that operated in the Forum especially when he was bringing a month's worth of company profits to the bank. He stopped as he caught sight of a gang member whose face he recognised but the girl ignored him. Maybe the gangs had learned their lesson and had decided to leave him alone he thought sourly.

  Two days had passed since Efa had brought the nine Christian children into his home and they had already managed to drive him crazy. He'd instructed Priscus to take the boat out and pick up the stone while he himself had remained at home sorting out his new guests. He'd set them to work cleaning, scrubbing and repairing his house and even though some jobs were unnecessary he'd made them do them anyway. The army had taught him that. Never let the men get bored or restless, make sure that they always have something to do, even if it's a pointless exercise. If they are too busy they will have no time to cause trouble. Corbulo grunted. He had certainly dug his share of pointless holes during his time.

  The bankers had their offices inside the Forum's eastern wing. Corbulo squeezed in between two market stalls and stepped into the shade of the stone paved and covered walk way that separated the atrium from the offices and shops. A line of wooden posts, driven into the ground at regular intervals, stretched away along the side of the Forum holding up a sloping roof that was covered in red roof tiles and ended in an open lead drain. A series of doors set in the stone-wall led to the offices beyond. Corbulo paused to look around him but everything seemed normal. He turned and strode along the covered walkway until he came to a door with the sign above it that read

  "Argentarii Britannia, Owner Gaius Valerius Falco, authorised money lender and foreign exchange dealer, good rates for all."

  Corbulo muttered something under his breath. Falco was not one of the large sophisticated banking companies that operated out of the Forum and who lent to big businesses or managed the wealth of the rich. He was just a one-man bank who catered to the lower end of the banking market, lending money to desperate and poor people and the occasional legitimate business. Corbulo had sold him the amber stone, which he had taken from the sea cave in Caledonia because Falco had a reputation for not prying into his clients affairs. The man was discreet and that suited Corbulo just fine. The less people who knew about the amber the better. But that didn't mean that Falco wasn't interested in his clients affairs and as Corbulo had learned, the bankers discretion only continued if his profits continued. Corbulo had always suspected that Falco knew much more about what was going on than he would admit to. Information was power as Falco liked to remind his clients. There had been times when the banker had hinted that he knew about the affairs of Corbulo's business competitors but Corbulo had always resisted the bait - there would be a price to pay for such information.

  Corbulo stepped through the doorway into a cool square room. A pair of big thuggish looking men with shaven heads and tattoos running down their arms rose to their feet as he entered. They gave him a hard suspicious look, which he ignored. Falco was sitting behind a table counting a large pile of copper coins. The counted coins had been stacked in neat columns and on the table lay an opened wooden writing tablet and a stylus. On the corner of the desk a cup of wine perched precariously on a stack of wooden tablets. Falco looked up and a broad grin appeared as he recognised Corbulo.

  "Always good to see you friend, always a pleasure Sir," Falco beamed rising to his feet and extending his arm. The banker was small with thick bushy eyebrows and a fat belly. He looked around forty.

  Corbulo took the arm in greeting and glanced cautiously at the two thugs. Falco kept them around just in case someone was foolish enough to try and rob him. But what was stopping them from stealing from their master? Corbulo had often worried about that risk but trusting the banker was still a better option than keeping his money at home. For an ordinary man who could not afford his own protection, the banks in the Forum of Londinium represented the safest and most profitable place in which to invest one's money. It was here in the Forum, the financial and legal heart of the province of Britannia that the great and powerful mercantile business interests were concentrated and these interests would not tolerate a threat to their reputation. If the thugs were to steal from their master their chances of survival were slim. The bankers guild were ruthless and would kill them just as easily as they would take into slavery any debtor who failed to pay their debts.

  "What can I do for you today Corbulo?" Falco exclaimed.

  "I have come to deposit some money into my account," Corbulo replied as he undid the leather pouch from around his neck and placed it on the table.

  "Ah yes, this is good," Falco's eyes gleamed hungrily as he looked at the bag. "Business must be going well. I like it Corbulo. One of these days you must come and visit me at my home and I can show you my new Carrus, wagon and horses. I bought them just two days ago. How is Priscus, well I hope? He usually deposits your cash doesn't he?"

  "Not today he doesn't," Corbulo said.

  Falco scratched his cheek. "Allright, no problem, no problem," he said hastily. He reached for a wooden writing tablet. "Are you good to wait whilst I count the money?"

  "Of course I am," Corbulo replied, "and I want a receipt and I want to know how much is in the account?"

  Falco nodded. "Certainly," he said as he took the bag and emptied its contents onto the table. Corbulo watched him closely as the moneylender started to count his coins.

  "I suppose you have heard about the trouble a few days ago," Falco said smoothly as he began to stack the coins. "The Governor is furious with the Christians. He has thrown all their remaining druids into prison. The Christians have been declared official enemies of the state. Now anyone is allowed to kill them, enslave them and take their property without fear of retribution or the law." Falco said. "It's bad business if you ask me. Some of those Christians were good clients of mine. This money here," Falco said gesturing at a pile of copper coins, "belonged to one of them poor fools. Now the Governor's officials want to get their hands on it and if none of the owners relatives come to claim it soon, I will be forced to hand it over. Greedy bastards. The State wins every time."

