Nick Brown - The Emperor's silver

‘He’s my bodyguard. He told me what you did to the girl. She will be leaving this house today. We can either do it my way or his. I get the impression that he feels you might deserve a taste of your own medicine and I can assure you that he is more proficient at dispensing pain than you will ever be.’

The man walked back to the gate.

‘What’s your name?’ asked Cassius.

‘Fundanus.’

‘Open up, Master Fundanus. Swiftly now.’

As he did so, the Syrian cast anxious glances at the street.

Once they were inside, Cassius gestured to the door.

Fundanus stopped just before reaching it. ‘I do not appreciate being threatened.’

‘Not many people do.’

‘What is your name?’

‘You don’t need to know that. Let’s hurry this along.’

They halted inside the atrium, which was tidy and clean, if rather bare. Below the skylight was a circular basin devoid of water.

‘Who was that at the …’ The mistress of the house walked in. Considering her behaviour and the fact that her husband was so exceptionally unexceptional, Cassius had been expecting some sharp-faced bitch, but the wife was actually rather pretty. She frowned at him.

‘This man wishes to buy Mahalie,’ said Fundanus.

Coins chinked as Simo lowered the saddlebags to the floor.

‘How much?’ said Cassius.

‘Why do you want her?’ asked the woman.

‘Remember the man on the street?’ said Fundanus as he went to stand by his wife. ‘The officer’s bodyguard. He wants to buy her.’

She absorbed this, then looked at the bags. ‘Two thousand.’

‘Let’s be realistic,’ said Cassius. ‘I had my man here check the prices at the market this morning. Unless she’s literate one thousand two hundred is a fair sum.’

‘Two,’ said Fundanus.

‘One and a half,’ said Cassius. The charade would be more convincing if he conducted a proper negotiation.

The wife said, ‘One and three-quarters and you can take her right now.’

‘Oh, she’s coming now, don’t worry about that. One thousand six hundred is my final offer. You must also pass on the correct documentation.’ He offered his hand to Fundanus, who waited until he got a nod from his wife before shaking it.

‘Start counting it out, Simo. Now, where is she?’

The wife walked out of the atrium. Cassius watched Simo retrieve the money bags and place them on a table in rows.

Fundanus said quietly, ‘If he wants her for his whore he’ll be disappointed. She’s no fun at all, that one.’

‘Actually I believe he just wants to get her away from you two. You cut her, is that right?’

Fundanus shrugged. ‘She is ours.’

‘Was.’

The Syrian turned his attention to Simo. ‘How much in each bag?’

‘One hundred,’ said the attendant.

The wife returned, pushing Mahalie ahead of her, one hand on her neck. The girl had a rather plain face and looked very thin but Cassius could see why Indavara found her appealing. She seemed the sort who would never wish harm upon another, who needed protection. They had made a real mess of her hair, and Cassius noted that her tunic was done up to the top, despite the heat.

‘Hello, Mahalie,’ he said. ‘I am a friend of Indavara’s. I have just purchased you but I have no intention of keeping you as a slave. It will take a few days to process the appropriate paperwork but you are now, to all intents and purposes, a freedwoman.’

Mahalie stared at him, then her master, then her mistress.

‘She’s a dopey cow,’ said the wife. ‘I’m glad to be rid of her.’ She shoved Mahalie forward and the girl just stood there, hands resting on the water basin.

Having finished counting out the money, Simo walked over to her. ‘What my master says is true. Would you like to get your things?’

‘Go on, then,’ yelled the wife.

Mahalie ran over to what Cassius assumed to be a cupboard in one corner of the atrium. She pulled back the curtain and he saw that it was in fact a tiny room, complete with a bedroll and a few belongings. She crawled inside and began collecting her things together, then stopped suddenly and began sobbing. Simo hurried over and helped her gather her possessions in a blanket.

‘Thank the gods she’s leaving,’ said the wife. ‘I’ll never have to listen to that bloody noise again.’

Her husband had been counting the bags. ‘It’s all there.’

Cassius caught Simo’s eye and jutted his jaw towards the door. Mahalie was shaking so much that she couldn’t tie the bundle. Simo did it for her and coaxed her out of the atrium.

Fundanus leered at the money bags.

Cassius wished he would be around for the moment when the sergeants arrived. Diadromes had been happy to cooperate. He would wait for Cassius to leave then dispatch Cosmas to the house, acting on a ‘tip-off’ about counterfeit currency. At a later date Fundanus would be informed that no progress had been made with tracing the man who had posed as an army officer. The confiscated coins would of course have to be melted down.

The husband and wife exchanged a gleeful smile.

‘Happy?’ said Cassius.

‘We visited the temple last night,’ said Fundanus. ‘We asked for good fortune. I did not expect it to arrive so swiftly.’

‘I wouldn’t ascribe this to the intervention of the gods,’ replied Cassius. ‘They seldom heed the good and the noble, so I doubt very much if they would listen to the likes of you.’

‘You should leave,’ said the wife.

‘Fear not, I have no wish to remain in your company a moment longer.’

They found a decent tavern several streets away and a well-shaded bench in the courtyard. Corbulo ordered a jug of half and half and Simo poured each of them a mug. Mahalie’s belongings were placed on a nearby chair; she seemed unable to take her eyes off them. Indavara had tried to get her to talk but neither he nor Corbulo had made any progress. When the maid came out to take orders, Simo asked what Mahalie wanted and she at least managed to nod when he suggested soup.

Indavara would have liked to reach across and take her hand, tell her everything would be all right, but he had no idea what she would do. It was hard to tell if she was even happy.

‘Well,’ said Corbulo. ‘I suppose we should discuss the future. What would you like to do now, Mahalie?’

She looked at him and chewed her bottom lip.

‘You have a sister in Antioch?’ said Indavara. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘Well, that’s something,’ said Corbulo. ‘Although I don’t suppose we’ll have time to take you up there ourselves.’

Indavara still held out hope for a few weeks in Berytus but he knew that would just make it harder to leave.

‘My father could help – perhaps come and get her,’ offered Simo.

‘Good idea,’ said Corbulo. He drank from his mug. ‘Mmm. Not bad. Really not bad.’

The bitter wine and water seemed only to make Indavara’s throat even drier.

Mahalie looked down at the table; at the holed, grimy timbers.

‘Is this a dream?’

Now Indavara was the one who couldn’t speak. He remembered his first day of freedom; wandering the streets of Pietas Julia wearing only his torn, bloodied tunic. Eventually he’d had to hide from the curious people, most of whom had just witnessed his triumphant escape from the arena. At nightfall he took himself down to the river to clean his wounds then fell asleep under a tree. When he awoke there, he thought he was dreaming. Except that he could see the very place from which he had escaped. And he could touch the soft grass beneath his fingers and hear water flowing close by. It was real.

Simo put a hand on the girl’s arm. ‘No, Mahalie. This is no dream. You are free.’