The Black Stone (27 page)

‘My uncle had one,’ he continued, ‘though not quite so big. One day it decided to attack my aunt’s cat. They had to stick eight spears in it to stop the bloody thing and even then they couldn’t get the teeth open.’

‘Oh gods,’ said Ulixes. ‘Here she comes.’

Though certainly over forty, Zaara-Kitar moved with a purposeful, sensual grace. Her sleeveless, dark green tunic reached almost to her ankles and was embroidered with swirling gold as bright as the dozens of bangles upon her wrists. Her hair was cut short at her collar and almost as black as her sons’. Only when she came close did Cassius see the powder upon her face and the wrinkles on her upper arms. Wrapped around one of them was a silver serpent. Trailing along in her wake, head down, was a young maid clothed in the dullest, most shapeless tunic imaginable.

Kushara and the other man stood up.

Zaara-Kitar headed straight for Ulixes. She bent over, put her hand softly on his cheek, then raked her nails down it.

‘Uh! Gods, you—’

Rage flashed in the lady’s eyes. ‘You
what
? Say it – I dare you!’

‘M-my apologies,’ stuttered Ulixes.

The dog was growling. Zaara-Kitar glared at the gambler, her narrow chest heaving. Cassius spied streaks of blood upon one of her nails. He also noticed that one of the fingers on her other hand was missing. She pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

‘I don’t believe I have
ever
been made to wait so long for a debt to be repaid.’ Her voice was a soft purr, her accent that of an easterner for whom Greek was a foreign language. ‘I hope for your sake you have something for me.’

She turned to Cassius. ‘Who is this handsome fellow?’

‘Master Crispian,’ said Ulixes. ‘A business associate.’

Zaara-Kitar seemed rather amused by this concept. She turned her attention to Indavara, examining him from head to toe. ‘And you’re the bodyguard. It has been known for certain individuals to put one or two of my sons down but I don’t recall anyone ever managing four. Are you available for hire?’

Indavara shook his head. So did Kushara.

Zaara-Kitar pointed at an ornate high-backed chair which the maid brought over. She sat down and crossed her arms. ‘I have an appointment at the ninth hour.’ She turned towards Ulixes. ‘Give me a number.’

‘Fifteen aurei.’

‘My bookkeeper tells me twenty-five, when the correct amounts of interest are taken into account. Considering the trouble you have caused me and the incident today we shall call it thirty.’

‘My original debt was five!’

She turned to her son, who – like the dog handler – had sat down again. ‘I do believe he’s arguing.’

Ulixes held up both hands. ‘No, good lady. I am not. May I discuss the matter with Master Crispian?’

‘You may.’

Cassius and Ulixes were sitting at opposite ends of the couch. With a wary glance at the mastiff, Ulixes got up and swapped places with Simo.

‘Well?’ he whispered, brow now beaded with sweat. ‘Do you have that much?’

‘Yes. But you do understand it will come out of your fee?’

‘Of course.’

Ulixes looked across the atrium at a small central courtyard. He wiped his brow and turned to Zaara-Kitar. ‘We have it.’

‘I don’t see it.’

‘We can have it here in—’

‘One hour,’ said Cassius.

‘You two will stay here,’ said the lady.

Cassius gestured for Indavara and Simo to get up. ‘Be as quick as you can.’

Zaara-Kitar clicked her fingers and aimed a finger at an hourglass on a table. The maid turned it over.

The moneylender smiled at Cassius. ‘Quite right, Master Crispian, because if there aren’t thirty gold coins here before that sand runs out, your “business associate” will be taking a trip to the garden.’

‘What?’ asked Indavara.

‘Just go!’ ordered Cassius.

As the pair hurried away, Ulixes clasped his hands and appealed to his host. ‘Please, no. Don’t even say that.’

‘People talk,’ said Zaara-Kitar as she stood. ‘They know you owed me. They know you didn’t pay. You have made me appear weak.’

She walked over to Cassius. ‘Do you see my missing finger, Master Crispian? I shall tell you how I came to lose it. My father loved sayings, expressions. He used them to teach us. Well, that and some other methods. As a child I loved honey; I couldn’t get enough of it. I won’t touch the stuff now – for reasons that will become obvious – but it was my favourite thing in the world. So sticky, so sweet. When I was three my father caught me dipping my finger into a pot. He sat me down and told me that if I ever did it again he would chop that finger off. I didn’t believe him. So I did it again. And he did exactly as he’d said he would. Can you guess what my father’s favourite expression was?’

Cassius shook his head.

‘Actions speak louder than words.’

With that she strode out of the room, the maid not far behind.

Cassius looked at Ulixes. ‘What’s in the garden?’

The gambler was too busy praying to reply.

Kushara threw his head back and unleashed a throaty, savage laugh.

Indavara thought he and Simo had done pretty well. Once at the bottom of the villa’s drive and back in the city streets their only real obstacle had been a busy slave auction. Once through this, a combination of asking directions and educated guesswork got them back to the inn.

‘How long did that take?’ he asked as they jogged past the auxiliary Mercator had left on guard.

Simo had to take a deep breath before replying. ‘Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.’

