Buried Too Deep (24 page)

“It must have been a dreadful shock for you.”

She shrugged, and took a long drink of wine.

“But I don’t understand why Magnus felt Aquilo had betrayed him by his liaison with Elli. He’d just decided to make peace with Bodvocus, and of all the three brothers, Aquilo was the one who supported him in that, because he wanted an alliance with Elli’s family. How could that be a betrayal?”

She looked at me pityingly. “Gods alive, I’d have thought it was obvious. Elli’s father will be angrier than an exploding volcano when he hears what’s happened. Their code of honour is strict, he’ll want to put Elli to death. So will Coriu. Aquilo will try to stop them, and they may make him fight Coriu for her. He’d probably do it too, the stupid young idiot, he’s so much in love. Coriu could kill him with one hand tied behind his back.” She smiled suddenly. “Even with his broken arm, he could wipe the floor with Aquilo. Vividus and Ferox couldn’t accept that. Don’t you see? At the very moment when we might have got everyone to agree to peace, Aquilo and Elli have provided a whole new set of reasons for Bodvocus and the Ostorii to hate each other for ever.”

“Let’s hope you’re wrong. Most of the guards here are already spoiling for a fight with the Parisi, blaming them for Magnus’ death. So the quicker we can find the real murderer, the better.”

She nodded.

“As I see, it, if you didn’t kill him, and I accept that you didn’t, there are three possibilities. Tell me which you think is the most likely. Either it was one of his nephews—Vividus or Ferox, as Aquilo was miles away.”

She nodded. “That’s possible.”

“Or it was someone else in the household, a servant with a grudge perhaps.”

“That’s possible too, but not very likely. The old man could be harsh, I’m not saying he couldn’t, and some of the slaves resented it. But none of them ever went into the bath-house first thing. It was cleaned and tidied each night at bed-time, to be ready for the master and me at dawn. Everybody knew that, and if one of the others had sneaked in, he’d have been noticed.”

“Unless he went in there last night and hid until morning?”

“That’d be quite hard. The servants aren’t allowed to be away from the Fort at night, and they all sleep in the slave block near the back wall. Each section of the block has a senior trusted slave in charge, who’d report if anyone was missing. I’m not saying it’s completely out of the question, but it wouldn’t be easy. And it seems a bit far-fetched to suggest that one man had a blazing row with Magnus, then left him, and a different man came out of hiding and stabbed him.”

“It does, I admit. And the same goes for my third possibility, which I think is the least credible, but we can’t ignore it, as it’s the most popular theory in the household…”

She nodded. “Bodvocus, or Coriu, or the Long-hairs, or all three of them together. No, I don’t believe that. It’s an Ostorius pastime, blaming the natives or the pirates for everything that goes wrong. And because they’re all so obsessed with security and protecting themselves, the Fort gets more and more like a real military base every day. No outsider could have got into the main area unobserved, even through the Achilles gate, never mind finding a way into a private place like the baths.”

“The Achilles gate? Which one’s that?”

She smiled slyly. “Can you keep a secret?”

“I’ll have to pass it on to Quintus Antonius, but nobody else, I promise.”

“The Achilles gate is the smallest one in the back wall, nearly in the corner, tucked away behind the slave block. It’s kept locked all the time. But it isn’t hard to get hold of the key.”

I felt a twinge of excitement. “So if one of the lads fancies a night away from the Fort, he could ask, for instance, that big Gaul Rinacus for a favour, and borrow a key for a few hours?”

I’d mentioned Rinacus because his was the only name I knew so far, but her look of surprise told me it was a lucky guess.

“You don’t miss much, do you? Yes, Rinacus is the man for fixing most things here at the Fort. He’d never put his masters in danger, but he’s not above making a silver piece or two for himself. I suppose he learnt that in the army. He’s stashed away enough to set himself up in business, if he wants to, but Magnus would never hear of him leaving. And he enjoys the power he has here, so maybe he’ll stay a while longer even with Magnus gone.”

