Semper Fidelis (13 page)

^{USO TOOK ANOTHER}
swig of the wine with rose petals steeped in it before he set off, but by the time the torchlit entrance to the mansio came into view, his headache was showing no sign of clearing. Still, Austalis seemed to be stable, and with luck Tilla had heeded his message and gone to bed. The last thing he wanted tonight was an argument. That could wait until morning, when he would have to admit that his attempt to call Geminus’s bluff had achieved exactly the opposite effect to the one he had intended.

If only he had kept his mouth shut.
That pretty wife has you dancing on a string
. Perhaps Accius had a point. Other officers’ wives stayed back at base, tending their homes and children and meeting up at the bathhouse to gossip. Other officers’ wives did not follow them around the countryside raising awkward questions to which they would never understand the only answers their husbands had to give. In fact, now that he thought about it, Tilla’s presence and her insistence on voicing the demands of the women outside the camps made his job infinitely more difficult. It was time they bought a slave. Next time he was away, the slave could look after him and the wife could stay at home.
He strode on, not looking at the light but at the surface of the street. He did not want to round off a difficult evening by stepping in a pile of dung.
There had been an accumulation of small exasperations back at the hospital: first the cook’s failure yet again to remember his instructions for Austalis’s diet; and then someone had packed the pharmacy scales ready to travel, and when they were needed, nobody could remember which box they were in. The search was complicated by a period of semidarkness when it was discovered that nobody had filled any of the lamps, owing to the nonarrival of the oil that Stores insisted they had sent, but the hospital staff were adamant they had not received. An emergency request to Stores to allocate some more had resulted in the messenger being told to piss off, which was more or less what Ruso had been told himself—only more politely— when he went across to insist on some action. He had been on the verge of losing his temper when the first amphora was traced to the headquarters building, lying in a side room with the words hospital urgent clearly chalked on the side.
A less rational man would begin to think the gods didn’t like him. A rational man would conclude that someone at the hospital—and he certainly didn’t trust that clerk—was deliberately making his life difficult.
He was so preoccupied that the rapid thud of hooves and the yell of “Look out!” took him completely by surprise. He felt a rush of air as the horse swerved to avoid him, no doubt as alarmed as he was by the sudden appearance of a pedestrian in the middle of the road in the dark. The rider yelled something at him and hurtled on toward the east gate. Ruso stepped aside in case there were more horses, but the cavalryman seemed to be a lone late arrival.
He took a last deep breath of cool night air before making his way up the mansio steps. If Tilla was awake, he would begin with the good news. “I’ve cleared up this Metellus business with Accius,” he would say. “We can stop worrying. He’s not bothered.”
Seconds later, he found that rehearsing his lines had been a waste of time. He had started the scene in entirely the wrong place. Not only had Tilla received no message to say he would be late, but the first words after an accusatory “I was worried!” were “What have you been saying about me to the tribune?”
The headache gained him no sympathy at all. He helped himself to a cup of water—clearly none was going to be offered—before sitting on the edge of one of the beds and trying to explain. “I thought he would listen,” he said. “I even thought he might look into it. I never thought it would come to this.”
“But I told you it was a secret! How can I give him a name when I swore on the bones of my ancestors that I would not?”
He heard himself offer the lame “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “And it is not me who mixes up your medicines.”
“Forget the bloody medicines!” Had she sat here all evening making a list of things to argue about?
“But the first thing you will be thinking is
It is Tilla again
.”
“I think it was someone at the hospital.”
“Yes. But first you will be thinking it is me.”
She was getting her tenses mixed up, something she rarely did now unless she was very agitated.
“I am a nuisance to you.”
“Oh, gods above.” He lay back on the bed and pressed his hands to his temples. “Not tonight, Tilla.”
“No,” she agreed. “Not tonight. But this is worse than the pay wagon. This time I swore an oath to say nothing.”
He was not fool enough to think he could change her mind. “You realize if we don’t come up with something for him, there will be consequences for both of us?”
“That is his choice, not ours.”
“But we’re the ones who will suffer for it.”
“Something in this place stinks,” she said, lifting her chin as if the smell were under her nose at that moment. “I should have tell him he must deal with what is wrong, instead of trying to silence a person who tells the truth.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Perhaps we should say that to him.”
“Perhaps you should try presenting your witness so he can hear the accusations for himself.”
She shook her head. “The tribune would not believe a word this person said.”
“Marvelous.” He raised himself up on his elbows and took another swig of water. “The only way out of this is to convince Accius that the rumors about Geminus are true. And the only way to do that is to present a witness we can’t produce.” He glanced at her. “There must be other witnesses. It’s not just this one person, is it?”
“I could ask, but I do not know anyone who will talk.”
“Better and better.”
Tilla was silent for a moment. Finally she said, “We could go back to Gaul.”
That pretty wife has you dancing on a string.
He was only here in Britannia because of Tilla. “Last time we went, I was on sick leave at the end of a contract,” he pointed out. “This time it would be desertion.” He pulled off his boots. “What I want,” he said, “the only thing I’ve ever wanted, is a job where all I have to deal with is what’s in front of me.” He slung his belt over the bedpost. “Is that too much to ask?”
She said, “What is in front of you?
He hauled the covers over himself and closed his eyes. “A good night’s sleep, I hope.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Amputation of the right arm at the shoulder.”
“In front of me is a girl many weeks’ walk from home, abandoned with an injured child. And a centurion with something to hide.”
He sighed. “Stay out of it, Tilla. There are any number of veterans who will swear to you that the training isn’t as tough now as it was in their day. Geminus is a bully, but no doubt he sees himself as trying to restore standards.” He opened his eyes. “Did you do any reading this eve ning?”
“He should have sent the ferry.”
For a moment he thought this was her last word on the subject. Then he heard “Do you think he was angry because two men were fond of each other?”
“They shouldn’t have made it obvious,” he said. “Somebody should have warned them: Never do anything to make yourself a target in basic training.”
“But when the emperor himself runs after boys . . .” She paused. Some sort of commotion was going on outside. There were doors banging. Raised voices. Footsteps and the jingle of military belts approached the window. Ruso lifted his head to listen, but the soldiers carried on past.
“The emperor can do what he likes,” he said, relieved that whatever the fuss was, it did not require a medic. “He’s not answerable to Geminus.”
“Geminus likes to frighten people.”
“Recruits have to be toughened up. And taught to obey orders. They don’t drill them for fun. Discipline saves men’s lives, Tilla. If I didn’t believe that, I’d have no business being in the Legion.”
One of the soldiers was coming back. She had just said, “It is not saving very many lives here, is it?” when someone thumped on the door and shouted, “Message for the medical officer!”
Ruso sighed, rolled off the bed, and padded barefoot to the door. His eyes widened as the captain of Accius’s guard whispered the message in his ear. He said, “Is this some sort of joke?”
“I hope not, sir.”
Reflecting that this was not going to help his headache, he buckled his belt and retrieved his boots from under the bed. “Don’t wait up,” he told Tilla. If the guard had not been standing three feet away, he would have told her the news. Instead, all he could say was “Something’s happening. You’ l l find out in the morning.”