  "Enemies of the state," Corbulo murmured. "Well the Governor is a prick. He doesn't compare to his predecessor Agricola. Agricola was a good man, an honest man, he would never have allowed this to happen."

  "Yes," Falco nodded, " Agricola was a good Governor but he is gone now."

  Corbulo grunted. "Well you are right, this trouble is bad news. When the mob gets excited they may start to attack non Christians as well." He paused. "What did these Christians do anyway?"

  Falco looked up and there was
a sudden gleam in his eyes.

  "Well," he said carefully, "I have just heard an interesting story." He leaned forwards and raised his eyebrows. "Apparently it all started with one of the Governor's freedmen, a man called Alexander, a Jew who worked on the Governor's staff. The rumour has it that Alexander stole something from the Governor. Something that was very precious to our dear and most respected commander."

  "What did he steal?"

  "A letter, apparently he took a letter," Falco nodded carefully.

  "A letter?" Corbulo said with a puzzled look.

  "Yes and now the Governor is desperate to retrieve it," Falco said shaking his head. "So desperate in fact that he has signed the death warrant for an entire community. The city guard has searched every Christian house they know about. But they haven't found the letter. They must have gone through the whole city but it's still missing. They say that the Governor stalks around his own palace smashing everything in his rage because they can't find it. Now isn't that an interesting story. That must be one valuable letter. I wonder who wrote it and what it says?"

  Corbulo looked confused.

  "But what has this Alexander and the letter got to do with the Christians?"

  Falco smiled coyly.

  "Alexander was a Christian," Falco said. "He was one of their druids and the first to die. He killed himself before they could interrogate him."

  "So the Governor thinks Alexander may have passed the letter on to someone in his community for safe keeping?"

  Falco grinned again and starting counting the coins. "You are smart Corbulo. Yes, I believe that is what the Governor thinks. A tough determined bunch though these Christians. They refused to say anything. Many of them died without defending themselves. They seem to have such faith in their one God."

  "So did the Governor catch them all?" Corbulo asked.

  Falco raised a finger in the air as he counted the coins. "They are a small community these Christians, only a handful of families we think. The adults are dead or in prison but most of their children have not yet been found. They must be hiding somewhere in the city. The Governor is searching for them."

  Corbulo leaned back against the wall as he allowed what he'd just heard to sink in. Was this why they were looking for Quintus? Was this why his friend had vanished? Had Alexander given him the letter?

  Falco looked up, "Strange thing is," he muttered, "that the Procurator has now decided to get involved as well. Everyone knows that Classicus hates the Christians, but the ferocity with which he is hunting and killing them is truly shocking." He paused. "I don't particular like these followers of Christus but this violence and disorder is scaring away business and investment. It has to stop. My clients don't like it."

  Corbulo was staring at the far wall. The banker was right. Why had the Procurator got involved? It was odd. Why would the chief financial officer of the province be interested in a stolen letter?

  "Unless," Falco said suddenly in a quiet voice, "Classicus suspects that the letter incriminates the Governor in some way. If that were the case I can understand why he would be interested."

  "I don't understand," Corbulo muttered.

  Falco raised his hands in mock despair. "You have been spending too much time on that boat of yours," he exclaimed. "Don't you listen to the gossip?"

  "I haven't got any fucking time, I have a business to run," Corbulo replied in an annoyed voice.

  "It doesn't matter," Falco said hastily, "Anyway, the point is that Classicus and the Governor hate each other. They truly loath each other. It's highly entertaining to see them together in public, the fake smiles and shows of unity." Falco chuckled. "You see," he said in a patient voice, "the Procurator, as chief financial officer of the province is in charge of collecting taxes and he is appointed by Domitian himself. Classicus reports directly to the Emperor. He's the Emperor’s man, he's Domitian's eyes and ears here in Britannia." Falco chuckled again. "He is the only man on this island over whom the Governor has no authority and our beloved Governor must resent that immensely."

  "So the Governor hates Classicus because he can't tell him what to do?"

  "Well yes," Falco eyes gleamed like gold coins in the sunlight, "and then there is also the rumour that Classicus fucked the Governor's wife and daughter, but that's just a rumour, I can't confirm anything, so don't quote me."

  Chapter Six - The Governor's Palace

  Corbulo strode down the street that led from the Forum to the bridge. Up ahead a party of workmen were working on a construction site for a new house. A huge pile of stones lay to one side, waiting to be used and Corbulo grunted approvingly. The construction rate in the city was increasing rapidly and it was stone buildings that were replacing the old wooden constructions. He had chosen the right business allright. If he could just survive for a few more years the money he would make would be enough to set up Dylis, his adopted daughter for life.