Something in her tone made me ask, “A special friend of yours, is he?”

“Let’s just say he sometimes asks favours as well as granting them.”

“Favours?”

“I told you. Men are easy.”

“Well then, we come to the most important question.” I paused, knowing it was also the most difficult for her to answer. “You said you thought you heard either Vividus or Ferox arguing with their uncle. If you had to say which one it was…?”

“I don’t know. It could have been either. They both have hot tempers, and both are strong enough to kill a big man like Magnus with a dagger. He was used to both of them coming into the baths sometimes, even if it was for an argument. He was like their father. Fathers and sons always row, don’t they, especially when the boys get older and want to assert themselves. Both of them had been officers in the army, and Magnus respected that in a way, but then he thought that he, as the senior officer, should be able to boss them about as if they were still in the legion. Naturally they didn’t like it. I’ve wondered sometimes if it was such a good idea, Magnus bringing all his nephews here to run a family farm. They might have been better with a bit of distance between them.”

“They could have refused to join him,” I pointed out.

“It wouldn’t have occurred to them. The Ostorii have always been a close family, they see their lives and their futures together. Except Aquilo. He’s a fool in most things, but he wants to get away from the others, live his own kind of life, with his poetry and his music. I’ve a sneaking admiration for that. I doubt if he’ll ever do it though.”

“Aquilo is out of the running here. Vividus and Ferox are in the lead, neck and neck. You won’t even guess which of them would be more likely to get so enraged with Magnus that it ended in murder?”

“No, I won’t.” She returned my gaze calmly. I knew I couldn’t get any more out of her for now.

“Fair enough.” I stood up. “You’ve been a real help to me. Thanks for being so honest about everything.”

“And thank you,” she answered gravely, “for accepting that I’m telling the truth.”

I turned at the door. “Niobe, if you think of anything else that might help us catch the killer, you will tell me, won’t you? Because you realise that while he’s still free, you may be in danger yourself.”

“Me? I don’t think so.”

“How sure are you that you weren’t seen leaving the bath-house this morning? Or even if you weren’t seen, the man who killed Magnus would know that you usually went there at dawn and might have noticed something. If he thought you’d identified him…”

For the first time since we’d met, her confidence wavered, and she looked alarmed. “But I’ve told you, I’ve told everyone, I don’t know who it was!”

“And I believe you, but the killer may not, or he may not want to take chances. So watch your back, Niobe, and if anything else comes to your memory that would be useful to me, then don’t hesitate to come and find me. All right?”

“All right.” She forced a smile. “Gods, you certainly know how to cheer a girl up, don’t you? And,” she added, “you watch yourself too. The Ostorius family aren’t keen on outsiders enquiring about their private affairs.”

“We’ll look out for each other, then, shall we?”

“It’s a deal.” We shook hands, and I left her, feeling that I’d made a friend.

Chapter XXII

“So you like Niobe?” Quintus asked. “Yet before you met her, you had her singled out as the killer.”

“I know. I was surprised myself, but I do like her, and I think I also trust her. But as you said yourself, she’s not an easy person to get to know. She’s intelligent, and she’s aware her position here is vulnerable, which makes her potentially dangerous. Like an unbroken horse, calm and in control most of the time, but if something threatens her, she’ll do what she must to protect herself.”

“I’ve rarely seen anyone who looked less like a horse, but I see what you mean.”

We were crowded into Quintus’ cramped little office—me, Quintus, and Titch, who’d just arrived with Lucius and his men. My brother had led his patrol straight out onto the farm to look for Ferox, while I told Quintus and Titch about my talk with Niobe.

“And she really couldn’t be the killer?” Titch asked. “Being the one who found the body, it makes her look the most likely.”

“I didn’t say she couldn’t be a murderer under any circumstances. I say she didn’t murder Magnus. If she decided to kill her master she’d make a much better job of it.”

