Адриан Голдсуорти - Brigantia

‘There were three,’ Ovidius cut in. ‘Two men and a woman.’

‘Do not tire yourself,’ the doctor said without looking up from his work. ‘And do not put strain on those stitches. I refuse to let my patients die until I say so.’

Ovidius managed to laugh. ‘This is important, good doctor, and soon I trust that your potion will give me blissful sleep.

‘I was on my way to the legate’s room. He had taken one of the documents I have found and I needed to check something. There were voices, a man and woman talking, though I could not catch the words. I called out, thinking it must be some of his household and not wanting to alarm them by appearing suddenly. Slaves can be nervous if you surprise them when they are doing something they should not, so it is always better to warn of your approach. Then the woman started screaming for help. I ran in…’

‘Of course, our aged Hector.’ Crispinus was grinning.

‘Well, I ran in. Saw a man, his arm raised to strike a cowering woman, and I punched him. I’d forgotten I had a stylus in my hand and the point was sharp enough to draw blood. He yelped and jumped in the air, then another one came at me and as I turned to face him, I was struck in the side. The woman had stabbed me.’ The old man sounded truly puzzled.

‘What did they look like?’ Ferox asked.

Ovidius shook his head. His skin seemed even paler apart from the dark rings around his eyes, but there was a proud defiance in his face. ‘I do not really know. It was dark in there, and everything happened so fast. Their clothes were drab. The one I stabbed had a shaven head, the other dark hair. The woman was pretty, I think, quite tall and full figured.’

Crispinus smirked. ‘You are not that old then.’

‘What colour hair did she have?’ Ferox asked.

‘Dark, probably. I think so anyway. There was not much light, and it is hard to say. I am sorry, but what matters is that they stole the cloak. The chest was in that room, and they prised it open.’

‘Was that all?’

‘Yes. Well, apart from a scroll that was on the table. It was written by Prasto, but I believe would not be much use unless you already had a good understanding of this matter. But you know what this means?’

Ferox nodded. Someone close to the legate must have told the thieves what to take and where to find it. ‘Acco is in Londinium.’

Crispinus gasped, and then recovered his poise almost immediately. ‘Here. Are you sure?’

‘He tried to burn me to death last night.’

‘That sounds definite.’ Ovidius laughed and it did not seem to cause him pain. ‘Well, we are glad he failed in his attempt. Are we not, noble Crispinus?’

‘Fairly glad.’ The white haired young aristocrat was grinning broadly. If he had recognised Ferox at the warehouse then he was hiding it well.

‘Quiet, all of you.’ The doctor had come over to the bed and was holding a bowl. ‘That is enough.’

‘Not yet, doctor, I pray you.’ Ovidius pushed himself to sit up a little more. ‘This is important. The legate left orders for the centurion, but I must explain some of them.’ He was struggling for breath, but waved the doctor back.

‘We are to go to Mona,’ Crispinus said. ‘We will take your men and an escort of Batavians, but we must go within the hour. If Acco was in Londinium a few hours ago then we may have a chance to beat him there. The legate wants us to find the last of these treasures and keep them safe or destroy them. He has written our orders, and we are just making up the passes and letters instructing all garrisons to aid us.’

‘I have made notes, some from memory.’ Ovidius winced and closed his eyes The pain was obviously growing, but he struggled on. ‘Prasto returned to the island when Agricola attacked. He describes an old shrine and I am sure he believed that items of the greatest value were buried or somehow hidden there. It is the best I can manage, I am afraid, but hopefully will guide you.’ He was gasping for breath.

‘That is enough.’ The doctor was a small man, yet somehow managed to loom over the room. He crouched beside the old man and held a small bowl to his lips. ‘Drink this. It will help.’

There was the sound of shouting from outside and the door was flung open. Crassus stood in the doorway, his face red. He saw the doctor and the injured man and sagged a little, but then noticed Ferox and the anger returned.

‘This man is a murderer. He should be under guard until the trial and punishment can be arranged. Hercules’ balls, why is he here and not in a cell?’

Ferox stiffened to attention. The young tribune stood up, and Crassus flinched slightly because he had not seen him in the corner of the room. ‘Noble Crassus, it is good to see you.’ The tribune smiled warmly. ‘I shall personally ensure that the centurion is kept under close watch, but for the moment the legate has need of him, and so do I.’

‘Neratius Marcellus is no longer here, and left before the crime was known. I am now senior, and thus in charge until the governor returns. I shall take full responsibility.’ Ferox got the impression that Crassus did not much care for the younger man. ‘He is to be locked in a cell and that is an end to it.’

‘I have written orders, if you would care to read them, signed and sealed by my uncle. He requires Ferox for a special task, the importance of which overrides everything else – at least for the moment.’

‘What task?’

‘I am sure that in due course the governor will confide in his senior and trusted subordinates.’

‘Not good enough. Not good enough at all, dear Crispinus. This is too delicate a matter for me to take a risk, surely you must see that. I have authority and I have made the decision.’

‘Servilius.’ Ovidius croaked the word. He had pushed himself up, glassy eyes fixed on Crassus. ‘Servilius,’ he said again.

Ferox was close enough to see Crassus blink several times. He had no idea who Servilius was, but the power of the name was obvious.

‘The legate’s orders are specific and in writing.’ Crispinus was holding up the tablet. ‘There are copies here so that there can be no doubt that you act according to his instructions.’ He stepped closer. ‘Come, obeying them is the prudent course. Time is pressing and the legate will not take kindly to needless delay.’

‘Very well. But make sure this rogue does not escape.’

‘You have my oath on that, my dear Crassus. Justice will be served.’ There was a hard edge to the tribune’s voice. Ferox still wondered how much he knew or suspected, and whose side the young aristocrat was really on. ‘Let me call a couple of soldiers to watch this fellow while he returns to his quarters to collect a few things.’

‘This is a risk, though,’ Crassus said. ‘A great risk.’

‘And one the governor is taking, not us.’

‘In my experience blame spreads a long way. I want it on record that I am against this course of action.’

‘It shall be set down.’ Crispinus turned to the clerk. ‘See to it.’

Less than a hour later, they started to make their way through the streets on their way out of the town. Seventeen horsemen, most heavily armed, and led by the tribune in his polished cuirass and high plumed helmet, ought to have been sufficiently impressive to clear the path, but Londinium was Londinium and trade was trade, and the stall holders yelled and haggled, and there was no quick way through the crowds. Some people watched them with suspicion. The legate had left late at night, taking almost half the soldiers in the town with him, and there were rumours of war and rebellion. Another senior officer riding away was not encouraging, and it added to the nervousness all could feel. Even sadder was Gannascus’ slave girl, who walked with them to the edge of the town, weeping and kissing the big warrior’s boot and leg as he rode. Philo walked beside her, and he would take charge of her while they were away. Crispinus had been clear that the boy was not to go with them, for they would be riding hard into who knew what perils, and they could not take care of him. Ferox was glad that he had not had to give the order, and at least there had been time for the lad to shave him before they set out.