Danger in the Wind (16 page)

Nonius smiled at us. “Good afternoon, ladies, and welcome to Isurium. Your room’s all ready. We only have one room available for you both, but I’m sure you’ll be quite comfortable. If you like to come with me…”

He led us through the main hall and along a corridor, and opened a door at the far end which led into a small green-painted room with an unglazed window. Thank the gods it was warm today, we shouldn’t need the shutters. The walls could have done with a lick of paint, but the two narrow beds looked clean, and there was just room for a pair of stools and a small table.

“This will be fine,” I told him. “Thank you for fitting us in here when you’re so busy.”

“We’re always glad to help Philippus and his family. But you’re right, we are pretty full just now. Lord Eurytus’ visit, you see.”

“Is Eurytus staying here?”

“Oh, no, not himself in person. Some of his men are with us, but our Chief Brennus has the honour of entertaining his lordship.”

“Ah. I run a mansio too, down near Eburacum. So I think I know just how you feel about that.” As a fellow innkeeper, I could imagine his relief at not having to have the “honour” of accommodating a demanding, overbearing Imperial official. I was right. He gave me a broad wink.

Back in the barroom we found Philippus ensconced at a table with a jug of wine and a tray of beakers. He was chatting to a good-looking man in his mid-thirties, with brown wavy hair and a pleasant smile. Philippus introduced him as Nikias, the fort’s medical officer.

A Greek name, if ever I heard one. “I’m pleased to meet you, Nikias. Forgive my asking, but you aren’t related to a doctor friend of mine, Timaeus from Crete? He has a cousin Nikias in the army somewhere. I just wondered…?”

“No, I’m from Cos myself, and we’ve nobody in the family called Timaeus.”

“That’s a pity. Timaeus is always complaining that he misses the company of other Greeks. I’d like to have told him I’d found one of his long-lost relations. People like me do our best to cheer him up,” I added in Greek, “but he says we’re no real substitute. I suppose it must be the same here at the fort. I bet there isn’t another Greek for miles around.”

“My assistant Pythis is Greek,” Nikias answered, also in Greek. “He’s my nephew. I think we two are the only true Greeks here. Of course there are some would-be Greeks like Philippus here and his father, and they’re better than nothing. The way they carry on, they’re more Greek than we are sometimes, aren’t you, Philo?”

Philippus laughed, and replied in Greek. “Some day I’ll get a posting to Greece. The cradle of all that’s finest in our civilisation, that’s how I feel about it. Oh well, never mind. For now I’ll make do with Cataractonium.”

Everyone laughed, but then Nikias became serious again. “Look, Philo, I’m worried about this illness of your mother’s. Do you think I should call in and see her tonight? I hear she’s had nobody professional attending her, only some wise-woman from the village.”

Philippus nodded. “She insisted it was a woman’s problem, so she wanted another woman to look after her. I’d like her to have a proper professional doctor, of course, but you know how stubborn she can be.”

“Yes, that I do know. But you can persuade her to let me examine her. I know you can. Will you try? Please?”

There was the tiniest hesitation before Philippus answered. “All right, I’ll try. Come over later and I’ll do what I can. But I’m afraid she may simply refuse to see you.”

The doctor got to his feet. “I’ll drop by before dark. Now I must go. By the way, did you patch up your slave all right? Do you need any more bandages for him?”

“No, thanks. You gave me enough to poultice an elephant the other day. They worked, anyhow. The boy’s fine now.”

“Then I’m off. Sorry I can’t stay longer to chat, ladies. We don’t get enough pretty women visiting Isurium. I hope I’ll see you again. You’re here for a few days, are you?”

“I hope so. We’ve been invited to Jovina’s party. She’s my cousin, and I’m looking forward to a chance of catching up on family news.”

“Good, very good. So we must make sure Jovina has all her health and strength back by then.”

