S.J.A. Turney - The Great Game

‘Senova?’

The shuffling and clattering stopped and the muted conversation drifted off.

‘Senova?’ he tried again.

‘Rustius?’

There was another brief, muffled exchange, and then the creamy-white-faced slave girl with her delightfully upturned nose appeared in the corridor, hurrying toward him with an armful of sheets.

‘Rustius? What are you doing? You should not be near here. You will have us both punished!’

Rufinus smiled at her, which simply raised an exasperated sigh. ‘Senova, I need a favour.’

Quarter of an hour later, Rufinus paused at the top of the stairs and glanced around. The slave quarters murmured with the drone of life. The wood of the balconies and walkways was slightly slippery with the morning dew that clung to Latium with damp fingers.

He could just hear the Senova’s voice at the base of the stairs and padded quietly across the top balcony to the vaulted chamber next to the one outside which he’d been standing. With held breath, he listened, but could hear no sound from the room. Lifting the damp blanket that served as a wall to one side, he ducked within to the simple chamber, grateful to find it empty.

He had been a little delayed by his return to the Praetorium, where he had changed into his soft boots and paused to feed Acheron. Briefly he’d wondered if the dog would be of use, but had decided that stealth would win out here.

His breath coming in light bursts, he leaned against the wall, close to the blanket and listened carefully. Two distinct sets of footsteps lifted and fell as they reached the top of the flight of stairs and alighted onto the balcony.

‘So will they bring everyone in for questioning?’

The voice quivered nervously. Rufinus, not distracted by Senova’s physical presence, could read volumes in that voice. Fear mostly. Fear, and panic, and urgency. Not just that. In the aftermath of such an event, all those who had cause to be close to the empress would now be in a cold sweat, panicking about the torture and death that would be heading their way. But this voice held something other than fear, panic and urgency. Hidden beneath those tones was a healthy dose of guilt. Rufinus could almost hear her very bones and blood crying out her culpability and once more shook his head, wondering at the motive behind it all.

‘No.’ Senova’s voice. ‘The empress has another of her gatherings coming up, plus a trip to the capital in the near future. She cannot afford to dismiss her entire staff and buy new ones in time. There’s to be a search.’

The second voice, clearer now as the two women approached the vaulted accommodation next door, sounded even more nervous. ‘Your soldier friend told you all this?’

There was a pause and Rufinus wondered what was happening, pictured Senova miming things to her, though if she’d wanted to interfere, she could have done it long before they’d arrived.

‘We have… an understanding. I think he worries about me, that I might be connected or have something to do with it. They’re going to search all the servant and slaves quarters first and then go room by room in the palace. What they plan to do if they don’t find it then, I’ve no idea, but I suspect it’ll go bad for us all.’

Rufinus smiled in the darkness. Every morsel of information he’d passed to Senova, delivered perfectly. The smile faltered for only a moment as his conscience once more presented him with the fact that he was becoming a very accomplished liar.

‘Then let’s hope they find it eh?’

Rufinus could almost hear the panicked twang in her voice now and his smile returned.

‘Anyway, I have to get on. See you later’

The sound of Senova’s sandals slapping on the wood echoed in the vaulted chamber and then muted slightly on the balcony as she made for the stairs and descended them quickly.

Rufinus stood as still as he could, breath held as he listened intently for activity in the next chamber. There were a couple of shuffles, but no sounds that Rufinus would associate with a person digging deep into secret places to retrieve a hidden object. Then, a moment later, he heard the girl pass to the chamber’s entrance and the sound of a blanket being shifted. The occupant of the next room paused and Rufinus realised that he could still hear Senova as she neared the base of the staircase.

As that sound turned into a distant echo in the tunnel that ran along the length of the chambers toward the main villa entrance, finally the girl in the next room moved, presumably having waited long enough for Senova to leave.

Rufinus continued to listen intently as the girl’s footsteps rattled out across the wooden platform and began the tell-tale thud of descent toward the ground.

Waiting until he heard the sound change indicating that she had reached the first landing, Rufinus ducked back through the blanket and out onto the platform. Just to be sure, he crossed lightly to the edge and took a quick look over, at the staircase below and off to his left. His boxing history had provided him with more talents than simply beating a man insensible: despite his tendency to embarrassing accidents, Rufinus was extremely light on his feet when he needed to be, dancing quietly along in soft leather boots.

His gaze shifted back and forth among the supports and flights of stairs until it fell on his quarry. There she was. Galla, the slave girl with bronze skin, almond eyes and wavy black hair, hurried down the staircase, clutching her garments tight around her as she descended. He couldn’t say why it was that he knew she was the culprit, beyond the fact that she’d clearly been nervous for some months and was keeping secrets from even her closest friend. But he’d somehow known it was her as soon as the theft had been announced.

Lightly and carefully he descended the stairs, pausing occasionally to glance ahead and judge how far away she was. As Galla alighted on the ground and disappeared into the tunnel, Rufinus picked up his pace and started to gain on his quarry.

A few moments later he was in the tunnel. Pausing again, he could hear a number of footsteps echoing through the subterranean corridor and delivered an inward curse. It would be impossible to follow the sound of her and he would hardly see her from here. There was nothing for it now but to hope that she intended to exit the tunnel at the far end, by the common exit.

Picking up his pace, he turned the corner and rushed along the corridor, ignoring and ignored by the other servants and slaves going about their business in the dim interior. Of Galla there was no sign, and he began to curse himself for not staying closer, however risky it might be. Ignoring the faces that turned to look at him, he started to run, pounding along the corridor with light, slapping footsteps.

At the far end, he ducked quickly into the staircase and hurried up to the level of the villa’s main structures. At the top, he paused for breath and glanced left and right urgently, trying to spot his prey. A number of figures moved around the garden between here and Pompeianus’ palace, and he almost missed her. It was only the slight movement in the corner of his right eye that drew his gaze as Galla, plain brown stola pulled tight around her, as she veered off from the residential sectors of the villa and toward the golden house and the amphitheatre that languished on the slope below. Rufinus knew the area well from his time patrolling the grounds, but in all that time he’d rarely seen servants there.

Frowning as he moved, he followed the slave girl along the line of the palace’s outer wall, skirting the golden house and disappearing through a small gate in the wall that lined the perimeter of the inhabited sections of the complex. A short set of steps led down to the dilapidated huntsman’s house, where the half dozen hunt masters who looked after Hadrianus’ hounds and hawks had resided. No upkeep had been carried out on the building in decades and already ivy was attacking the outer walls.