by Jane Finnis
“The pain was sharp and short, soon over, and I felt blood starting to flow. But I was too tired and confused to think properly, and I didn’t realise I was in danger from it. It still seemed to be a dream, and I thought, if I just lie here and keep still, soon I’ll wake up and find this never happened. Of course I realise now what he was trying to do. He could just as well have cut my throat to kill me. It would have been quicker, but it would look like a murder, whereas this way people would think I’d committed suicide.”
“Yes, I understand that much. Whoever murdered Jovina wanted to pin the blame on you, making it look as if you had killed yourself in a fit of remorse. But what did he mean about you keeping your eyes and mouth shut?”
“He must have thought I saw him killing Jovina down by the river.”
“And did you?”
“No, of course not. If I’d seen that, I’d have stopped it.”
“You weren’t all that close to the river, Marcus. We had people watching, and nobody saw you by the bank. You were also pretty drunk.”
“But not blind, and not so completely incapable that I couldn’t have done something to save my wife.”
“Did you see anyone at all?”
“Yes, several people, but too far away to recognise.”
“How far?”
“Oh, it wasn’t the distance so much, it was that everyone looked the same.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “They all had similar cloaks, with the hoods up because of the weather. Those new things that are supposed to be lucky. Waste of money, if you ask me, and I haven’t bought one, but practically every officer in this fort has. Several people had brought them along to the party yesterday and put them on when the thunder started. That Greek trader will be laughing all the way to his banker.”
“It all fits together,” I agreed. “We think the killer was interrupted by something, from the traces left in the grass…”
“Don’t tell me, I don’t want the details. I don’t want to think of her like that.”
“Then finish telling me about last night. What happened after your wrist was cut? Did the attacker say anything else?”
“No. I remember he stood over me for a little while, I don’t know how long he was there. I drifted back into sleep. I didn’t wake again till dawn, when I found Nikias beside the bed, bandaging up my wrist and telling me everything was going to be all right.”
I took a good sip of wine. “Thank the gods for the little lad who found you.”
He nodded. “Nikias bound me up and cleaned away the worst of the blood, and gave me some medicine he said would make me sleep. He said I mustn’t blame myself for anything, and I mustn’t try to open the vein again. I knew I hadn’t opened it to begin with, but I wasn’t going to admit that of course. It would be like accusing someone in the hospital of trying to murder me. So I just lay there and said as little as possible, till he said he’d leave me to rest. I pretended to go back to sleep, and stayed like that till you came to see me. But I wasn’t asleep. How could I sleep, knowing someone was trying to kill me?”
Throughout Mallius’ horrifying story, I’d felt a mixture of emotions: fear inspired by his appalling experiences, but also, I confess, excitement. Everything he told me confirmed the suspicion that Nikias had tried to murder him. And if Mallius was correct in remembering his last words, he’d also killed Jovina. He had discovered how she had got rid of his unborn child, or had lost patience with her when she refused to go away with him. Or both. Either of those possibilities could have driven him to kill her. But how were we going to prove it?
“And you really have no idea who it was who cut your wrist?”
“Oh, I know who it was. I mean I know who it must have been. I’ve no doubt who killed Jovina even though I didn’t see it happen. That person thought I did see him, and wanted me dead. Wants me dead, if it comes to that.”
“You’re assuming he’ll try again?”
“Of course. Hence the big lads I’ve drafted in as bodyguards. Four altogether, I’m not taking any chances. They’ll keep the enemy away till we have enough evidence to arrest him.”
“You still haven’t told me who the enemy is.”
“Trebonius, of course. My esteemed commanding officer.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Trebonius? Why?”
“Last night when he heard me confess to murdering Jovina, it must have seemed to him like a gift from the gods. He knew I hadn’t done it—of course he did, because he’d killed her himself. But he was the only man who knew for certain I’m innocent. If he could make it appear that I’d taken my own life out of remorse for taking my wife’s, then everyone would believe it, and he’d be free of any suspicion.”