“Niki’s an excellent doctor,” Philippus said as he poured our wine. “Between you and me, he and Mother used to be something more than good friends, if you know what I mean. It’s all over now, but that’s probably why she’s reluctant to see him.”

A Greek bearing gifts…
But I hadn’t time for pondering because he changed the subject. “Is your room comfortable?”

We assured him it was, and we chatted about inconsequential things for a while: about Isurium, which he didn’t think much of, and Eburacum, which he quite liked. Then he mentioned a plan to visit Londinium, and he and Vitellia began to compare notes about the place. It was so long since I’d visited the capital that I didn’t have much to contribute, and I told myself that was why Philippus was devoting most of his attention to Vitellia. But I knew better, really. When you travel with an exceptionally pretty young girl, she’s going to have the lion’s share of the attention. You may as well just get used to it.

Vitellia was attracting admiring glances from several of the customers, and I noticed that Philippus himself was popular, judging by the number of people who smiled or waved or stopped to have a word. Almost all soldiers, of course. One in particular I remember, a short, wiry young man with cavalry insignia who grinned as he crossed the room to us and allowed himself to be presented to Vitellia, and even to me. But it was Philippus he’d come to talk to.

“You’ve been away, Philo, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Just for a day or two, yes.”

“Cataractonium, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“How was it?”

“Oh, boring as always. The quicker I can get myself transferred back here, the better.”

The young cavalryman raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t get caught up in the fire then?”

Philippus shrugged. “Fire? No. It was something and nothing.”

“Really? One of the lads today said it made quite a mess of the tannery.”

Philippus’ look of alarm was almost comic. “I…I…You mean it was actually in the tannery itself? Gods, how bad was it?”

The cavalryman laughed. “Got you! Don’t panic, there was no fire. I was just testing out a theory of mine, that you told us a load of rubbish about being ordered to go up there. You were nowhere near the place, were you? You were away from base without permission these last few days. Let me guess…Eburacum?”

“You bastard, Fabianus. All right, if you must know, yes, I’ve been in Eburacum.”

“And was it worth the trip?”

Philippus grinned. “Oh yes. She was worth the trip.”

“Well, don’t try sneaking off for the next few days. There’s going to be trouble, the commander says. Even the tannery contingent will be on alert.” With another guffaw, the cavalryman swaggered off.

“Well, well,” I said softly. “You’re a dark horse, Philippus, aren’t you? Absent without leave?”

“That’s not the half of it.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I had a good reason to be there. A secret mission, something the commander wanted done but didn’t want talked about. Couldn’t say anything in front of old Fabianus. You’ll be discreet, won’t you?”

“Of course.” I nodded solemnly, though this sounded like nonsense to me, a bit of boasting to cover an embarrassing revelation. It could be partly true; there were informers all over the place who helped investigators like Lucius and Quintus sometimes. But no, Quintus would have known if Philippus was even an occasional informer. This was a fiction designed to impress me and especially Vitellia.

And indeed it did impress her. She gazed at him with shining eyes and an expression of wonder, and asked, also in a whisper, “Are you an investigator then? Like my fiancé? Lucius Aurelius Marcellus,” she added proudly.

“Now and then.” He put a finger to his lip, “Best not to talk about these things.”

“Quite right.” I gave another solemn nod. Whoever or whatever he was, I didn’t want him quizzing her about Lucius. “Lucius never discusses his assignments with us. Does he, Vitellia?”

Unfortunately she didn’t take the hint. “No, he doesn’t. Even his latest one, about the mysterious man at the mansio.”

Curse the girl, if I didn’t change the subject fast, she’d be giving Philippus far too much detail about this “mysterious man.” I glanced over at the bar seeking a diversion, and yes, thank the gods, there was a familiar face among the customers. Congrio, the trader in magic mats and cloaks, was buying drinks and attracting quite an audience, doubtless hoping to do some business later. But like any good salesman he had eyes everywhere, and when I waved at him he smiled back.

“The man at the mansio?” Philippus was looking interested. “Sounds fascinating. Do tell.”

