Shadows in the Night (33 page)

“Yes. I only hope there’s still a mansio for him to come home to. Now you and Quintus be careful on the road, won’t you?”

It was a pleasant day for a ride, breezy and sunny, drying out the soaking woods and fields after yesterday’s deluge. We urged the horses into a gallop, enjoying the wonderful feeling of motion and freedom.

As we slowed down on the outskirts of Oak Bridges, Quintus glanced at me and said, “You ride like a man.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one. Most women perch uncomfortably on a saddle, but you ride as if you’re part of your horse….What’s the matter? You keep looking up and down the road.”

“I’m just wishing there was a bit more traffic on it. This is the middle of summer, a good fine morning, yet there’s hardly a man or a beast stirring. The Campaign of Terror is beginning to bite.”

With this depressing thought we rode through Oak Bridges, which seemed almost deserted, and trotted along the country road towards Silvanius’ villa.

“It’s still too quiet for my liking,” I commented.

“Here comes someone now,” Taurus said suddenly. “Hoof-beats behind us, coming up fast. Listen!”

We turned as we caught the sound, and all instinctively looked about us. We’d just rounded a bend, and were hemmed in by trees on either side. We could hear two sets of hooves, but the riders would be on us before we could see them. If these two meant trouble, this was the kind of place they would choose for it. Quintus drew his sword, and Taurus and I drew our daggers.

Chapter XXI

But as the riders rounded the bend, we recognised Felix with his giant bodyguard. They slid to a halt, their horses panting.

“Felix!” I exclaimed. “Jupiter, you gave us a fright. What in Hades are you doing, galloping about like the Parthian cavalry?”

“Aurelia, my dear! The gods be thanked! You’re safe? We heard there was trouble at the Oak Tree last night.”

“You could say that, but yes, we’re safe. We’re just on our way to see Clarus. Let me present one of our guests, Quintus Valerius Longinus, bridge engineer. Quintus Valerius, this is Cornelius Felix, one of our town councillors, and a patron of the theatre.”

They acknowledged one another courteously. I noticed that Felix looked tired and drawn. Had anyone in Oak Bridges had a decent night’s sleep? But he gave us his most charming smile. “Are you here to survey our splendid oak bridges? Are they going to collapse one dark night and deposit some unwary traveller into a watery grave?”

“I hope not,” Quintus smiled back. “But I haven’t started my inspection yet. If I find anything amiss, I’ll make sure the town council is informed straight away.”

I began to walk my horse along the road. “Let’s not waste time. We need to see Clarus urgently.”

“So do I, so do I! Something quite dreadful has happened.”

“What?”

“I feel I’ve been assaulted…violated….”

“Whatever is it? Have you been attacked?”

“Not personally, no. But my beautiful statue of Nero. My Apollo. Someone broke into my garden last night in the storm, and smashed it to pieces. Into a million tiny pieces!”

If this had happened to anyone else, I think I’d have wanted to laugh. I’d spent the night trying to avoid being killed, and he was lamenting the loss of a statue! But I knew how he valued this particular work of art, and whoever had broken it must have done it to hurt him.

“Oh, Felix, I’m sorry. It was a beautiful piece. And something you really valued. Was it the only thing that was damaged?”

“Oh yes. They knew where to find my most precious possession. It’s irreplaceable, quite irreplaceable….”

“It was the Shadow-men, presumably?” Quintus asked.

“Who else? The barbarians at our gates.”

“Quite literally, in our case.” I told him about the attack, and the betraying of the password. He was still exclaiming over this as we turned our horses into Silvanius’ drive. We were dismounting at the main door when the Chief Councillor himself emerged from the house. He looked haggard and harassed, and he wasn’t wearing his toga.

“Thank the gods!” he exclaimed when he saw us all. “I was about to send for you, Felix, and you too, Aurelia. And this—” he glanced at Quintus—“if I’m not mistaken, must be your bridge surveyor, who survived the Shadow-men?”

