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The Poisoned Throne: Tintagel Book II

Page 11

by M. K. Hume

The whole room was silent except for the small explosions of sound that came from the brazier and the fire pit. Nudd seemed to be mentally running through the conversation from the beginning while the Romans held their breath.

  ‘You agreed to keep the Roman occupied until we got here. We’ve paid you in gold coin for your troubles, so don’t think you can increase your price now that Lord Conanus has decamped and is far away. You have no idea how long his reach is. He’ll stop your tongue, you fat bitch, if you speak to a living soul about those things that are about to happen in your house.’

  Then, like a small child, Nudd pursed his lips. ‘He wasn’t a nice man, was he? He frightened Mistress Clidna with his knife and he swore at her. He’s a bad man!’

  ‘Yes, Nudd. He’s a very bad man,’ Constantinus answered him seriously as Clyte started to cry in earnest and the half-wit looked around at his audience with wondering, confused eyes.

  CHAPTER V

  A Dangerous Affection

  Your great glory is not to be inferior to what God has made you, and the greatest glory of a woman is to be least talked about by men, whether they are praising you or criticising you.

  Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War

  While Constantinus continued the unsavoury task of interrogating the prisoners, Endellion tentatively entered the rooms of her foster-daughter to explain the fate of the girl’s intended husband.

  Severa was mending a torn under-skirt with determined patience. She had taken her new role to heart and was valiantly attempting to sew a neat, invisible hem with doubtful skill. Her small pink tongue was caught between her teeth as she concentrated fiercely on the task.

  Endellion smiled and cleared her throat.

  As soon as Severa noticed her, she put the under-skirt to one side with obvious relief.

  ‘I’m afraid I bring sad news, my dear,’ Endellion began in a conciliatory voice.

  Severa paled visibly at her foster-mother’s sombre expression.

  ‘Has Father Aeron taken ill? I saw him when he broke his fast and he seemed perfectly well. Is it one of the boys? Are the children safe?’

  Endellion reached out one sympathetic hand to smooth the girl’s pale hair.

  ‘Aeron and the children are safe, my dear, and are playing in the forecourt as if nothing has been happening. No, Severa, I’m afraid that your betrothed has been assassinated in the small village just outside the city walls, along with two of his bodyguards. I cannot tell you much of what has happened because Aeron and the senior Roman officer are still interrogating the suspected perpetrators and witnesses to determine the identity of the culprits. It’s a very sad time for you, my dear, because you will have to prepare yourself for an interment at a time when you have made your destiny known to the citizens of Britannia.’

  Severa stared blankly in amazement.

  ‘I don’t understand. Marcus seemed perfectly well when I spoke with him yesterday, and he seemed eager to make his preparations for the wedding. How could an assassin breach the walls and guards of Corinium?’

  ‘As I said, Severa, Marcus was killed outside the walls. The incident seems to have happened at some time around midnight.’ Endellion was hoping to deflect any questions concerning the nature and place of the incident, although she had little hope that the vulgar gossip-mongers would spare Severa when discussing the unsavoury details of this crime.

  Severa composed herself. Although she had no love for Marcus Britannicus, he had represented her salvation from a barren existence without the hope of love or children.

  ‘The smallest and most unimportant urchin in the city will soon be aware of the grisly details of what happened to Marcus, Mother, so I will appear foolish if I allow myself to be kept in ignorance. I need to know the whole truth – regardless!’

  With minimal hesitancy, Endellion began to explain the embarrassing nature of Marcus’s foray into the Street of Whores where he had met his fate, how he was taken prisoner and the foul place where his lifeless body had been found.

  Severa pondered the embarrassing situation in which she had been placed.

  ‘Such a scandalous death of an important personage will be impossible to keep quiet, so his murder might have saved me from a life of future humiliation. Who found his remains?’

  ‘Constantinus, his second-in-command, led the search that found the bodies. I know you had feelings for him when you first arrived in Corinium. Have you spoken to him at all?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve spoken with him on a number of occasions. He has always been courteous and seems eager to please.’

