David Wishart - Foreign Bodies

‘Yeah? Very laudable and sneaky. You sure that was your only reason, friend?’

He actually blushed. ‘Well, you must admit that your wife is extremely charming and personable. Plus, we shared a genuine interest in local curiosities. In my own defence, when it transpired that your case was taking a more sinister turn I put my duty first straight away. I haven’t seen Perilla for days.’

Hmm. Well, no doubt even government spies got these lecherous urges, and the smoothie bastard had just saved my life, after all. I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, this time round.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘So how did you know about the political side of things to begin with? That was supposed to be top secret.’

‘Oh, that was Balbinus, naturally. He told me.’

I stared at him. ‘Balbinus knew who you were? Or what you were, rather?’

‘Of course. From the very start. I showed him my official credentials almost as soon as I got here. Signed, as I say, by the emperor personally. Licinius Nerva knew, too.’

Fuck; wheels within wheels. I’ll never understand what makes these political bastards tick, or emperors, for that matter; I’m not sure I want to, either. ‘They might have let me in on the secret,’ I said. ‘I am a sodding imperial procurator, after all, for what it’s worth.’ Evidently that wasn’t very much, at the end of the day. ‘You’d’ve thought I rated. As well as having a personal interest.’

‘That would have defeated the purpose. Or at least confused the issue. Both they and I decided it would be better for you not to know, and for me to preserve my anonymity.’

Yeah, well, I supposed he had a point, and it had paid off in the end. Still. ‘So,’ I said. ‘What happens now?’

‘We hand the whole thing over to the people in charge.’ He touched Segomarus/Licnus with his toe. ‘Including this fellow here. I’m sure they’ll deal with it to everyone’s satisfaction.’

I shuddered, remembering what had happened a couple of years previously: yeah, I’d had experience before of traitors, or would-be traitors, being ‘dealt with’, in the bowels of the imperial palace when Gaius was emperor. It wasn’t a memory, unfortunately, that I was ever likely to lose. Things like that had to be done, no doubt, if the state was to be kept safe, but they turned my stomach.

‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘There’s a cart out the back, seemingly. I’ll give you a hand to load chummie here onto it and you can deliver him to Balbinus. Or whoever. Tell him about Sulinus and Optima while you’re at it; no doubt he can pick them up no bother and add them to the bag.’

He frowned. ‘And you? What are you going to do?’

The hell, for once, with moderation. Besides, I reckon I deserved it, because the case was solved. Or at least if my assumptions were right it was. Those I’d have to check, but not today: today, I’d had enough.

‘I, pal,’ I said, ‘am going to find the nearest decent wineshop and get stewed.’

So that just about wrapped it up, both for the Cabirus side of things – barring one small but important detail – and the Treveran conspiracy. That was dead meat, too, if that wasn’t an unfortunate phrase in the circumstances, particularly after Balbinus managed to nail Sulinus’s druid friend, which he did in double-quick time. Me, I was careful not to ask how, but thinking back two years to the question-and-answer session I’d attended chez Gaius I had my sick-making suspicions: Optima was a Roman citizen, sure, so she’d be exempt from torture (not that that had weighed with our former emperor, of course), and she could at least expect a clean death. Sulinus and Segomarus/Licnus were another matter. All I could do – and it didn’t help much – was to tell myself that the result of putting them away had been the saving of hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives and a fresh round of human misery; plus, of course, potentially at least, a new province added to the empire. Lucky Britain.

Yeah, well, not a bad few months’ work, all told. Claudius would be pleased. I’d be glad to get back home, though.

There was still that one small important detail I mentioned, mind, and that I wasn’t looking forward to at all.

We were just about to leave for Lugdunum a couple of days later, Perilla and I, with Perilla upstairs supervising the last of the packing, when Titus Cabirus came into the atrium.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Corvinus,’ he said. ‘But I wondered if I might have a word before you go.’

‘Sure, pal, sit down. We’re in no hurry.’ Bathyllus was hovering. ‘Some wine?’

‘No, thank you. And this won’t take long, so I won’t sit; I’m on duty today, only here by Procurator Laco’s permission.’ He hesitated. ‘I only wanted to make it clear that where my uncle was concerned I knew absolutely nothing about the treason side of things. Or even suspected it.’

‘I never thought you did,’ I said mildly. ‘You’re no traitor. If you had you’d’ve reported it straight off, uncle or not.’

He gave a stiff nod. ‘Good. That’s got that off my chest. I’ll leave you to get on. Have a safe journey home.’

He turned.

‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘You still have some explaining to do, if you don’t mind. On the Lugdunum side.’

He turned back. ‘What needs explaining?’ he said, and for the first time there was an edge to his voice. ‘The case is over. My – Balbinus has told me that Licnus freely confessed to murdering my father. So that’s that; you have your killer. Problem solved.’

I let that one go for the present. The tone, too; although he’d never known him, according to what Brother Quintus had told me back in Lugdunum, thanks to his mother young Titus had idolized his missing uncle all his life. It would’ve come as a shock to discover at one and the same time that the guy had not only been a traitor to Rome but was his father’s murderer into the bargain. He was doing pretty well in keeping his feelings in check, sure, but there was no reason to push things unnecessarily.

Even so.

‘He didn’t say why he did it,’ I said. ‘Not to me, at any rate. You happen to know, by any chance?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Stiff as hell. ‘Or at least I can guess. He did it out of revenge.’

Uh-huh. Revenge. Well, that much was true enough. ‘Care to tell me the details?’ I said.

‘Why should you bother? It can’t matter now. He’s-’ He frowned, and cleared his throat. ‘Once they’re finished questioning him my uncle will be dead anyway, won’t he? They can’t execute him twice, for treason and murder both.’

Yeah; that was how I read it, too. Just as he had, himself. Still, I waited. Finally, Titus said: ‘The time of the Florus revolt, or just after it, rather. My father …’ He stopped, swallowed, then began again, carefully and deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘It seems that my father was secretly passing information to the authorities on who’d been involved and how. Names, details, anything they didn’t already know and might not even suspect. One of the names was Uncle Licnus’s; they’d never got on, even before my father married my mother. Oh, he’d been involved in the revolt, sure, but not to the extent Father told the authorities he was, and that made all the difference between them turning a blind eye and pulling him in. He was lucky; he escaped in time and managed to get clean away. A lot of the men – and women – my father put the finger on weren’t so fortunate.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘Which explains why, when things began to settle, your family had to move to Lugdunum.’

He nodded, his face still completely devoid of expression. ‘People here aren’t stupid; they could put two and two together. Letting bygones be bygones for the sake of peace and harmony was one thing, but knowing someone had actively gone out of their way after the event to betray their own kind stuck in a lot of throats. Where my father was concerned, Augusta wouldn’t have been a very comfortable place to live in future.’