“Quintus Valerius Longinus, at your service, Chief Councillor,” Quintus answered, and they shook hands.

“What’s happened, Publius?” Felix asked. “You were going to send for us? Don’t say you’ve got more bad news. Aurelia and I are both the bearers of terrible tidings….”

“Dreadful news, yes. Old Vedius was killed last night.”

“Gods, no!” I was never one of Vedius senior’s keenest admirers, but that didn’t mean I wished him dead. “Was he out on patrol?”

“No, on his way here. He was at home, and he received a letter, asking him to come to my house urgently. Although it was late, and such a filthy night, he set off—his wife says he left home just as it was getting dark. But he never got here. He was attacked on the road, and his body was found at first light.”

“You sent him a letter?” I asked. “Who knew you’d sent it? Who knew he’d be coming here?”

“No, I said he
received
a letter,” Silvanius corrected. “I did not write it. It was a forgery. Quite a competent one, and it included the password, so he thought it was genuine….” He stopped abruptly. “But forgive me, I’m forgetting my manners. This horrible business….Let us go into my study. You’ll take some wine?”

While his major-domo brought it, I told him about the attack, and also about the greetings from Messapus on my wall. Then Felix piled Pelion on Ossa by recounting the destruction of his Apollo.

“This is frightful.” Silvanius looked round distractedly as if he expected yelling barbarian hordes to come pouring into his garden there and then. “Your mansio attacked…Vedius killed…your beautiful statue broken…and someone in our trusted circle betraying our secrets!”

“There’s only one person it can be,” Felix said. “The potter with the feet of clay. And I hesitate to say ‘I told you so,’ but….”

“That’s what we think too,” I said. “If there’s really a traitor among the five of us who met here three days ago, it can only be Balbus.”

“I agree, though it gives me no pleasure.” Silvanius sighed. “So what’s the best course of action now? Arrest him, I think, and have him sent to Eburacum. What do you say, Aurelia?”

There was a knock on the door and the major-domo came in.

“Excuse me, my lord, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Councillor Fannius Balbus has sent a messenger, begging you to visit him at his shop urgently. He says something disastrous has happened there. The Councillor is uninjured, but very shaken.”

“Disastrous? Did he give any more details?” Silvanius demanded.

“No, my lord.”

“Nothing at all?”

The slave shook his head. “No, my lord. He simply delivered his message, and said his master had told him to return straight away.”

“Then I must go and see him. We all will. Order the large carriage immediately,” Silvanius told the slave. “And I’ll need three mounted men as escort. We’ll all go together.”

The servant left, and we sat there in gloomy silence.

“He didn’t use the password,” Felix said at last. “Is that significant? Does he know it’s been betrayed?”

“He could just have forgotten,” I suggested. “If something awful has happened.”

“Or it could be a trap,” Quintus muttered.

“It could,” Silvanius agreed. “If we’re right about Balbus betraying us. But he is a friend, and he is asking for our help. We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now, and we’ll be on our guard.”

He got to his feet; we three made to follow his example, but he waved us down again. “No no, stay there till the carriage comes. I am only going to change into my toga.”

While he was gone Vitalis strolled in, looking every inch the well-groomed young Roman gentleman, in a white tunic with dark green trimmings, except that he had a livid cut on his left arm. Somebody had plastered it with healing ointment, which made it stand out even more. You’ve been in a fight, my lad, I thought, and we all know where. But he showed no emotion at the sight of me and Quintus.

“Felix, are you….Oh, good morning, Aurelia. And this is Quintus Valerius Longinus, I presume?”

“We meet again,” Quintus said, as they eyed each other warily. Both were doubtless remembering the way Quintus had dealt with the drunken warrior in my bar.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Vitalis said. “Is something wrong? You all look very serious.”

“Aurelia has been telling us about an attack on the Oak Tree,” Felix answered. “And now we’ve heard that Vedius has been killed, and Balbus has had some sort of catastrophe and wants us all to go to his shop.”