  Severa blushed and Endellion examined her face with interest.

  ‘I agree with you. I rather like the man, but I’ve found him to be a little too formal. He sees women as fragile creatures that should be protected from the ills of the world.’

  ‘Is my interest in the man so strange, Mother? Aren’t I entitled to take pleasure in the attention of a handsome and upright man who treats me with respect and compassion? I allowed myself to become the intended of a man who died as a result of his disgusting habits. Oh, I’m aware that everybody will try to keep the details of Marcus’s flaws from me, but I realised what he was like at our first meeting. The touch of his hand made me want to vomit, but you and Aeron have raised me to do my duty at all times, so I accepted my destiny. I also heard some gossip among the servants when they thought I wasn’t listening. Marcus would have given me a lifetime of embarrassment and despair. I’m glad he’s dead and I’m also pleased that honourable Romans such as Constantinus remain alive to protect our people. In fact, he is one Roman I’d be prepared to marry without hesitation. But, like you, I accept that he is a man of honour and dignity who might not have any use for the child of a traitor to Rome’s interests such as Flavius Magnus Maximus, another soldier whose ultimate failure was to snatch at the crown of the Roman Empire.’

  Endellion murmured further words of comfort before hugging her charge and leaving. Perhaps Aeron would know what she should do to allow life to return to its usual peace and tranquillity.

  Constantinus questioned Lachie after the servant was eventually run to ground in his hiding place near the latrines that lay outside the city walls. Like his brother, he seemed to be slow in intelligence, with an ugly squint and a look of low cunning in his watery blue eyes. But Constantinus quickly decided that very little would escape Lachie’s calculating mind, no matter how stupid he pretended to be. Tied firmly to the chains vacated by his brother an hour earlier, and with the madam, Clidna, returned to the cells, Lachie looked around the cellar with desperation.

  Clidna lay in an untidy heap on the floor of her cell. Her greyish flesh was streaked with blood, serum and excreta. Her laboured breathing suggested that she was close to death from a number of burns, whip marks and broken bones. No matter how much pain she had endured, she refused to provide any detailed information on her master, Conanus, and why his name filled her with such terror. The Roman commander finally terminated her torture without learning anything of Conanus’s likely hiding places.

  Clidna’s interrogation had only just drawn to a close when Lewis and Selwyn were dragged into the cellar and chained up in the positions so recently vacated by Clyte and Gwennan. Lachie’s hunted eyes searched among the faces of the other captives in an effort to discover what he must say under questioning, but each man avoided his gaze.

  ‘I’m tired, Lachie, and I’m irritated by the number of lies I’ve been told,’ Constantinus said softly. The calmness of his voice was more disturbing to the prisoner than any ranting could ever be. ‘Clidna made a grave error when she treated me like a fool, so you can see for yourself how she came to regret her decision.’

  Lachie’s pale eyes swivelled to the open cell where Clidna was lying. Every detail of her condition was engraved into his calculating brain.

  ‘Is she dead?’

&
nbsp; ‘Not yet!’

  Terrified, the Briton lost all control of his bladder.

  ‘You’re a dirty fucker!’ Paulus suddenly exclaimed. A small puddle of urine had run down Lachie’s legs to pool on the floor below his chair. ‘You’ll lick up the mess next time you do that.’

  ‘Do what you want with him, Paulus, but not yet!’ Constantinus interrupted. ‘Now, Lachie, your brother told me that you had far more to do with this matter than he did. Was Nudd telling the truth, do you think?’

  ‘Where’s my brother? What have you done with him?’

  ‘Don’t worry about Nudd. In point of fact, you could be joining him in a very short time,’ Constantinus responded, a subtle hint that Nudd had been taken away for execution.

  Lachie shook his head and tried to break his bonds, but only succeeded in bruising his flesh. The fat tears that leaked from his eyes began to run down his blunt features.

