David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

A cold ball of ice was forming in my stomach. ‘Yeah? And how do you propose to do that?’

‘Remember the place Drutus and his servant were killed? If a person was very unlucky, a tumble there, down from the high ground, might well result in a broken neck. You, of course, would be very unlucky.’

‘Why the hell should I be going back there?’

‘I don’t know. To search for more clues, possibly. It’s a long way from being the perfect solution, I admit, but frankly it was the best we could think of at such short notice, it will at least cloud the issue, and of course you do have to die, by one means or another. Not that you’ll be going there alive, naturally; your neck will already have been broken by then. Segomarus will be taking care of that shortly.’

Oh, shit. ‘So why this chat?’ I said. ‘Why not have done it while I was out cold?’

‘That’s the second reason. Please believe me, I’m not a cruel man by nature, and I’m only doing my duty as I see it. I don’t begrudge you an explanation before you go. It’s the least I can do, apart from making sure that your death will be relatively painless.’

‘My wife-’ I stopped, just in time. Jupiter, that had been close! What I’d been going to say was that Perilla knew he was the perp, so all the cover-ups in the world wouldn’t do him any good. Only I couldn’t say that, could I? Not with Optima standing there. They were friends, and Perilla trusted her; she wouldn’t last five minutes. ‘My wife’ll be wondering where I am. She’ll contact the authorities.’

‘No doubt,’ Sulinus said blandly. ‘She already knows that I was involved somewhere along the line, so perhaps trying to falsify your cause of death is pointless after all.’ Shit! Evidently, I could add mind-reading to the bastard’s accomplishments. ‘Never mind; the decision’s been taken, and this way involves very little extra trouble. She does know about me, doesn’t she?’ I didn’t reply. ‘Oh, come on, Corvinus, I’m not stupid! You must have told her on the way home from Optima’s dinner party, when you put two and two together. Which, of course, is why you’re here now, because Optima is no fool either, and she notices these things. Actually, that isn’t all that important. My part in this is over, so by the time they come looking for me I’ll be gone. And with you dead there’s no way to link me with Optima, which is the crucial thing. No, please don’t be concerned about your wife. I said: I’m neither needlessly cruel nor a villain. As long as she’s no threat she’s quite safe, believe me.’

Well, that was something, at least. Not that it left me bubbling with cheer altogether, mind: there was still that broken neck to look forward to, and I’d try to put that off as long as possible in the hope that something turned up. Not that there was any chance of that.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘You want to explain to me exactly what’s been going on? Just for information.’

‘Naturally. I told you; that’s the other reason why you’re still alive. What have you got so far?’

‘That you’re working for the tribes on the other side of the Gallic Strait, what’s-his-name in particular-’

‘King Caratacus, yes.’

‘-and that you’re fomenting some sort of local revolt in an attempt to get the emperor’s campaign cancelled, or at least postponed. How exactly are you setting about that, incidentally?’

‘With money, first of all, quite a lot of it; gold, supplied by Caratacus and brought in by me over the past few years from Britain. I’ve been stockpiling it since just before the Emperor Gaius’s abortive attempt to invade, and by now we have a war chest of several thousand gold pieces. Crude, yes, but you’d be surprised how much money can buy in Gaul, and who it buys. Not only locals, either; you Romans are a very venal race. However, money’s not the only way, far from it. Some people – idealists, patriots, fanatics if you like – can’t be bought, at any price.’ He put an arm around Optima’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. ‘That’s where my darling girl comes in. She’s one of them herself, you see, so she knows how to talk to them.’

Optima’s chin lifted. ‘My ancestors were chiefs of the Treveri for half a thousand years,’ she said. ‘Julius Florus was my mother’s uncle. People here – influential people – have long memories; they don’t forget their blood or their loyalties, and they’re proud; too proud, given a choice, to knuckle down to you Romans altogether.’

‘And then, last but not least, there’s our druid friend,’ Sulinus said. ‘You never met him, of course, and weren’t likely to, but he’s more important than the two of us combined. He’ll give us the rank and file, the peasants. Weaponless, for the most part, barring a few hunting spears and bows, but there will be a lot of them. Hundreds. And with a druid urging them on they’ll fight to the death.’

I just didn’t believe this. ‘Jupiter!’ I said. ‘That’s all you’re basing your revolt on? A handful of misguided aristocratic malcontents, maybe a few mercenaries in it for the cash, and a mob of yokels who wouldn’t know one end of a sword from the other? They won’t last five minutes when the regulars arrive. You haven’t the faintest chance of winning, not in a million years, any more than Florus had.’

‘Oh, we know that perfectly well,’ Sulinus said calmly.

I stared at him. ‘Then why the hell-!’

‘We don’t expect to win; we never have. But the threat will be enough. If we can force the Roman authorities to divert sufficient troops to deal with it then the British tribes will at least have a breathing space. Caratacus is already treating with the tribes nearest to his own kingdom, persuading them to send armies of their own; a few months – more, if winter intervenes – may make all the difference.’

‘You know how many people will die before you’re finished?’ I said. ‘Not to mention the misery when the troops arrive and your so-called revolt is stamped flat. Which it will be before you can fucking sneeze.’

‘That’s a shame, but it can’t be helped. And it’s in a good cause.’

Said without a smidgeon of emotion. My initial reaction, obviously, was that despite the matter-of-fact delivery the guy was stark raving mad; that all three of them were. Only that didn’t quite cover things, did it? Sulinus was absolutely right; Rome just couldn’t take any risks where Gaul was concerned, not this close to the Rhine with the hostile German tribes on the far bank itching to exploit any weakness, and Balbinus himself had admitted that any distraction could put the kybosh on the emperor’s campaign plans, at least for the time being. Plus the fact that, yes, I had to admit it, we had a clash of genuine principles here: traitors in Roman terms Sulinus and Optima might be, but not by their own reckoning; they had their own loyalties, and alien as they were they were as valid as ours.

Bugger.

‘So Drutus and Anda had to be got rid of before they blew the whistle prematurely?’ I said.

‘Yes.’ Sulinus frowned. ‘We knew – we’ve known for months – that they were spying for Claudius’s lapdog Verica, and so for Governor Hister, but we also knew they were getting nowhere, or nowhere important, anyway. Certainly they didn’t suspect me, not to mention Optima. That all changed when Tarbeisus arrived. I have to admit that it was my own stupid fault; I’m not sure what slip I made exactly that afternoon when we were chatting in the wineshop, but I could see that he’d noticed and it puzzled him. Plus, of course – and far worse – that Drutus’s man Anda had overheard and noticed in his turn. By chance I was already planning to meet with our druid friend that evening outside town. It wasn’t difficult to arrange things so the pair of them followed me – secretly, or so they thought – to the rendezvous, and Segomarus here was already in place, lying hidden in the bushes. He was able to catch them almost completely unawares while they eavesdropped, and that was that. Then naturally we got rid of Tarbeisus as well. Just in case.’