There was sense in that, as far as it went, but that wasn’t very far. “That could explain why he wanted to kill you. But why would he kill Jovina? They were…I’m sorry to be blunt, Marcus, but they were lovers, weren’t they?
“They were, and I admit I was jealous. Trebonius and I have never liked one another. We were rivals for the commander’s post here, and that was bad enough. But being rivals for a woman…it’s too much to bear. She knew I disliked him. It was one of the many things she and I quarrelled about.”
“But if Trebonius loved her, why would he kill her?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Because of the baby.”
“The baby?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know. She was carrying Trebonius’ baby, and she got rid of it.”
I opened my mouth to protest that this was wrong, but he didn’t give me time.
“You don’t need to defend her now, Aurelia. I’m sure you were in her confidence. I wasn’t, but there are ways of finding out these things. Selena wouldn’t say a word, but some of the other servants were less discreet, especially when I gave them the impression I knew all about it anyway. I found out from the door-slave that the village wise-woman attended Jovina several times. One of the young house-girls said it was because of some ‘woman’s complaint.’ The cook mentioned she’d lost her appetite, and started asking for unusual foods, things she didn’t normally eat. We’ve had two children together, I can recognise when a woman’s expecting a child. And I can count months and days,” he added bitterly. “I know when she started throwing herself at Trebonius. And it really hurt me, Aurelia. That she could even think about having an affair with one of my enemies.” He laughed without any humour. “I was pleased when I found out she’d got rid of the baby. I thought that would mean the affair would end…but it didn’t, not until he himself ended it. Well, I’ll tell you this. I’ve sworn vengeance on her killer, and I’ll make sure he answers for what he’s done.”
I felt as though I were wading into a morass. I’d believed Jovina absolutely when she said her unborn child was Nikias’. But could she have been wrong, or simply lying to me to protect Trebonius? And if the child was the commander’s and he found out, would he be angry enough to commit murder? Yes, probably he would. Or his wife might decide it was her duty? No, that was going too far, surely.
He interrupted my thoughts impatiently. “You sit there as if you’ve never heard any of this before. Surely Jovina told you?”
“Most of it, yes. But she thought you didn’t know; in fact she was desperately anxious that you shouldn’t find out. Or anyone else, for that matter. She especially didn’t want the commander to know the cause of her illness.”
“I can well believe it. But secrets don’t stay secret for long in a place like this. He was bound to hear rumours.”
“True enough. And if it really was Trebonius who attacked you last night, he may have trouble keeping that quiet too. The small slave-boy I mentioned noticed him, for one, but thought it was natural that he’d come to see how his deputy was faring. Maybe other staff there were aware of his visit.”
“Which means it’s all the more certain that he’ll make another attempt to kill me as soon as possible,” Marcus said. “I’m ready for him, when he comes.”
“If he comes,”
I said.
“He’ll come.”
Someone knocked on the door. It made us both jump. Mallius called, “Go away. I’ve already told you I’m not to be disturbed.”
A gruff voice outside answered. “You’ve got another visitor, sir. Commander Trebonius is here to see you. Shall I show him in?”
Chapter XXV
Mallius sprang up from the couch and shouted through the door, “Ask him to wait till I get dressed.” To me he added softly, “I must find a weapon. Anything. Are you carrying a knife?”
“Don’t be silly, Marcus. He can’t do anything here and now. The guards are outside, and I’ll stay with you. Let’s see what he wants. He may have news.”
“I suppose so.” He turned to the door and shouted, “I’m ready now. Show him in.”
Trebonius strode in briskly, followed closely by the big bodyguard, but there was no feeling of aggression or threat. His smile appeared genuinely warm and friendly, though it couldn’t hide the lines of weariness and anxiety on his face. “Thank you, Ajax. Wait outside within call,” he ordered, and the soldier had no choice but to leave us.
“Mallius, it’s good to see you out of the hospital and back in your own home. Sit down, man, you look tired still. And Aurelia, I’m glad you’re here to keep him company.” He pulled up a stool and sat near the couch.