^{ILLA TOOK A}
moment to recognize the hideous screeches that had woken her as the sounds of heavy furniture being dragged across the floor of the room next door. Outside she heard urgent voices, the slap of mats being beaten, and the frantic swish of scrubbing brushes. Distant and discordant clanging told her that more than one blacksmith was up and working. She rolled over and opened her eyes. The rumpled bed beside hers was empty. Why was everyone making so much noise? How late had she slept?

That was when she remembered the second knock on the door, just after the Medicus had hurried away without telling her where he was going. That time it was Minna, bundled up in a shawl, pushing her way in without invitation and hissing in a stage whisper, “Have you heard? The emperor is coming!”

“I know,” Tilla had said, bemused and not a little annoyed at the late invasion. “Everybody knows.”
“No, he has landed somewhere called Petuaria. His ships were damaged in the storm and he’s coming here tomorrow!”
Tilla’s first thought had been that she did not much care where the emperor went. Her second was that this would give the snooty tribune something bigger to worry about than tracking down local people who said things he did not want to hear.
Minna had probably thought the smile meant she was excited about the visit.
Tilla splashed last night’s cold water from the bowl over her face, imagining the panic in the fort after the news arrived. Few of them would know any more about Hadrian and Sabina than she did herself, but they would know how vital it was to please them.
Tilla had always felt sorry for Vibia Sabina, who appeared from her statues and coins to be both beautiful and vacant. Sabina too was childless, and after more than twenty years of marriage. There were people who wondered why the emperor had not divorced her and found someone fertile. Tilla was glad he had not.
Hadrian himself always appeared on his coins and statues with a heavy jaw and a curly beard, an odd little crease in each earlobe, and beady eyes that were too close together. He was supposed to be a clever man and a fierce improver of poor standards. It pleased her to imagine those eyes taking in the shameful state of the officers’ empty houses at Eboracum.
The breakfast tray and the fresh water finally arrived with two girls who were so busy whispering and giggling that they forgot to bow altogether. From somewhere beyond the rose beds she could hear Minna’s voice raised in complaint. Moments later the manager, flustered and apologetic, arrived to explain that he had been given orders to prepare for ten very senior officials and their staff, and would she and the Medicus mind moving to another room? Behind him, she could see more staff scurrying about with piles of bedding. “It’s quite comfortable,” he assured her. “Compact. Very convenient to the dining room.”
She felt too sorry for him to ask if the tribune would be moving too.