“I don’t know anything really. But while I was staying there…”

“Look, Vitellia, there’s that trader with the fancy cloaks and mats.” I beckoned him. “Congrio, come and have a drink with us.”

He was probably surprised by my invitation, but came over willingly enough. “It’s a pleasure to see you here, ladies. Will you introduce me to your military friend?”

I did so, and as I’d hoped, Congrio launched straight into his sales patter. My diversion had succeeded, the topic of conversation was safe. But I’d have to remind Vitellia not to get drawn into telling people about Lucius and his work.

I sat listening with only half an ear as Congrio enthused about his wares. Most of my mind was on Quintus and Titch, wishing they’d arrive soon. I watched the main door, which was standing open on this warm evening. A steady stream of people came through it: soldiers, a few farmers, a couple of traders, a flute-player who settled in a dark corner and began to play haunting tunes, some of which I knew.

An interesting mixture of customers. But none of them was Quintus.

Chapter XII

Like the professional he was, Congrio remembered that Vitellia was already a customer, recalled what she’d bought, and congratulated her on her choice. But he gave most of his attention to Philippus.

“Now, sir, I’d welcome some advice from an officer. I’m hoping to interest the military authorities here in my wares, and their families too, of course. Are you based here at Isurium, sir?”

“No, at Cataractonium. It’s only a few miles up the road, thank the gods. I’m just visiting Isurium for a few days.”

“Then it’s my good fortune to have met you here. If you’d like me to give you a private demonstration of the wonderful remarkable properties…” Once again I stopped concentrating as he went smoothly into his well-rehearsed routine. I looked at the sea of faces all around me and wondered if the crowd included someone who had warned me against coming here. Perhaps the soldier Portius was among the drinkers. I doubted if I’d recognise him without his layers of bandages. I tried not to speculate on what he’d do if he saw me now and realised that I’d disregarded the warnings intended to stop me coming to Isurium.

A bar-girl came over to take our order for the evening meal. I asked whether the men would care to join us. Congrio excused himself and returned to his audience at the bar, and Philippus explained that he must go back to his mother’s house before long, because a meal would be waiting for him.

“I’m staying at Mother’s till after the party. Luckily I don’t have to go back to work for a day or two.”

“I hadn’t realised you’re based at Cataractonium. I’d assumed you were on the strength here.”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately not at present. Special duties at the tannery.”

I know enough about army life to realise that special duties at any tannery mean specially bad rather than specially good. I wondered what he’d done, but put the thought aside, because there was an important question I wanted to ask him before he left for the evening.

“At least stay and keep us company till the food comes. And have another beaker of wine.” I poured him a refill, and went on before he could return his attention to Vitellia. “We had a visitor from this area staying at our mansio recently, a soldier called Terentius. I’m not sure exactly where he was based though. You know him, presumably?”

He nodded. “And he’s on his way home? I’m glad to hear that. He’s a good friend of mine. There’ll be quite a party when he gets back. He’s been in Londinium, seconded to the governor’s guard for three months.”

So he hadn’t heard about Terentius’ death. That meant Portius hadn’t come back to base, which wasn’t surprising if we were right about his part in Terentius’ murder. And maybe, as I’d half suspected, he was lying and wasn’t based here. I could check with Philippus, but first I must tell him the bad news.

I did it as gently as I could, making it sound as if Terentius had been killed by his slave in the course of a robbery. It was clearly a shock to him.

“Gods, that’s terrible. Murdered by his boy? I can’t believe it!” He sat silent a while, staring into his beaker. “I suppose there’ll be an investigation? Wait—isn’t your brother an investigator? I remember Mother saying something about it.”

“He is, and he’s reported the matter to Eburacum, but I doubt if they’ll need to take things any further. It seemed clear that Terentius had been stabbed by his own servant. The boy ran away, which looks pretty conclusive. Very sad, of course, but…well, it happens.”