Quintus said, “Interesting that she mentioned a secret way in and out after dark. I’d assumed there’d be an escape route, because you can’t keep a bunch of active young men cooped up in a small place like this unless you’re really in the army, and sometimes not even then. Titch, did you pick up anything about this Achilles gate? You talked to some of their lads after supper last night, didn’t you?”

He grinned. “I did. We had a nice friendly game of dice in the stables.”

“Did you win?” I asked.

“’Course not. I want them to play again tonight. It was only a few coppers, and I reckon it can come out of our expenses, can’t it?”

“That depends on whether you learnt anything useful.”

“I heard one or two mentions of the Achilles gate, quite casual like in conversation. But I didn’t get why they call it that.”

I laughed. “Really, Titch, didn’t they teach you any military history while you were in the army?”

“Not much. They wanted us to learn about battles we’d be fighting now, not stuff from the olden days.”

“But you
have
heard of the Trojan War?”

He performed a comic show of thinking deeply. “I believe I have. A long siege job, which would have been shorter if Achilles hadn’t spent a lot of it sulking instead of fighting.”

“And what was special about Achilles?”

“He couldn’t be killed except by a wound in his heel…Now I see. Achilles’ heel. So yon little gate is the weak point of the Fort. I’ll find out more about it, now I know.”

Quintus nodded. “Anything else?”

“They all really hate the chief guard. They’re loyal to the Ostorii as a family, because most of them owe their jobs to Magnus or Vividus. But there’s no loyalty to Rinacus, except out of fear, because he uses his fists a lot. When we’d all had a few beakers of beer I was sympathising with them about serving under bad-tempered officers, and one lad says, ‘Rinacus saved one of the masters from being convicted of murder when they were serving together. He wouldn’t be captain here now if the master didn’t owe him.’ And another one says, ‘But he doesn’t want to stay. He keeps saying he’s going to leave, only he’s signed a contract so he can’t go right away. I say the sooner he goes the better.’ And the first one says, ‘He may be kicked out regardless, if anyone finds out he’s sniffing around after Niobe.’ I asks, ‘Does she fancy him then?’ But he says to me, ‘Keep your nose out, boy, the Ostorii don’t like outsiders asking questions.’”

“Niobe told me the same. She mentioned Rinacus too, so I suspect she may not be turning him down out of hand.”

“So the chief guard has some sort of hold over one or more of the family,” Quintus mused, “and he’s allowed to break a few rules. He’s unhappy here, and he could be making somebody jealous over the girl. But I can’t see him letting outsiders in here, can you?”

Titch shook his head. “That’d be going too far. He may let the lads go off for a few hours’ drinking or whoring, but nobody’s letting strangers inside the defences, they’re too scared. They’re all very jumpy about the Gauls and Bodvocus’ men, they feel like they’re kind of under siege here. They’d not tell tales on one another, but they’d report a stranger.”

“I agree. Good information, Titch. Off you go now, but remember please, I need you back here by dark. I want you to pick up more gossip tonight. I realise it isn’t as interesting as your little chats with Balca. It’s a hard life, isn’t it?”

Titch grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. And I’ll tell you something else interesting, shall I?”

“If you feel you must.”

“You know I’ve been teaching her to use a bow? Well I had a job to demonstrate it at first, with this bad hand and all. But I do believe me hand is getting better. I can move the fingers just a bit.”

“That’s very good news, Titch,” I said.

“I suppose it is,” Quintus conceded. “But if you have the use of both hands again, you’ll be wanting to go back to the cavalry. I’ve almost got used to having you around.”

“I’ve almost got used to it too,” the lad grinned. “Well, it’s early days to be making decisions. I’ll see you both later. Or…” he turned to me. “Are you riding back to Mistress Albia’s? If so I’ll ride along with you, make sure you get safe there.”

