A Bitter Chill (26 page)

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Authors: Jane Finnis

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Historical, #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General

BOOK: A Bitter Chill
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I couldn’t help smiling. “If you promise you’ve brought no irritating relations, you’re very welcome.”

“Thank you.” He turned back to the door, where the carriage driver stood waiting. “You can go back to the villa now. Pick me up from here at noon tomorrow. And if the fun and games start again, I’ll expect a full report, all right?”

The slave grinned. “Very good, sir. But I think the show’s over for tonight.”

“Fun and games?” Albia asked, as I shut the big door and we trooped over to the fire. “What have you been up to, apart from having a quarrel with Sempronia?”

“Oh, wait till you hear!” He turned to his slave. “Take my things to the room I had before. That’ll be all right, won’t it, m’dear?”

Albia nodded. “I’ll get someone to put a brazier in there. And I’m afraid we’ve nothing very grand to offer you for dinner. Or have you had a meal at Silvanius’ already?”

“Not yet. But you’ve got some of that excellent Campanian red wine, haven’t you?” He sat down, rubbing his hands.

“I daresay we can find a mug or two for a valued customer. Especially one who likes the stuff so much he’s driven through the winter snow for it!” Albia fetched a wine-jug and beaker, and poured the lawyer a drink.

Priscus said to Horatius, “So you’ve heard nothing more about Margarita and Gaius?”

“No, ’fraid not. But I have one piece of news that will please you, I think. A certain confidential secretary got what he deserved today.”

“If you mean the Weasel,” Priscus remarked, “what he deserves is a sound thrashing.”

Horatius chuckled. “And that’s what he got. Timaeus gave him a good beating.”

“Timaeus! You’re right, that does please me. But why?”

“Because Diogenes didn’t get Margarita and Gaius released. In fact he accused the Weasel of making a deal with the kidnappers, that the two of them wouldn’t ever be ransomed, but would be left with the gang. Diogenes denied it, of course, and kept insisting he’d just done the best he could.” Horatius took a long drink of his wine.

“He’s an evil little rat,” Priscus said, “and I agree he overstepped his authority when he let them take Aurelia. But surely he’d never betray Margarita and Gaius like that? Sempronia and Plautius would have his hide, wouldn’t they?”

“Ah, but that’s not all. Timaeus really laid into him. I thought he was going to kill him at one stage. He had him on the floor in a stranglehold, and kept demanding that he admit what he’d done. And Diogenes suddenly changed his tune and said, ‘All right, I admit it. I’ve got rid of those two for good. It’s what my lord and lady wanted, and I’ve done it.’ Well naturally, that made Timaeus madder than ever, but by then somebody had run and told Sempronia what was going on, and she sent a couple of the bodyguards in to stop the fight. I was rather sorry myself.”

We were all digesting this when Quintus strode in through the main door. “Any chance of some service in this bar?” He glanced round the room in surprise. “Well well, quite a reception party. I expected Priscus, but you, Horatius? Has Silvanius run out of wine already?”

“Sempronia’s turned it all sour,” the lawyer grunted.

Quintus gave me a smile and a nod, and discreetly squeezed my hand as I helped him out of his cloak. He thanked me politely when I handed him a beaker of spiced wine. Oh well, I thought, we’re back to the starting-gate. Whatever his reasons, when there are other people about, he’s distant and cold with me. But when we’re alone…. I resolved to get us alone again as soon as possible.

Priscus shook Quintus’ hand, reminding me that the two of them hadn’t met yet, at least not on this journey. However, they obviously knew one another slightly.

“Antonius, it’s good to see you. And I thank you for rescuing Aurelia. I’m ashamed of the way she was treated, just to get me released.”

“It’s not your fault,” Quintus answered, sitting down by the fire. “It was Diogenes who left poor Aurelia in the lurch. And now, I’m very much afraid, Margarita and Gaius are in an even worse situation.”

“What’s happened? Do you know where they are?”

“No. Hawk and I followed them as far as we could, till it got too dark to see. That’s why I didn’t come back sooner.” He took a long draught of wine. “Gods, I’ve been dreaming about a good spiced drink all day! The natives rode towards Eburacum, but they hadn’t got far when a farm cart came up the road to meet them, with three more riders. There was some arguing, because apparently the cart should have been waiting by the holly-bush. We have to be thankful it wasn’t,” he added, smiling at me. “They loaded Margarita and Gaius into the cart and covered them with some sacks, and all moved off together. I’m afraid there was nothing we could do to stop them. They went straight past the Oak Bridges turning, so they may be heading for Eburacum, or probably somewhere closer for tonight. It was full dark by then, so it was pointless to search any more tonight.”