“He’s looking better, isn’t he?” I said.
“He is. How are you feeling?”
Mallius sat down on his couch and relaxed a little, smiling back. “Not too bad, thank you, sir. May I offer you some wine?”
“Thanks, yes, that would be welcome. I’ve just been out in the village with one of our patrols. Thirsty work, what with all the dust and smoke.”
Mallius poured him a beaker and handed it to him.
Trebonius took a long swallow. “That’s good! I shan’t stay long, but I wanted to see how you are. And to tell you not to worry about anything, take whatever time you need to recover from this dreadful business.”
“That’s good of you, sir, especially when you’re so busy.”
All this ever-so-courteous formality struck me as incongruous in light of what Mallius had just been saying to me, but as I’d observed at the party, they’d got accustomed to hiding their mutual dislike under masks of pleasantness.
“There’s one thing I need to ask you,” Trebonius said. “Jovina’s funeral. I discussed it with Philippus last night and we’d intended it to be today, but that really isn’t possible with everyone on alert. Our funeral field is outside the fort,” he explained for my benefit. “And in any case, with neither your son nor your daughter here, it doesn’t seem right. I’d like your agreement to postpone it until tomorrow, Mallius.”
“I agree. Thank you for taking on the organisation. There’s no news, then, about Chloe or Vitellia?”
“No. I’m afraid they haven’t returned yet, neither have the investigators who are searching for them.”
“Can you send out more search parties? The girls haven’t had time to go very far from the village, and perhaps they went into hiding somewhere by the river when they realised the danger of being outside.”
Trebonius sighed. “I can’t spare anyone till my reinforcements get here. I’m sorry, but given the situation in the village…”
“What exactly is the situation? Are our patrols managing to contain the unrest?”
“For now, yes. There are groups of young Brigantians moving round the streets, but they aren’t carrying arms, or not openly at any rate, and they aren’t challenging our patrols directly. There are rumours that Prince Venutius will arrive to take charge before nightfall, but so far he hasn’t shown up.”
“I suppose there’s some arson—it’s inevitable. Any looting?” I was pleased to see that now they’d both abandoned their false civility, and were simply two soldiers discussing a military problem.
“Some fires, and some looting of Roman property. We’re doing all we can to deter it, but we’ve barely enough men. I’ve sent to Eburacum for reinforcements. They should arrive tonight or first thing tomorrow.” He drank more wine. “Meanwhile I’ve taken twenty hostages, and I’ve sent messengers out to let everyone know I expect the Brigantians to hand over Eurytus’ killer by tomorrow at dawn; otherwise, I plan to execute two hostages a day till they do.”
“What? Sir, is that wise?” I realised that this was the first Mallius had heard of Trebonius’ scheme. “Won’t that simply inflame the villagers all the more?”
Trebonius was unruffled. “Probably, but we can hold them down indefinitely once reinforcements arrive. And I have no choice. I must do everything I can to discover who killed Eurytus. We can’t let the death of an important Imperial official go unpunished.”
“It’s to be hoped Quintus Antonius can find out who the murderer was,” I said. “He was confident he could, given enough time.”
“So he told me. He has till tonight. Time is the one thing we’re short of. And talking of that, I’d best get back to work.” He finished his wine. “I’m glad to find you recovering, Mallius. I realise you’ve not been well, but when does the doctor reckon you’ll be fit for duty?”
“I’m to rest for today, and after that it’s up to me. So I shall be back in harness tomorrow.”
“Good man. I’ll see you then.”
I felt the tension slacken a little as the door shut behind him. “I’ve got to say, Marcus, he didn’t look like a murderer to me. He was the picture of a concerned commander.”
“He’s a very good actor,” Mallius answered. “You saw how gracious he was at the party, when all the time he was hating my guts, and waiting for the chance to make love to my wife…” He seized his beaker and gripped it so hard I thought it would break, but with an effort he regained control of himself and put it down. “He got away with it that time. Thank you for staying, Aurelia. Your presence made sure he behaved himself.”