“Thanks, but I’m staying here for a while longer. I’ll go back to Albia’s tonight, so we can all leave for Bodvocus’ feast together tomorrow. You’re going, presumably?”

Quintus said, “He’s going, because Balca is, and I don’t think there’s a threat in my power to make that would keep him away.”

He grinned. “She’s performing the Mother-gift ceremony instead of Elli. I’m taking her over to Bodvocus’ place later. So I’d best make the most of the afternoon.”

People who know that I help Quintus sometimes—that’s only my family and close friends—tend to assume that investigating is an exciting business, full of dramatic events, lightning-flashes of intuition, brilliant deductions leading to logical solutions. Those things happen sometimes, but mostly the work is tedious in the extreme. We had a taste of tedium now, for what seemed like a whole day, but was probably only a couple of hours.

We interviewed the men of the guard, from Rinacus down, and the trusted servants who were in charge of night-time security in the slave quarters. There were over forty of them, and we didn’t get one single useful piece of information. Quintus asked the questions, while I went through the motions of making notes. They all denied knowing anything about a secret way out of the Fort; they all assured us they’d seen nothing unusual in the place last night or early this morning. They all hated Bodvocus and his people, who, they were sure, had murdered their master. They all loved working for the Ostorii, and thought Rinacus was a first-class commander. They were all tense and wooden-faced, giving terse answers in more or less the same words.

The only exception was Rinacus. He was a big, solid man, who seemed even larger than life in our small room, and he was relaxed and confident. He offered no useful information either, but he gave the impression he was anxious to help. He spent some time boasting about the high level of protection he and his men provided from the natives, and the impossibility of anyone from outside the Fort ever getting into it. He had a great respect for his masters, and was devastated by Magnus’ death. He loved his job, and if Vividus would keep him on as commander, he would never want to leave.

“The only thing we can safely conclude from all that,” Quintus grumbled after the last one left us, “is that Rinacus feels sure of himself, and has a strong enough grip on the others to make them say exactly what he wants them to.”

“I always thought drill was something soldiers practised on the parade-ground,” I said. “He’s got their minds drilled as well.”

We were sitting there staring gloomily at one another, when there was a brisk knock at the door, and we were both delighted when Lucius came striding in.

“Lucius, you’re a welcome sight!” I gave him a hug. “Have you come to tell us you’ve caught Ferox?”

“Yes, we’ve caught him—well found him, really. He didn’t seem to be hiding or trying to escape. He was inland on the very edge of the Ostorius property, where it borders Albia’s. I tried in that direction because everyone else was searching around the Headland. When he saw us he came riding up, just as he did the other day when we went to the shipwreck, demanding to know what we were doing there. When I told him we were arresting him and taking him home, and my lads drew their swords, he wasn’t best pleased, but he came along with us quietly enough.”

“Excellent,” Quintus said. “Good work. How does he seem now? And where has he been all this time?”

Lucius grinned. “He’s his usual charming self. He says he’s been riding round the farm since first light. He’s obsessed with the idea that the Gauls are going to raid here soon, he kept on about it all the way back. And he started telling off the chief guard as soon as he got in through the gate, saying there should have been more men out on patrol during the night. The guard said he was out all night himself, and saw nothing at all to indicate trouble. I broke the argument up, but it was interesting to hear that Rinacus wasn’t in the Fort last night.”

“Yes, I agree. Where’s Ferox now?”

“He’s in his office, which is downstairs in one of the out-buildings near the main gate. I left a guard on his door so he’ll have to stay put. It seemed better to put him there than keep him standing in the open, and I assume you don’t want him to talk to the others till you’ve questioned him. He’s extremely annoyed and keeps demanding to see Magnus or Vividus.”

“
Magnus?
” I said. “You mean he doesn’t know Magnus is dead?”

“He doesn’t seem to, though he could just be play-acting. Are you going to see him now, Quintus?”

“I most certainly am. You two come as well.”