Priscus was dismayed. “But how will we know where to find them? To hand over the rest of the ransom and get them back? I suppose they’ll send us a message.
Merda,
more waiting! And my poor Margarita and Gaius, prisoners all night in the cold!”

“Prisoners for good, I’m afraid,” Quintus said gently. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, Priscus, but I think you’ll be lucky to see either of them again.”

“But Diogenes said he’d be taking the rest of the ransom to the gang as soon as Father could raise the money. He told me it would only be a matter of days…. Why are you looking at me like that, as if you don’t believe a word I’ve said?”

“I don’t believe a word
Diogenes
said, and neither should you. I’m afraid I’ve got some information that will upset you, Priscus. Diogenes has arranged for you to be released, but for the kidnappers to keep Margarita and Gaius.”

“Keep them? But when Father sends the rest of the money….”

“He isn’t going to send any more money.”

Priscus shrank away, as if he’d received a physical blow. “You mean—he’s agreed that the gang will keep Margarita and Gaius
for good?

Quintus nodded. “Yes. But more likely they’ll be sold rather than kept. They’ll fetch plenty at the Eburacum slave market.”

“No! No, I can’t believe it. How in Jupiter’s name do you know all this?” Priscus sounded almost accusing. “Did the kidnappers tell you? Or Diogenes?”

“Of course not. But I caught most of their conversation. After Aurelia was marched out of earshot, Diogenes and Otus and a couple of his men held a meeting in the clearing, to discuss what to do with you and the others. They assumed they were safe from eavesdroppers, standing in the middle of a wide open space.”

“You managed to overhear them? I don’t see how! We couldn’t catch anything they said from inside the roundhouse. We tried.”

“I couldn’t hear their voices, but I watched their lips move.” He smiled at me. “Aurelia, you’ve heard me speak of my old Aunt Antonia?”

“Yes. She lives in Rome, and spoils her nephew disgracefully.”

“More to the point, she’s stone deaf. She has been for years. But she’s learned the art of interpreting what people say from the way their lips move, without needing to catch the sounds. She taught the trick to me when I was a boy.”

“I don’t believe you, you cocky bastard.” I mouthed the words soundlessly, and he laughed.

“Aurelia says she doesn’t believe me because I’m a cocky bastard. Well, I’m a cocky bastard who can read people’s lips. I managed to follow most of Diogenes’ negotiations with the gang, except for one man, because he stood with his back to me the whole time.”

“How thoughtless of him,” I mouthed.

Quintus nodded. “Yes, Aurelia, it was extremely thoughtless, but one has to put up with these things.” He became serious again. “Priscus, are you satisfied that I can give you a reasonable account of what was said today?”

Priscus hesitated, then mouthed a few silent words.

Quintus nodded. “He says, ‘I’ll believe you if you can understand me, otherwise it’s just a trick.’”

“Very well, I’m convinced,” Priscus agreed. “Go on.”

“Wait,” Albia cut in suddenly. “There’s something I need to see to in the kitchen before we start. Relia, could you come and help me please?”

Priscus began to object, but I recognised that Albia had something urgent to say, so I got up to follow her. “I expect it’s about the beans,” I said, for Quintus’ benefit. “We won’t be long.”

“Gods,” Horatius muttered, “Sempronia isn’t the only woman who likes ordering everyone around.”

“These two usually do it with more tact than Sempronia,” Quintus answered.

I mouthed something very rude in his direction, and we went into the kitchen. There, calmly sitting at the big table, was Candidus. They both laughed when they saw my surprise.

“Sorry, Relia,” Albia said. “He arrived at midday. He’d heard rumours about the kidnapping, and wanted to be sure I was all right. We were going to tell you.”

“And I’m the Queen of Brigantia! You just enjoy sneaking around like a couple of sixteen-year-olds avoiding a disapproving father.”

“It has its attractions,” Candidus grinned. “But I’m not sure whether I should stay out of the way tonight. I don’t want to upset my brother any more than he’s upset already.”