  ‘I’ve been told you were still in the kitchens when Lewis brought in the two Roman guards who accompanied their officer. Is that correct?’

  Lachie nodded, having decided to co-operate . . . at least, as far as he dared.

  ‘Were you by yourself?’

  ‘No! Selwyn was there. He was told to prepare food for the client and his men, so I helped him to serve up some stew and a jug of new beer.’

  ‘And?’ Paulus interrupted, expecting a long recitation of what they ate, how they cleaned the kitchens and how they had departed before the strangers arrived.

  ‘Little Grandfather was the first person to leave. He was frightened, so he was determined to vanish as soon as possible. He told me that our mistress wanted me to leave, but I was curious about the Roman guards. I’ve never spoken to Roman soldiers before.’

  Constantinus took up the questioning again.

  ‘What did the Roman soldiers say to you, Lachie? What did they tell you?’

  ‘Nothing much, I swear. They drank the beer and then they started to doze off. I was surprised. The mistress must have added one of her potions from the black bottle that she keeps in her room. I was frightened by then, so I left as well. I expected that the Romans would wait for their master to return, after he had played his games with the girls.’

  ‘Why did your mistress add her potion to the beer, Lachie?’ Constantinus kept his voice unthreatening, remembering how well this tactic had worked with Nudd.

  But Lachie had decided that he was more frightened of the assassins than he was of Constantinus. Closing his eyes, he refused to reveal any further information.

  The adjutant turned back to his decurion. ‘Paulus, show this fool that we can extract the truth from anyone. You can also convince Lewis here that he ought to consider his own skin, since Lachie is so careless with his life.’

  ‘With pleasure, sir!’

  Paulus selected one of the metal tools that had been placed among the hot coals in the brazier, lifted one out to examine its cherry-red tip and spat on the sharpened point. The spittle sizzled and disappeared in a hiss of steam. Then Paulus advanced towards Lachie, who was watching with wide and mesmerised eyes.

  ‘I’m told that an eye cooks like an egg around the heated point if you use hot metal on the face. But we’ll be kind, and we’ll start on your chest. We’ll work our way up, but I’m afraid that this might hurt a little,’ Constantinus added in his most reasonable voice.

  Lachie screamed as soon as the hot iron seared his flesh but after a while the agony took his voice away. He almost fainted, but when Constantinus asked the questions again, he learned that the servant had seen two masked strangers approaching the kitchens and had decided to make good his departure before he became aware of their intentions.

  ‘I wanted to save myself,’ he shrieked.

  After this the interrogations went much faster. Aware that Lachie’s evidence had damned him, Lewis admitted that Clidna had warned him that strangers would soon be coming to remove Marcus Britannicus’s guards. She had not been able to estimate how many guards would be accompanying the Roman officer on his visit to her establishment, so she had provided a soporific to put the Roman guards to sleep and ensure that their capture would be an easy task. Lewis admitted that he had seen the two guards dragged to their feet and pushed, staggering and stumbling, down the passageway and out into the street.

  ‘You don’t seem to have raised a hand to help them,’ Constantinus said, his voice thick with contempt. ‘Was this Conanus with them?’

  ‘I knew there would be trouble,’ Lewis said. ‘No one said anything about the murder of a highly born Roman officer. I’m not an idiot! I’d never have taken part in killing a Roman, no matter how much coin was offered. One thing was certain! There was no Conanus in the group that I saw. They talked about him, but I thought the five men among the assassins were all paid killers and were following his orders.’

  Lewis was quick to blame his mistress for the entire plot. He pointed one quivering finger towards her prone body.

  ‘She promised me that the patron wouldn’t be harmed, but he would be frightened into paying some outstanding debts. I knew we were in trouble as soon as I saw their red cloaks, but what could I say? I went along with her crazy plans and I hoped that no one would notice the Romans were missing until morning. I should have run as soon as the assassins were gone, but I was afraid.’

  ‘You’re right! You should have taken to your heels while you had the chance. Put him in the cells, Paulus, unless he has something more to offer that might merit a faster death.’