  The street sloped gently down towards the waterfront and as Corbulo approached the river he caught sight of the usual detachment of soldiers and customs officials guarding the entrance to the bridge. A queue of people had formed and were waiting to cross and Corbulo suddenly noticed that the soldiers were searching everyone wanting to cross the bridge. He stopped in his tracks. Something had changed. The Legionaries had not been doing that when he had crossed a few hours earlier. As he stood staring at the crowd a figure detached itself from the mass of people and came towards him. Corbulo stirred uneasily as he recognised the man. It was Perialis. The Optio was wearing a rough civilian Pallium, cloak over his armour. He looked worried as he hurried towards Corbulo.

  "What's going on?" Corbulo said stiffly.

  "I have been waiting for you," Perialis gasped, "I have some bad news Corbulo," he said laying a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Efa your wife has been arrested. She was caught trying to smuggle a Christian child across the bridge. Cato was on guard duty. He caught her. They have taken her and the child to the Governor's Palace for interrogation."

  Corbulo's face turned pale. For a moment he was unable to say anything.

  "The child was wearing a wooden cross around her neck," Perialis continued. "That's how Cato knew. By the Gods Corbulo, what was your wife thinking? Everyone knows that the Christians have been declared outlaws."

  Corbulo was staring at Perialis in dismay. Then his dismay turned to anger.

  Without a word he wrenched himself free and started off in the direction of the Governor's Palace but Perialis caught him by the arm.

  "Don't be a fool," the Optio hissed, "You will never get into the Palace, the place is far too well guarded. The Governor commands a thousand men. They will kill you if you try to force your way in."

  Corbulo's breathing was coming in short sharp gasps but he paused. Then he nodded.

  "You are right," he said in a tight voice.

  Perialis tightened his grip on Corbulo's arm."Listen," he said quietly turning to glance at the queue before the bridge, "If you want to help your wife, I know how you can get into the Palace but you must wait until its dark."

  Corbulo turned to stare at the soldier.

  "Why are you doing this?" he said slowly, "Why have you come to warn me? I am not your friend, you barely know me."

  Perialis sighed and looked away.

  "Come on," he muttered, "You are a veteran, you were a soldier once like me." Perialis shook his head in slight embarrassment. "Everyone in the barracks knows about you Corbulo. Twenty-six years ago you were one of the men who fought and defeated the Barbarian Queen. You are fucking legend Corbulo and there aren't many veterans left like you. If you came to the barracks one day, I swear, you could make a fortune from telling the men about the day Governor Paulinus and the Twentieth destroyed Boudicca and her rebellion."

  ***

  The narrow log boat nudged into the solid manmade waterfront and Corbulo tensed as the hull scraped gently along the wooden piles. It was night and the Thames was quiet except for the occasional splash of a river creature somewhere o
ff in the darkness. Corbulo grasped hold of the wooden piles and began searching with his hands. Perialis had told him it was here somewhere. The piles were wet and slippery and covered in soft moss.

  "Can you see it?" a voice whispered behind him in the darkness.

  Corbulo said nothing as he pushed the log boat along the side of the wooden waterfront. Then he found it; the ladder leading up the revetment. He grunted and looked up. High above him in the night sky hung a blood red moon. Mars, the God of War was watching him. It was dangerous to go out when a blood red moon was visible. Everyone knew that but right now he couldn't give a fuck. His anger was etched into his face. He was going to take his wife home come what may. He turned his head.

  "Stay here and wait for me," he grunted.

  In the darkness he couldn't see Priscus but as he clambered up the ladder he knew his young business partner would do as he was told. Carefully he raised his head above the waterfront and paused to listen. The night was quiet. He scrambled onto the deserted quayside and crouched peering into the darkness. A gentle breeze was coming in from the west. Where was the guard who patrolled this part of the Governor's palace? Corbulo waited ready to slip back down the ladder but there was no movement or noise from the darkness. Once more Perialis was right. The officer had told him that the guard on the waterfront had a habit of sneaking into the kitchens to snack on the Governor's leftovers. Corbulo rose to his feet and started boldly across the open stone paved embankment. The doorway into the kitchens was somewhere to his left. He stepped over a short wall and cursed as he nearly fell into a long rectangular swimming pool. To his right the massive stone palace of the Governor of Britannia loomed over him. He could make out some of the windows from the glow of oil lamps in the rooms beyond.

  Straight ahead of him he could see a dim light coming from a doorway. He crept towards the partially opened door and crouched against the wall. The smell of freshly baked bread filled his nostrils. Inside the building a man was laughing. Corbulo closed his eyes and his fingers touched the pommel of his Gladius. It had been difficult waiting for nightfall. The thought of Efa and what the Governor could do to her had haunted him. Would they have tortured her? Had she already cracked and told her captors about the nine Christian children in her home? If she had then he Corbulo was a dead man and so were the children. He opened his eyes. No, she was a tough woman, his Efa, she wouldn't say anything without a fight. She would be allright. She had to be allright.