Buried Too Deep (13 page)

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Authors: Jane Finnis

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Historical, #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General

BOOK: Buried Too Deep
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Chapter XIII

“So thanks to Voltacos, you’ve had an eventful time,” Margarita smiled, and poured me a second beaker of red. “Rescuing a shepherd boy, losing a box of gold, finding an unpleasant surprise on the wrecked boat, and worst of all, a band of Gauls raiding Albia’s farm. And you’ve only been away two days!”

“It’s good to be home again.” I was sitting at a table near the bar, engaged in one of my favourite occupations: sipping my wine while looking round at a satisfyingly busy bar-room. “I tried to persuade Albia to bring the children here for a few days, but you know my sister. She didn’t want to leave Candidus and home.”

“It must have been a horrible experience for them. But Lucius is doing something about the raiders?”

“Yes, he is. And he’s offering a reward for the missing cargo. He wants us to spread the word here. I was wondering about putting up a notice.”

“Why not? Tell me what you’d like it to say, and I’ll write it.”

We grinned at each other. There was no need to add that her handwriting was very much neater and smarter than mine.

”Now tell me your news. Is all well here?”

She nodded. “Very well. Two guests stayed last night, and a very sober and quiet evening we all had—no more birthday parties.”

“How’s Timaeus? Have there been more wounded for him to treat?”

She delayed answering long enough to take a big jug of beer to a nearby table, where three farmers pleaded that they were dying of thirst. “Two more came yesterday, both from the wold country. One was from the Parisi, the other a young Roman lad. Both said they’d been attacked by the Gauls. The only thing was, the native said the raiders are in the pay of Roman settlers, but the Roman boy said they are working for a local chief called Bodvocus.”

“There’s certainly some kind of feud going on between those two, but whether it involves Voltacos, we don’t know yet. We saw a small example of the quarrel yesterday. Landowners moving one another’s boundary stones, trying to steal their neighbours’ fields.”

“Well, if anyone can sort them out, it’s your brother. Oh, I nearly forgot something important: there’s a note for you from Chief Councillor Silvanius. It came yesterday.” She went over to the bar and reached up to the high shelf where we always keep important messages. This one was in the form of a scroll, neatly tied and adorned with Silvanius Clarus’ seal.

“Maybe its an invitation to a banquet. One can always hope.” I broke the seal.

“I suppose the messenger didn’t let slip any hint about what he wants?”

“Not a word. I explained that you’d be away till at least this evening, perhaps longer, and asked him to tell Silvanius I was sure you’d answer the letter as soon as you could when you got back.”

“Good, thank you. Well, I’d better see what he wants.”

The message was longer than it need have been, because its meaning was wrapped up in the flowery formal language that Clarus loved. He wanted me to visit him and his sister at his “humble abode”—his enormous villa the other side of Oak Bridges—in order to “partake of a little refreshment, and to discuss a matter of some delicacy with which I believe you can help me.”

Margarita made no attempt to hide her curiosity. “Are you any the wiser?”

“Not much. He wants me to visit him, but he doesn’t say why. I expect he wants me to suggest some special wines for his next banquet.”

“Will you go this afternoon?”

“No, I’ve done enough travelling for one day. Tomorrow will be soon enough. I’d better send a reply today though. It isn’t every day I’m summoned to His Pomposity’s humble abode.”

I went into my study and wrote a brief note for Clarus saying I’d be delighted to visit him tomorrow. While I was at it, I jotted down what I hoped was enticing wording for a notice offering a hundred aurei for information leading to recovery of Lucius’ missing gold. I gave this to Margarita, then took my message for the Chief Councillor round to the stables so that one of the horse-boys could deliver it. As I crossed the forecourt, Taurus fell into step beside me, and I remembered guiltily that I hadn’t given a thought to the wagon’s slow progress home from the coast, or to its gruesome contents.

“Hello, Taurus. You had a safe journey home, I hope?”

“We did, Mistress. Got back last night. I was wondering…what shall we do with the remains of the poor man from the boat? We’ve put him in one of the old farm buildings out of the way for now, but he can’t stay there, can he? Shall we build a pyre for him?”

“Yes please, in the usual field. Get one of the farm boys to help you. We’ll give him a ceremony at sunset.”