“Oh, I see.” Vitalis didn’t look concerned, just mildly disappointed. “Are you going too, Felix? Only you did say you’d hear my lines again today.”

“My dear boy, so I did. And so I will. I’m sure Balbus won’t miss me, and I doubt if I can be of much help in a ceramics crisis.”

“Good. I still need some final rehearsing,” he said to Quintus and me. He had nerve, I couldn’t deny it.

I decided to try to shake him a little. “You’ve been in the wars, Vitalis. What happened to your arm?”

His composure was unruffled. “I was on patrol last night. One of the new watch patrols, you know. Somebody threw a stone at me. I hope it doesn’t put the girls off,” he added, with his dazzling smile.

“Where did it happen?”

There was a tiny hesitation before he answered, “Near Father’s temple.”

“You’re certainly doing a good job, you night-watchmen,” Quintus commented genially. “It must take guts, going out there in the dark, never knowing what you’ll have to face.”

“Someone’s got to do it,” Vitalis said, with a becoming air of modesty.

“Well, all credit to you, I say. How’s the poor man who lost his foot?”

“Pretty ill. We don’t know if he’ll survive, but….” He stopped. “So they say. I haven’t seen him yet, myself.”

“Vitalis, we’d better go and make our excuses to Publius,” Felix said, getting up from his couch. “Then we’ll find somewhere quiet for a rehearsal. Aurelia dear, and Valerius Longinus, you will forgive us, won’t you?”

“Our bout, I think,” Quintus murmured when they’d gone. “If Vitalis isn’t up to his ears in this rebellion, I’ll eat my boots! And I still wonder about his father. Surely he has to be in it too?”

It didn’t take long to drive to the pottery shop in His Pomposity’s grand carriage. The forum was quiet, and the shop looked much as usual from the street.

But when we stepped inside, it was like plunging into a nightmare. The whole interior was in ruins. Somebody had efficiently and mercilessly smashed up the entire place and everything in it. The floor was a finger deep in pieces of broken pot and glass; there wasn’t a fragment longer than my thumb, and most of them were shorter. The shelves were chopped to splinters which lay everywhere in heaps. The walls, including the green alcove, were smeared with patches of black paint. On the biggest bare patch of wall was the usual threatening message—with Balbus’ name instead of “All Romans”—and ending with a greeting from Messapus.

What made this appalling mess almost unbearable was the sight of Balbus and Ennia, standing in the midst of it all, white-faced and forlorn, surveying the wreck of their livelihood.

Chapter XXII

Ennia was crying, and Balbus was shaking; he was either going to explode, or start crying too. We went to them, surrounding them as if by our physical presence we could somehow help, though there was no comfort any of us could offer for this sort of horror. As I embraced Ennia she moaned, “Not again! Dear gods, not again! I can’t bear it!” I remembered what she’d told me about their troubles in Gaul. I hugged her tight, trying to show her the enormous sympathy I felt for both of them. I knew how I’d feel if somebody did this to the Oak Tree. After last night, I knew all too clearly.

I could sense that Balbus was angry for two quite different reasons. He’d lost his beautiful pots and glass, many of them exceptionally lovely pieces which he’d gone to endless trouble to seek out and import. But he’d also lost his whole stock-in-trade, and rich though he was, he’d find it hard to start again from scratch, even if he had the heart to.

A slave came in from the living quarters at the back, with a tray of wine. Balbus roused himself to invite us through to their sitting-room, where we sat around awkwardly. I perched on a couch next to Ennia, who was still crying. I put my arm round her and just held her, and gradually her tears dried.

Quintus was telling Balbus about last night’s attack, with Silvanius chipping in comments and asking questions. I found it hard to concentrate on what they were saying, until I heard Quintus remark, “Balbus, you know who’s done this, don’t you?”

He looked, if possible, even angrier. “I think it must be my foreman. He’s gone missing, since yesterday afternoon. His woman and child have gone too, which makes it look as if he’s run off for good. When I find the bastard, I’ll kill him!”