David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

‘Right,’ I said. ‘I was wondering how our Burdigalan pal came into it.’ Segomarus grinned at me, but said nothing. ‘You two had met before, yes?’

‘Actually no, we hadn’t. Oh, we knew of each other’s existence; he was in Augusta for a purpose, as I was, and he’d been instructed to make contact as soon as he got here.’

‘Instructed by your British friends?’

‘Yes, indeed. By Caratacus personally, in fact. But he’s no Burdigalan; he’s never been to Burdigala, no more than I’ve been to Caesarodunum. He came here by a very roundabout route, of course, for reasons of security, but he’s spent most of the past twenty years at King Caratacus’s court.’

I turned my attention to Segomarus. ‘Is that so, now?’ I said.

‘That, Corvinus, is so,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, but there you are. I’m more British than Gaulish nowadays, I’m afraid.’

‘Uh-huh. So why exactly did you come? Or were sent, rather?’

‘To Augusta? Because I still had friends here. Old comrades-in-arms, people who knew and trusted me from the time of the Florus revolt, that I could put Sulinus in touch with and the other way round. Save him a lot of time and trouble, not to mention minimizing the risk of sounding out the wrong ones and so maybe putting the whole conspiracy in jeopardy. A twenty years’ absence is a long time, sure, I look a lot different from how I did before, intentionally so, and naturally I had a different name, but like Optima told you people here have long memories. Some things they don’t forget.’ He was watching me, still smiling. ‘Come on, Corvinus, you’re being thick! I’d expected better! You haven’t got there yet?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I promised you I’d help you solve the Cabirus family side of things, and I always keep my promises. I reckon you owe me a jug of wine. Not that you’ll be in any position to honour your side of the bargain, mind, but under the circumstances we’ll let it go.’

Oh, shit: the penny finally dropped. ‘You’re Licnus,’ I said. ‘Diligenta’s brother.’

‘Congratulations. Give the man the nuts.’

Sweet gods! ‘Does she know? Your sister?’

‘Of course she does. Why do you think I went back to Lugdunum before I came on here? I had to see her while I was in Gaul. We were always close, her and me.’

‘You’re saying she knew all the time?’ I was still trying to take it in. ‘Right from the start?’

‘No. For all she knew – for all any of them knew – I was dead and gone. The last Diligenta saw of me was here, the time of the revolt, and precious little then. I had to run to save my skin, and bloody fast, at that. I ran all the way to Britain, where you Romans couldn’t get me, and I’ve been there ever since. Wife, family, the lot. I said: nowadays I’m far more a Catuvellaunan than I am a Gaul. Only I couldn’t let the opportunity slip, could I? Even if it did take me a bit out of my way.’

Things were beginning to add up. ‘Titus,’ I said. ‘He knew too.’

‘I told him myself, right after I told Diligenta. Made a point of it. He’s a good lad, my nephew. Pity he’s chosen the wrong side, but I bear him no ill-will for that; he’s sound enough at heart, and young enough to change his mind. He’ll see Rome for what she is, in the end.’

‘What about the other boy? Publius?’

‘No, Publius doesn’t know who I am. Or I assume he doesn’t, unless either Diligenta or Titus let it out. I’m afraid I don’t have much time for young Publius. The lad’s a milksop.’

‘All this – telling your sister and your nephew, I mean – would’ve been before your brother-in-law’s death, would it?’

That got me a bland look. ‘Shortly before, yes. As it happens.’

‘And there would be a connection?’

‘There might be. But I’ve said all I’m saying.’ He glanced at Sulinus, who’d been watching the exchange with a smile on his lips. ‘He’s had enough time. Let’s get it over with.’

‘Fair enough,’ Sulinus said. My blood ran cold. ‘Optima and I will leave you to it. The wagon’s round the back. We can take the body out of town as soon as it gets dark.’ He hesitated, then turned to me. ‘Goodbye, Valerius Corvinus. You won’t believe me, I know, but I am truly sorry about this, and about the other deaths. I wish none of it had been necessary. However, there really is too much at stake. It has to be done.’

‘Yeah. Right.’ I felt sick.

They left. Optima didn’t even give me a backward glance.

‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too,’ Segomarus – Licnus – said. ‘You were good company, Corvinus, and I’m not a killer either by nature. Even so-’

He moved towards me. I tugged desperately on the ropes, but I was tied securely, wrists and ankles. If I could just overbalance the chair, maybe, head-butt the bastard in the chest-

I almost made it; near enough, anyway, for him to take a cautious step back. Which was when fate in its most unlikely and unexpected guise took a hand …

He’d obviously been waiting, hidden, outside somewhere until Sulinus and Optima had gone. Now he edged in and came up on Licnus from behind. There was no messing, either; whatever he was holding – it might’ve been a table leg – came down on the other guy’s head with a solid thump. Licnus folded up and lay at my feet like a wrung-out dishrag.

‘So,’ I said to Crinas when he’d untied me and used the ropes to tie up the still-unconscious and seriously damaged Segomarus/Licnus. ‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were on your way to Moguntiacum.’

He grinned. ‘Yes, well, I’m afraid I have a small admission to make.’

‘Yeah?’ Gods, today was just chock-full of surprises, wasn’t it? ‘And what’s that, now? Believe me, if it can explain how the fuck you knew I’d be in a crumbling Gallic shack tied to a chair and about to have my neck broken, let alone why you should be on hand to help in the first place, then “small” isn’t the word I’d use for it, pal. Not that I’m not grateful, mind.’

‘The first bit’s easy. I followed you.’

‘Fine. That I might’ve guessed, given time and several goes at it. Now what about the second?’

‘That’s the admission.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Yes, as I told you and Perilla, I am a doctor charged with reporting on the local hot springs for possible exploitation by the Rhine garrisons. However, my other purpose – less, ah, overt – is information gathering of a different kind.’

Uh-huh. Click. ‘In other words, you’re a spy,’ I said. Bugger; the woods were full of them. It would seem you couldn’t move a yard in Gaul without tripping over one of the bastards.

‘More or less.’ He was looking, for Smarmer, unaccustomedly sheepish. ‘Specifically, though, I had the task – given to me by the emperor personally, I hasten to add – of watching your back. Should you need it.’

I stared at him; that I hadn’t been expecting. ‘Why in the gods’ name should Claudius think I needed my back watching?’ I said. ‘He sent me out on a straightforward murder investigation. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff was incidental. Not to say accidental.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But he’s a very clever man; very clever indeed, and very cautious. Perhaps he was just making doubly sure of your safety while you were engaged on his private business, no more than that. Even so, I had my instructions, and they were quite clear and unequivocal.’

‘What was all this business of squiring my wife around the sites? How does that square?’

‘You seemed in no particular danger for the present,’ he said. ‘It was a good way of checking up on your movements at second hand, without making you suspicious.’