“Did Master Lucius know him?” Taurus asked. “He seemed to behave very strange when he saw him in the box. Not like himself at all. Made me wonder.”

“You’re right, Taurus, he did.” I reflected that this big, simple slave wasn’t anywhere near as stupid as most people thought. “The man was a—an acquaintance of Lucius’, from down south. It gave him a shock, coming on him like that.”

“It gave us all a shock, Mistress. Right then, I’ll organise the pyre, leave it to me.”

In the stable yard I found Secundus, who said he’d see that my message went to Oak Bridges within the hour. I asked how things were going.

“Everything’s fine with the stables.” There was an odd emphasis in the way he said those last few words.

“That’s good. Anything else I should know about?”

“Just one thing. Our Victor will be home sometime today. A courier from Eburacum, one of his mates, called in to tell me he’s on his way.”

“Really?” I paused, not sure what to say to him. He’d be pleased to see his son, we all would. And yet the circumstances were so sad. “You’ll let me know when he gets here, won’t you? And tell him I’m sorry for what happened, but I’m proud of him too. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s saved his company’s standard.”

He smiled. “Aye, I will. By the gods, look at this beauty!”

I followed his gaze, and wasn’t too surprised to see that the “beauty” was a horse, not a woman. One of the boys was leading an extremely handsome white gelding into the yard. It was a very fine animal, big and well-muscled, with a brilliant white coat and thick mane, and it stood out among the usual travel-worn mounts like a rose in a thistle patch. Its saddle and bridle were smart and new, with fancy bronze trimmings.

“Beauty is right, Secundus! Where’s he from, I wonder? I’ve never seen him before, I’d remember a gorgeous horse like that.” I’ve a good memory for horseflesh—my family say it’s better than my memory for people—and I envied the man who owned such a lovely creature. Presumably he was in the bar now. I must make a point of congratulating him.

“Superb, isn’t he?” A voice behind us made me spin round, and my heart gave a great leap as I saw the tall fair-haired man walking towards me, smiling and holding out his hand. It was Quintus Antonius Delfinus.

“Why,
Quintus!
Welcome to the Oak Tree!” Of course that wasn’t what I really wanted to say. I felt like running into his arms, and, between kisses, telling him how happy I was to see him again. But that wasn’t our way. We were lovers, but we kept the fact discreet, so a proper greeting would have to wait till we were by ourselves. I simply took his hand and smiled into his eyes, and then nodded towards the horse. “I’m just wondering if I can get away with stealing that gorgeous beast before the owner finishes his drink.”

“You’ve left it too late. He’s mine.” He was standing beside me now, and I had to make a considerable effort to stay so near him without touching.

“Yours? You’d never ride a flashy animal like that.” Quintus is an investigator like Lucius, but a more senior one, working directly for the Emperor. “You always try to be inconspicuous when you travel. If he’s really your horse, I’m the Queen of Brigantia!”

He made me a deep bow. “Well, Your Majesty, he’s truly mine. I won him two nights ago in a dice-game in Eburacum, from a staff officer with more money than sense.” His purple-blue eyes flashed, and I knew that the win itself would have given him as much pleasure as the prize. “So I thought, where can I try out such a wonderful animal? Of course, I’ll visit Oak Bridges for a few days, and show him off to Aurelia.”

“I’m very pleased you did.” That was putting it mildly. I hadn’t seen him for six months, but we could make up a lot of lost time if he was planning to be at the Oak Tree for a few days.

“Mind you,” he added, “that’s if I haven’t died of thirst in the meantime. I thought you innkeepers were supposed to be generous and hospitable, and here you are, keeping me chatting in the yard, and you haven’t offered me so much as a beaker of water!”

I laughed. “You should have said that’s what you wanted. I thought you’d come here just to gloat about your horse.”

We didn’t linger in the bar-room, pausing only long enough for me to ask Margarita to send wine and food through to us. Then we headed for my private sitting-room, where we threw away discretion and I gave him a real welcome. Soon a knock at the door announced Margarita with a tray of wine and food. She greeted Quintus cordially, though not quite as enthusiastically as I’d done, and smiled at me as she put down the meal on the table.

