Shadows in the Night (10 page)

I told him what Hawk had pieced together about the fight, and about his dead horse and his companion galloping off.

“Good! That must mean Burrus got clear. I expect he’s out somewhere looking for me.”

“You said he was a German, with a snake tattoo?”

“Yes, he is…but you just said ‘he
was.
’ What’s happened?” He looked at me keenly. Oh, me and my big mouth!

I told him as gently as I could about the body found in the forum. It upset him more than I’d expected.

“Poor Burrus! He was almost at the end of his army time. This was his last assignment. A good man, brave and sensible. When he got out, he was going back to the Rhine, to his parents. He used to tell me about their farm, and the girl who was waiting for him.” His jaw set. “D’you know, I mind about them killing Burrus more than I mind about them attacking me. After all, I chose this lousy job. Burrus just went where he was told. Well, I’ll have those bastards, Aurelia. I’ll have the lot of them!”

“Good.” The only way I could think of to comfort him was to change the subject, so I asked if he’d heard of the Shadow-men, and their leader, the Shadow of Death.

He nodded. “We’ve heard of them, and we’re taking them seriously. The Shadow of Death is a good rebel commander. Far
too
good, from our point of view. He’s also something of a mystery man. They say he wears a mask.”

“A mask? You mentioned something yesterday about one of the attackers wearing a mask.”

“Did I? Why yes, I remember now….A gruesome-looking thing, like a skull with empty eyes. He just stood there, but I got the impression somehow he was the leader, and the others were carrying out his orders, even though he didn’t say anything. So that was the Shadow of Death? Well, his shadow wasn’t long enough to swallow
me!
”

By this time he’d drunk his mug of wine and eaten two large pieces of bread and honey and a handful of plums. He sighed contentedly, and lay back on the pillows.

“I really do need a bath,” he said almost dreamily. “When will the water be hot?”

“In an hour or so. I’ve told Taurus to make sure the stoker gets a move on, but it’ll take a while. We don’t keep the furnace going all night in the summer.”

Taurus himself appeared just then, leaning his huge dark head and massive shoulders in through the door.

“Sorry to intrude, Mistress, but Miss Albia sent me. There are two military investigators in the bar, asking to see this gentleman. From Eburacum. They say they’re looking into all these attacks and murders and they want to talk to him urgently. Miss Albia says, should she send them in here?”

“Yes, Taurus, tell her….”

“No, wait!” Quintus interrupted. “What do they look like?”

“Look like?” Taurus said, surprised. “Well…just ordinary army investigators.”

“But their appearance? Tall—short—describe them!”

He thought about it. “The one in charge is small with black hair and a scar on his hand. The other one is tall and his hair is sort of mousey.”

“That settles it,” Quintus snapped. “I can’t see them.” His whole body had tensed up, for all the world as if he was going to make a run for it. “That is, I can’t let them see
me
.”

I was taken aback. “Why ever not? I’d have thought you’d be glad enough if someone catches the gang who beat you up.”

“Those two have been following me. Because—well, never mind why.” He turned to Taurus. “Tell them I’m asleep. Still unconscious, and too ill to be disturbed.”

Taurus shook his head. “I can’t, sir.”

I wondered if Quintus was losing his grip again. But no, the blue-purple eyes were bright, alert, and hard.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked him.

“Quite sure.” He looked at Taurus. “Do as I say. Tell them I’m unconscious, and get rid of them.”

Again the slave shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve already told them you’re awake.”

“
Merda,
” Quintus swore. “What did you do that for?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret,” Taurus protested, looking miserable. “The Mistress told me that you were better. She was pleased about it. We all were. So when the men came asking, I thought they’d be pleased too.”

“It’s all right, Taurus, you weren’t to know,” I put in. “And we can soon….”

“Did you tell them my name?” Quintus barked.

“I don’t know your name, sir. But they knew it anyway. They said you’re Quintus Antonius Delfinus. I said I didn’t know.”

Quintus swore again, but I waved him quiet. I couldn’t work out what was going on here, but clearly we needed a bit of time, so I could get to the bottom of Quintus’ extraordinary reaction. Taurus could take a message to delay the military agents; he isn’t over-bright, but he’s as solid as a rock if you know how to explain things to him.

“Taurus, look. This gentleman is a friend of Master Lucius, and he needs our help.”

“A friend of the master’s? Ah, that’s different.”

“So we need to keep the investigators away for the time being. You know what the army can be like. They could make all sorts of trouble for him. And for Lucius as well,” I added. Taurus nodded in understanding; this was familiar ground. “So go back and say he’s too ill to see anybody.”

“But I’ve already told them….”

“I know, but it’ll be all right. You can say that the gentleman’s passed out again. Say that he woke up, and tried to get up and was dizzy and flopped back into bed, and now he’s asleep. It’s all true, except for the last bit. He did pass out, when he tried to get out of bed earlier on. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” Quintus said grumpily.

“All right, Taurus. You do that, and then get back to work. I’ll come and talk to them very soon.”

Taurus grinned suddenly. “It’s like when Master Lucius comes home. We have to be careful who we tell.”

“You’ve got it. Now off you go. Don’t let’s keep them waiting.”

Quintus looked doubtfully after him. “Is he reliable?”

“Completely, yes. He’s a simple man, not good at lying unless he sees the reason for it. Sometimes I think the world would be better if we were all as truthful as Taurus.”

“Ouch! That puts me in my place. Deception’s an important part of my job.”

“No, really?” I went and shut the bedroom door, and leaned my back against it. “Now I’m not leaving till you tell me why you don’t want these men to see you.”

“I told you already. They’ve been following me.”