The room was, as she had expected, only big enough for one bed and a chest, and potentially very noisy, but it was clean. She was checking that the staff had brought all the luggage when a shadow fell across the courtyard window and a voice she had not expected said in British, “There you are! I couldn’t find you!”

“It’s all right, nobody is looking. I got in through the side door. I have decided what to do. Let me in so I can tell you.”
They sat side by side on the bed, since there was nowhere else, while Virana revealed that she had not one plan but two. The first was for Tilla’s husband to give her the password so she could get into the fort and make a last-minute appeal to whichever of her former lovers she could find, since they might not be allowed out again before they marched away. When

Tilla explained that this was impossible, she said, “I thought you would say that. But it doesn’t matter, because the emperor is coming!”
“I know.”
“So I got this.” She delved into her cleavage and pulled out a rolled and squashed scrap of parchment. “Look!”
Tilla unrolled it and made out the words
Your Majesty
. She stopped. “What is this?”
Virana beamed. “The scribe down the road wrote it for me. He was very nice. I’m going to—”
“He should not have taken your money,” Tilla told her.
“Oh, he didn’t want money!”
“He knows as well as I do that you are not a citizen of Rome,” said Tilla, guessing what he had taken instead. “The emperor is the most powerful man in the world. If the officers here will not listen to you, why would he?”
Virana looked crestfallen. “But he’s the emperor! He goes around the world giving out justice!”
“Not to you and me.”
“But somebody has to take me to Deva. I can’t stay here!” Virana threw the parchment aside and clasped her hands together. “Let me come with you. Please. I could help you. You need a servant.”
It was true, and it irritated Tilla that even this silly girl could see it. “Go home,” she said. “You should not be wandering unescorted around here.”
Virana pouted. “
You
wander unescorted!”
“That is different.”
“The Sixth Legion will be here soon, did you know? And the new governor will come with the emperor and there will be the cavalry escort and the Praetorian Guard with the scorpions on their shields . . . Is it true they are all six feet tall and very rich?”
“The Praetorian Guard would swallow you whole and not even notice,” said Tilla, who had never met them except by reputation. “Go home.”
Virana’s lower lip began to tremble. “Please don’t send me away! Nobody wants me!”
Tilla sighed. “Very well. You can stay with me just for this morning.”
Virana clutched at her arm. “Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you! Where shall we go? Can we go inside the fort?”
Tilla detached her grip. “No. You can wait while I visit Corinna, then you can take me to talk to your family.”
“My family?” The girl grabbed at her again, then remembered and let go. “My family will not listen to anyone. Not even you. Anyway, I can’t miss the emperor! And Vibia Sabina. Did you know the empress was younger than me when she got married?”
“The emperor will not be here until this evening. Perhaps your family will bring you back to watch.”
“No they won’t. They’re horrible. Anyway, I can’t walk that far. I feel sick.”
“Some exercise will do you good.”
“My brothers are nasty and violent. And they don’t like strangers.”
“I am Brigante, and the wife of a Roman officer,” said Tilla, squaring her shoulders. “Your family will not frighten me, and unless they are very stupid they will not hurt me, either.” At least, she hoped not. Anyway, she could not spend all day sitting in this room with nothing to do or wandering about the streets. None of Virana’s family was in the army, so she could truthfully say she was obeying the tribune’s orders not to get involved in the Legion’s affairs. She got to her feet. “Are you coming, or will I have to find the way by myself?”
Virana was chewing her lower lip. “They will tell you lies about me.”
“Then it will be best if you are there to tell the truth,” said Tilla, bending to tighten the laces on her boots and reaching for her bag.