  ‘Stop! You must stop! One of the strangers in the kitchen swore that he’d only be happy when the job was done and he was back in his home again. He said he hated Britannia and its lousy weather. He also said that he hated the British people, although he’d been raised to believe that this island was his true homeland.’

  Constantinus and Paulus glanced curiously at each other.

  ‘And did he name this particular homeland?’ Constantinus asked while he tried to hide his excitement.

  ‘Yes! He did! What was it? I’d never heard the word before, so I could be wrong. I think it was Armorica! That’s it! Armorica . . . wherever that is. They were from Armorica – all five of them.’

  ‘Thank you, Lewis. You’ve provided the last part of the puzzle, so you will be rewarded for your good memory.’ Constantinus turned away to leave the small cellar that still reeked of seared human flesh.

  He paused at the door and looked back at Lewis, Lachie and Clidna. ‘You, Lewis, will be strangled before you’re crucified. The others can take their chances.’

  ‘So, Your Highness, we have achieved our aims. We’ve managed to extract most of the details that these underlings know about the assassination that took place,’ Constantinus explained to Aeron, after interrupting the king as the ruler was dispensing justice between two of his quarrelling citizens. Aeron had adjourned his court immediately and, as soon as the hall was cleared, Constantinus revealed what he had learned during the interrogations.

  ‘I have no idea who this Conanus is,’ he stated. ‘Nor do I know much about the land of Armorica in Gallia. I’ve heard it referred to as Brittany, too. I’ve been told that there are a large number of Britons living there. I don’t know what their presence has to do with my commander, but it’s almost certain that these five men came from Armorica with the avowed intention of killing Marcus Britannicus while he was in Corinium. I understand that the assassination was carried out on the orders of this mysterious Conanus.’

  To Constantinus’s surprise, Aeron paled noticeably at the information provided. The king’s eyes became wintry and his mien changed. Constantinus had considered that Aeron was a mild-mannered man, but now the warrior within the king’s nature rose to the surface like a pike that hunts at the bottom of the deepest pools and rarely needs to venture into the light.

  ‘Perhaps we should wait for
a moment while I call for my wife. I knew a Conanus who served under the favour of Flavius Magnus Maximus in Gallia. Maximus was a close friend of King Caradoc of Tintagel, and she is Caradoc’s daughter. I believe she has met Conanus, who is Severa’s uncle. I’m aware that Endellion knew Maximus when she was a young girl, so it may be that old sins have come back to haunt us!’

  Realising that King Aeron was serious, Constantinus took the stool that was offered to him and awaited the arrival of the queen, while he tried to keep his reservations under control. He wondered what use a woman could be when he was in pursuit of a pack of murderers. But this queen was a strange one, as reportedly were all the British rulers who originated in Tintagel.

  Aeron quickly brought his wife up to date with the information that had been extracted from the prisoners during their torture. The queen grimaced at this, but Conanus’s name and the reference to Armorica prompted her to sit down and stare fixedly into the middle distance.

  ‘It isn’t possible!’ she breathed and her gaze moved from her husband to Constantinus as if she expected them to admit that the information was part of an elaborate jest. ‘Conanus couldn’t expect to be given the throne on the basis of his tenuous relationship with Severa, could he? Nor would he be likely to come to Corinium where one of us might recognise him. We’d still know him, even after all this time. The man isn’t easily forgotten.’

  But her voice wasn’t convincing and Constantinus was certain that she knew exactly why Marcus Britannicus had been murdered. He could feel his temper beginning to fray. He had experienced a long and wearying day, during which he had been forced to extract information from a band of inept criminals. No matter how necessary his actions had been, he felt soiled by condoning the use of torture; angry and frustrated, he would have happily screamed at the two Britons till they told him everything he needed to know about Conanus and the assassins.

  ‘Who is this Conanus, and what is his connection to Severa? Pardon my rudeness, but I have little time before the commander of the legion will be demanding answers from me.’

 

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