“That could mean you’re a criminal. In which case my duty is to hand you over. You’ve got to understand, this is an official mansio here. I’m not under military orders exactly, but if I refuse to help the military…well, it could be awkward.”

He sighed. “All right. I’m on an unofficial job for the Governor. Unofficial, and very secret.”

“As revelations go, that’s hardly earth-shaking. Are you hunting these Shadow-men?”

“No. Yes. Well, yes and no.”

“Thanks for such a clear answer!” I looked at him for a few heartbeats, but his purple-blue eyes gave nothing away. I felt distinctly uneasy. What possible reason could he have for avoiding military investigators? Didn’t he want them to catch the men who had nearly killed him, and had presumably killed Burrus? I could only think of one good answer. He wasn’t, as he claimed to be, an investigator hunting criminals. He was a criminal, being hunted himself.

My brain told me to be cautious, not to take him at face value. And yet my instinct said he was no criminal, and I should help him. Usually with me, instinct wins out over caution. But still….

“I’ll give you one more chance to explain,” I said. “I’m from an army family, which means I’ve no great love for military investigators, but before I refuse outright to help them, I need to know why. Perhaps I’m like Taurus. I don’t like lying unless I see the need for it.”

“Military bureaucracy,” he said. “It gets in the way in a case like this. I’m in their territory but they haven’t been notified, and that’ll upset them. They’ll want me to do things their way, and I’ll be writing reports and giving them briefings for days. I simply haven’t got time for all that.”

“Which, as our grandmother would have said, is a load of round objects! If your mission is so secret, how come they know you’re here—they even know your name?”

“They don’t. My name’s Quintus Valerius Longinus.”

“More round objects. Balls, in plain Latin! I told you, my sister recognised you as Quintus Antonius Delfinus. So let’s stop playing games, or I’ll fetch those investigators in here now.”

He gave me a hard stare, which I returned. I felt both confused and annoyed. Was any part of his explanation remotely true? He claimed to be working for the Governor, so why couldn’t he use one of his all-powerful government passes? He said he knew Lucius, but he hadn’t recognised the identification signal. And now he was being pursued by military agents….

He smiled, a touch sheepishly. “Well, your sister’s too clever for me. I am Quintus Antonius Delfinus. But I’m travelling as Quintus Valerius Longinus at present, and it’s important they don’t find out who I really am. Promise me you won’t tell them. Please?”

“You can be Quintus Valerius Caesar for all I care. But if these two officers know you already….”

“They don’t know what I look like. So you could tell them I’m Valerius Longinus….I suppose you can’t stop them coming in here to look at me, if they insist. If that happens, I’ll pretend to be asleep. But they may try to kidnap me.”

This was going too far.
“Kidnap you?
For the gods’ sake, why?”

“Because I’m on their trail, of course. And if they do, I’m relying on you to prevent them. Understand?” He looked at me intently, and suddenly he wasn’t a wounded man talking to the woman who was nursing him; he was a battle commander briefing a subordinate.

But we weren’t in a battle, and my irritation boiled over. “Understand? I don’t understand anything, and that’s a fact. So I’m going to see the two agents, and make up my mind when I’ve heard their side of this.” I turned round and grasped the door-handle.

“No, Aurelia, wait. Please!”

I paused and half-turned, but didn’t release the handle.

“I suppose I’ll have to tell you a little more. What I’m investigating isn’t primarily the Shadow-men. The real danger just now isn’t the natives themselves. It’s Roman treachery.”

“
Roman
treachery? You mean the military….”

“And others. Please, no more now. Just help me by keeping those two from doing me any damage. Promise me you won’t let them touch me.”

Roman treachery….
Now that made more sense. Except that this man was a Roman too. Which meant he could just as well be a traitor as an investigator—or he could be both. How could I know?

I couldn’t.

There was a knock at the door. Quintus lay statue-still on his bed as I opened the door slowly, but it was only Baca.

“Please mistress, Miss Albia says could you come. The two gentlemen are getting impatient.”

“I’ll come.” I turned back to Quintus. “I’ll promise this much. I won’t let them take you away from here today. You’re not well enough to be moved anyway. After that—it depends on what they have to say for themselves.”

“Thank you.” He relaxed, and smiled at me. “I know it’s a lot to ask. From now on, I’m asleep.” He snuggled down into the blankets, pulled a fold of one over his head, and began to snore loudly.

“Don’t overdo it,” I warned. “Heavy breathing will be fine.”

And I still couldn’t decide, as I crossed the courtyard, whether I believed a single word of what he’d told me.

Chapter VIII

Two men in short red cloaks got to their feet as I entered the bar-room. They had military hair-cuts and army boots and swords, but they weren’t ordinary infantry; they were unmistakeably the sort of charmless bullies that serve as military investigators. I disliked them on sight.

But I gave them my most welcoming smile. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“Good morning, Mistress Aurelia,” they said pleasantly enough. The smaller one asked, “You’re the proprietor of the mansio here?”

“I’m joint proprietor with my brother Lucius Aurelius Marcellus. But he’s away on military service at present.”

He held out his hand. “I’m Nonius, and this is Rabirius. We’re agents from the Special Services Unit at the legionary headquarters in Eburacum.” They both smiled, looking like lions in the arena, about to take their first juicy bites of doomed criminals.

“Military Intelligence, in plain Latin.” I smiled again, as I remembered that the army nickname for military investigators was Kickers and Punchers, reflecting their normal methods of interrogation. “What can I do for you? But first, have you had some breakfast?”

“Thank you, yes.” He indicated plates and wine-mugs on their table. “Your girls have looked after us nicely. You keep a good drop of Gaulish red here.”