“Why should your being here upset him?”

“I’m afraid he may resent what I’ve done, running away and everything. It dumps all the family responsibility onto his shoulders.”

“Listen,
children.
” I wagged my finger at them. “You can’t play hide-and-seek like this. And I for one am glad to see you, Candidus. It means you’ll be coming with us to Silvanius’ banquet tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

“I doubt it.”

“Of course it does. Clarus wants you to be there, and more important, your father wants to see you. He asked me to get a message to you, only with all this hostage business I hadn’t done it. He says he won’t consider going back to Londinium until he’s had a chance to talk to you.”

“Which means,” Albia put in, “that your parents may be trailing round Brigantia for months, just because you’re being stubborn. Your father’s ill. Your mother’s….”

“Giving everyone a hard time,” Candidus finished. “I suppose, if you put it like that, I’d better come. After all, what harm can it do? I’ve only got to see him, not change my mind about anything.”

I expect my sigh of relief was audible in Oak Bridges.

“Meantime,” he looked at Albia, “do you think Aurelia’s right, and I ought to go in there and have it out with Priscus?”

“I’m always right, it’s a well-known fact. Get it over, that’s my advice. And I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. I believe Priscus rather admires the stand you and Albia are taking. So you might find you have an ally against your parents.”

When Candidus entered the bar-room, there was a stunned silence for a few heartbeats. Then Priscus jumped up and ran to him, and they embraced like—well, like long-lost brothers. Far from resenting Candidus, Priscus was overjoyed to see him. They hadn’t set eyes on each other for three years, and it was good to see the happiness their reunion brought them.

We ate dinner sitting round the bar-room fire, and Albia and I brought the food in ourselves, so we could talk without any of the servants overhearing. The meal was simple compared with the fare we’d given our guests on previous nights: venison stew with vegetables and fresh bread, followed by cheese, nuts, and raisins, and washed down with Falernian.

While we ate, Quintus told us about the exchange he’d heard—or should I say seen?—in the clearing that morning. “Otus and Diogenes did most of the talking. Diogenes began by saying he had his master’s authority to negotiate, and he even produced a papyrus to prove it.”

“You couldn’t see that, surely.” Priscus was clearly still sceptical.

“No, but Otus read it out to the other two men. It appeared to be from Plautius, giving Diogenes full power to act for him and Sempronia.”

“Do you think Father could have written something like that?” Candidus looked at Priscus.

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Or perhaps the Weasel forged it. I’ll find out. Sorry, Antonius, go on.”

“First of all Diogenes offered the twenty gold pieces he’d brought along as full ransom for all three prisoners, and Otus laughed in his face. So Diogenes suggested that they should release Priscus in exchange for the twenty aurei, and keep the other two, to do as they liked with. He made a point of how valuable they were.”

There was a shocked exclamation from Candidus, and Priscus used some barrack-room language to describe Diogenes.

Quintus took a couple of mouthfuls of stew. “Otus liked that idea, and his two men seemed happy with it. One of them asked Otus what he proposed doing with Margarita and Gaius. He said he’d sell them to a slave dealer he knew, who’d either auction them in Eburacum, or maybe send them for sale down south, where they’d fetch a good price. Whatever money is made will be divided up among the gang.”

“Down south!” Priscus repeated, appalled.

“One of the men, the one I couldn’t see, seemed to be insisting the prisoners should belong to the gang as a whole and be used by all of them, but Otus said he would punish anyone who laid a finger on either prisoner. Not from moral scruples, of course, but they’ll be much more valuable if they’re sold in good condition.”

“That’s something, I suppose,” Priscus said sadly.

“Did you happen to see any discussion about why they decided to capture me?” Well, naturally I was curious.

Quintus smiled grimly. “Oh yes. Diogenes told Otus to imprison you for a day or two to teach you a lesson, then let you go even if no ransom was paid. It seems he doesn’t like you much.”

“It’s mutual.”

Priscus turned and asked me, “When’s the next slave auction?”

“Four days from now, I think.”

“In the middle of the holiday?” Horatius was scandalised. “They can’t do that, surely.”

“We only celebrate Saturnalia for three days in this district,” I explained, “because of being quite near the frontier. There’s always a slave auction a day or two after the holiday, and before the beginning of January.”

“Then if they’re being sold there, we can buy them back,” Priscus said.

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