Ignoring old Jabbal – who was sweeping up – Indavara hurried along to their room. He dropped down, reached under his bed and pulled the barrel out. Once the stopper was unscrewed, he began clawing out the coins. Simo grabbed a skin of water and poured its contents down his throat.

‘Come on, Simo, I need you to count.’

The Gaul knelt beside him. ‘What shall we put them in? Master Cassius’s bag?’

‘That’ll do.’ Indavara took the satchel from the table and emptied out the contents.

Simo had already finished counting. ‘Thirty.’

Indavara scooped the coins into the satchel. ‘Let’s go.’

Cassius reckoned at least half an hour had already passed. On the couch opposite, Kushara was cleaning his fingernails with the tip of his knife. The dog handler was alternating between picking his nose and stroking the dog. The Molossus was sitting upright, drooling onto the floor.

Head in his hands, Ulixes continued his prayers. Having so far invoked all twelve of the great Roman gods, he’d also appealed to a few local deities and was now working his way through the Greek and Egyptian pantheons.

Arriving back at the slave auction, Indavara was dismayed to see that the crowd had trebled in size. He soon saw why: upon a high platform were three young women being paraded before the crowd. Clearly from some distant northern province, they were tall, fair haired and clothed in short, low-cut tunics. The auctioneer’s voice could barely be heard above the whistles and shouts.

‘Balls,’ said Indavara. ‘It’ll take ages to get through there.’

‘Perhaps we can go around?’ said Simo between breaths.

Keeping a tight grip on the satchel, Indavara retraced their steps then ran along a parallel street. At the far end was an open gate, but as they got closer he realised it was the side entrance to a private townhouse. The three-storey building was still under construction and encased by wooden scaffolding. Next to the gate was a pile of sand and stacks of limestone blocks. Labourers were carrying the blocks in for other artisans working with chisels and hammers.

Indavara could see right through the property to the gate on the opposite side. Beyond was an alley. If they could get there and cut right, they’d be only a stone’s throw from the villa’s drive.

‘Straight through?’ he suggested.

‘There are a lot of workers in there,’ replied Simo anxiously.

‘So hopefully no one will notice two more.’ Indavara waited for the next labourer to pick up his block and return through the gate, then took one for himself. It was quite heavy but he got it up on his shoulder easily enough. ‘Quick.’

‘Oh, Lord.’ Simo took a little longer to raise his stone.

‘Come on, we’re running out of time.’

The labourers had walked off to the right to deposit their loads but one was already on his way back. ‘Who are you?’

‘We’re … er … with the other crew,’ Indavara said as he came through the gate.

‘Oh.’

Indavara winced but hurried on towards the side of the villa, Simo close behind. They walked up some steps and through a doorway into an unfinished atrium where more men were working on a floor mosaic. Just as the pair exited the other side of the villa, they heard a shout.

‘Hey! Hey, you!’

‘Oh no,’ said Simo.

Spying a trio of labourers coming after them, Indavara dumped his block and ran past a mound of rubble to the side gate. It was identical to the other one – except it was shut and secured by a padlocked iron chain.

‘Shit.’

As he and Simo turned round, the labourers piled out of the villa. One was the man Indavara had spoken to.

Another, older fellow spoke up. ‘Take us for cretins, do you? There
is
no other crew. Least now we know who’s been stealing our supplies.’

‘Not us,’ said Indavara.

‘What in Hades were you doing with the stones, then?’

‘Listen.’ Indavara patted the satchel. ‘I have some gold coins in here. If I give you one will you let us go on our way?’

The leader looked at the others, then all three laughed.

The jollity didn’t last. The leader stalked towards Indavara and pointed at Simo. ‘Balbus, you watch Fatso. We’ll take care of this one.’

Balbus – a bearded giant even taller and heavier than Simo – approached the Gaul. Simo tried an appeasing smile, to no obvious effect.

Indavara looked over his shoulder. The wall was high and he could see no way over. He glanced at the villa. The wooden scaffold was between the side of the building and the wall. The alley beyond was narrow, the houses opposite close.

‘Hundreds of sesterces you thieving cocksuckers have cost us,’ said the labourer, pulling a hammer from his belt. ‘It’s time for some payback.’

‘Sorry, Simo. We don’t have time to mess around.’

Indavara ran: through the lowest level of scaffolding, along the side of the villa, then inside through a low window. The mosaic-makers watched as he bounded up the staircase.

On the first level there were little more than walls and floorboards. From below came several shouts as the labourers gave chase. He raced up the next staircase; on the top level there were only floorboards.

Once at the edge of the structure he looked down through the scaffolding. The sloping roofs of the townhouses opposite were about ten feet below. He reckoned the distance across the alley to be no more than fifteen feet. Close enough.

He heard the labourers on the first floor. He ran back to the staircase and looked down. The leader was charging up at him, face red, still gripping the hammer. Indavara looked back at the scaffold. Enough of a run-up? It would have to be.

‘Put that down.’

Simo took the block from his shoulder and held it across his chest. He could hear the men yelling as they chased Indavara but all he could think about was that horrible villa and those horrible people. Surely the hour was almost up. What would they do to that man Ulixes and Master Cassius? He had to get away too.