“I’m glad. It’s certainly given me something to think about.”
“You still don’t believe he’s a murderer?”
“To be honest, I believe he’d be capable of murdering you. You’ve implied that you’re capable of murdering him, and I believe that too. After all, you’re soldiers. You’re also rivals. If he believed you when he heard you confess to killing Jovina, he might have decided to avenge her and make it appear you’d done away with yourself in a fit of remorse. All that I can accept.”
“Well, then?”
“But I can’t bring myself to imagine him murdering Jovina.”
“Why not? They were lovers, and they had a lovers’ quarrel.”
“Selena has told me that though they liked one another’s company, they never went to bed together. And she said she thought Jovina was keener on the relationship than Trebonius was.”
“Stuff and nonsense. She was just trying to protect her mistress. No, Trebonius is the man, there’s no doubt. Think about it, Aurelia. You’ll admit it fits the facts?”
“It fits quite a few of them, yes,” I admitted. “Trebonius was seen alone down by the river during the party. Jovina told Selena that she planned to meet him for a private talk, and there was a stretch of time when nobody knew where he’d got to. He’d have had long enough to meet her, to quarrel with her, and yes, to murder her…except I just don’t think he did.”
He was finding it hard to keep his patience. “Then if he didn’t kill her, in the gods’ name who did?”
“It could have been Nikias.”
“Nikias? You’re joking…But no, you’re serious, aren’t you?” He looked genuinely surprised. “I don’t think that’s likely. For a start, why? He and Jovina stopped seeing one another months ago. If he was angry with her for throwing him over, surely he’d have killed her then.”
“Suppose he tried to start the affair again? He admitted to me that he wanted to see her, but he couldn’t because he wasn’t invited to the party. In fact, though, he could still get to the field by the river, by going across country where no one would see. What
if he was really the one that Jovina planned to meet by the river, but she considered it so secret that she didn’t even tell Selena? Then afterwards, when you confessed to the murder yourself, he had the same idea you’re attributing to Trebonius: he’d dispose of you, making it look like suicide. Being in the hospital himself made it very easy to do, and nobody to be any the wiser.”
“But he didn’t go to the field by the river. However much he wanted to, he didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me. Believe me, I’d had the same idea as you, that he wanted to be Jovina’s lover again, and killed her when she refused. I challenged him about it this morning. He was adamant that he never left the hospital at all yesterday afternoon, and his assistant confirmed it. So he’s in the clear,” he finished triumphantly.
I realised how much he wanted his enemy Trebonius to be proved a murderer for personal reasons as well as in the interests of justice. I must be wary of letting his own hatred of the commander cloud my judgment. Yet the mere fact that the two men loathed one another was surely an important reason why Trebonius could have killed his subordinate.
“I must go,” I said, “but I promise I’ll think over what you’ve told me, and so will Quintus and Lucius. And you must take care. Be on your guard all the time, and not only against Trebonius—against anyone who could possibly be your enemy in secret.”
“I shall, never fear. He’ll try again, and I’ll be ready for him.”
I left him and wandered aimlessly around the fort, trying to get my thoughts in order. Mallius’ conviction that Trebonius had killed Jovina, that he was the father of Jovina’s child, was so strong, it caused me to think again about my own conclusions.
On my way back to our office I saw Congrio coming from the direction of the main gate. “Here’s the present I promised,” he said, and handed me a small thin bundle wrapped in leather. “Only small, but it’s a good little knife, sharp as a razor.”
“Thank you, Congrio. That’s much appreciated.” I unwrapped it cautiously, and found a well-made knife with a sharp iron blade and a wooden handle inlaid with silver. “This is beautiful, thank you so much. And very timely, too. I’m going to keep it with me. On a day like today, even a peaceable innkeeper feels like carrying a weapon. And this one’s small and neat enough to fit into a pouch.” I tucked it into my belt-pouch straight away.