So we trooped out of the house and across the big open space in front of it. Ferox’s office was a large room with big windows which were open to give a good view of the entrance gate and also the main door to the house. Its interior looked like any estate manager’s lair, untidy and littered with note-tablets, scrolls, styluses, and ink-pots, not to mention used wine-beakers, some with wine still in them.

Ferox leapt from his chair as we entered, and confronted Quintus. “Are you responsible for my being treated like this, Antonius?”

“I’m afraid I am.”

“Well it’s disgraceful. I demand you release me at once and let me talk to my uncle or my brother. You’ve no business to hold me a prisoner here as if I’m some sort of criminal.”

“I’m sorry, Ferox. I’m afraid it’s necessary. I need to ask you some questions. What time did you leave the Fort this morning?”

“Before dawn. What about it?”

“Just answer my questions please, if you would. You were up early, it seems. Are you usually such an early riser?”

He looked uneasy. “Sometimes. Why?”

“It helps us to get a picture of life here at the Fort, if we know what a normal routine day is like. Is there a special reason why you sometimes get up early, or is it just as the mood takes you?”

“If you must know, I’m a poor sleeper, and I sometimes suffer from bad dreams. Really unpleasant ones, I mean, and if I’ve woken up after one of them, I’m not likely to go back to sleep that night. So however early it is, I get myself up and make use of the time to do some work.”

“Work? In the middle of the night?” I asked.

He glanced round his cluttered office. “There’s always plenty of paperwork to be done, till it gets light enough to ride out onto the farm. I like to patrol our land as often as I can myself. That way I can keep an eye open for trouble, and also supervise what my workers are up to.”

Quintus asked, “Did you see your uncle this morning before you left?”

“I didn’t. I told you, I left before dawn, which is when he gets up and takes his bath. Believe me, when I do see him and tell him how I’ve been treated, he’ll throw you all off our property. And I intend to see him now. Out of my way.” He took a couple of paces across the room.

Lucius went to stand with his back against the door, while Quintus took a step forward and faced Ferox squarely. He said softly, “I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you. Your uncle is dead.”

“
Dead?
”

I was watching him closely, and I could swear his surprise and horror were completely genuine. If he was acting, he was doing it supremely well.

Quintus went on, and he too was observing Ferox carefully. “He died this morning at dawn. To be precise, he was
murdered
this morning at dawn.”

Ferox said nothing for a few heartbeats, then he exclaimed, “Magnus dead? I can’t believe it!”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” Quintus said.

“But…how will we manage without him? He’s been like a father to me, to all of us boys after our mother died. Gods, it’s my fault. All my fault!”

“Your fault? You’re admitting you killed him?” Quintus asked.

“Of course I didn’t. But I knew the Gauls would be attacking us about now, I just knew it! And I thought we were well prepared, so my best way of protecting us all was to spend as much time as possible on patrol, out on the estate. I should have stayed at the Fort, but I never thought they’d try to murder anyone inside the walls here.” He looked stricken, deathly pale and staring straight ahead at nothing.

“You think the sea-raiders killed him?” Quintus asked.

“Who else? Under orders from Bodvocus, no doubt. They’ve been harassing all the settlers in this district. We’re the only ones they haven’t dared touch so far, because we’ve plenty of men and a good solid rampart around us. But I knew it was only a matter of time, we all did. Personally I thought they’d try something on Beltane, that was why Bodvocus was so keen to lure us away from here to attend his feast.”

“What if I told you,” Quintus said, “that your uncle couldn’t have been killed by an outsider, whether one of the Gauls or one of the Parisi?”

“Couldn’t? Why not?”

“Because he was killed in a place where no outsider could have penetrated, in the caldarium of your bath suite. The murderer must have been someone from this household, almost certainly someone close to Magnus, whom he knew and trusted. There was no sign of a struggle in the hot room. Whoever was there with him was able to come up close to him and stab him, without Magnus suspecting his intention.”