“Everything’s under control in the bar, Aurelia. And you and Quintus Antonius will have business to discuss, so I’ll see that you’re not disturbed for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Thanks, Margarita. We appreciate it.”

“She’s a sensible girl,” Quintus said when we were alone again and could resume our greeting.

“She is. And if she’s prepared to cover for me this afternoon, let’s make the most of it.”

I poured the wine and we drank to each other, sitting side by side on a couch. He moved closer and murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you. Tell me, have we business to discuss, as Margarita put it, or is this just a social call?”

“Business and pleasure together.” He leaned back and stretched out his long legs.

“I think I can guess the pleasure. And the business might be connected with a band of pirates?”

“Not directly, though I’m afraid I shan’t be able to avoid dealing with them. But the Emperor’s had a report from a Roman landowner, a fairly new settler, that the Parisi tribesmen near the coast are making trouble, and may be hatching some kind of conspiracy against Rome.”

“That would be Ostorius Magnus complaining about Chief Bodvocus, I expect.”

He spread his hands and gave me a rueful smile. “I might have guessed you’d know all about it. I swear you get news of events before they’ve even happened! I don’t know why I don’t just set up my headquarters in your bar-room, and gather intelligence from there.”

“Isn’t that what I’m always telling you? But how does Caesar come into this? Does Magnus have connections at court?”

“One of his old army friends is highly placed in the Praetorian Guard.” He bent close and kissed me. “But don’t let’s talk about it now. We’ll have to face work soon enough, but I want this afternoon to be for us two. Can you really leave Margarita to run the bar?”

“Just watch me! There’s only one thing I must do, and that’s at sunset. But we’ve plenty of time before then.”

We had more than enough time for love. We flew like birds soaring over the green hills, absorbed in each other to the exclusion of everything else. But even birds must leave the sky sometime, and glide gently back to earth.

“I’m hungry,” Quintus announced.

“So am I.” I fetched the tray of food Margarita had brought, and served each of us a plate with bread, olives, and slices of sausage, while he poured more wine.

“This is a feast!” he exclaimed with his mouth full. “And while we eat, you can tell me what you know about Ostorius Magnus and Bodvocus, and these accursed Gauls.”

He listened without interrupting while I went through the events of the last few days in order, and stopped me when I came to the shipwreck with its unpleasant cargo.

“What was the head like?”

“He had long fair hair, a pale complexion, no beard, blue eyes, no scars. A youngish man I’d say, not more than thirty-five. You can see him for yourself if you like. He’s in one of our out-buildings. The funeral’s at sunset.”

“No, there’s no need. I just wanted to be sure.”

“Was it one of the boat’s crew?”

“No.
Merda,
it’s a pity I missed Lucius. I hoped to catch him before he left Eburacum, but I was too late. I have to see him, it’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’ll ride over to the coast tomorrow. I hope he’s not feeling too downcast about the missing gold? It wasn’t his fault.”

“I told him that, but I he was depressed about it, and annoyed, because he thought the
Sea Hors
e had been under observation the whole time after it came ashore. And…” But something stopped me telling Quintus that Lucius knew the identity of the man in the chest.

“And?” Quintus prompted.

“And,” I improvised, “he reckons that if Voltacos stole the cargo, he must have had help from someone ashore. Perhaps even the fishermen who appeared to be so helpful.”

“He probably did, but that isn’t the point. Can I tell you something in confidence?”

“Of course not. I’ll spread it all over Brigantia. Really, Quintus, don’t you know by now that I can keep secrets?”

He took my hand. ”Sorry. It’s just that this is sensitive. The gold was never in the
Sea Horse
at all
.


What?

“It was removed before it sailed from Londinium, and a substitute chest put in to replace it.”

“But Lucius said he helped prepare that cargo himself. He said—and here’s another secret I’ve managed to keep!—that it was a chest full of gold coin to bribe some Caledonian chieftain.”

“So it was. But just before it was due to go north, our agents in Caledonia sent word that the chieftain Caesar was about to honour with such a marvellous gift was playing fast and loose with us. He was going to take the gold and then lead a collection of natives tribes across our frontier and down into Brigantia. Using, if you please, Caesar’s gold to finance it.”

“Devious, but pretty much in character for those northern tribes. Why didn’t you just stop the boat sailing?”

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