Danger in the Wind (9 page)

I gave him my brightest smile. “Now, what will you have? If you don’t mind my saying so, from the look of those bandages, you could do with something to revive you.”

“What? Oh yes, my wretched horse threw me. And I’ve a sore chest too.” He gave another loud cough. “I’ll take a beaker of red, thank you.” He sat down, and I signalled Margarita to bring it. “Meantime, can you send someone to fetch Terentius for me, please? It really is important. He has property of mine, a small box which he’s due to hand over to me. We were supposed to meet yesterday, and he’ll be as anxious to see me as I am to see him.”

Something wasn’t right here. I caught Margarita’s eye as she brought the wine over, and knew that she sensed it too. Then Secundus came in, unusually for the middle of the afternoon, and he strode straight over to me.

“Sorry to interrupt, Aurelia, but I’d like a word when you can. It’s about Moon-cloud. I think we’re going to have trouble.”

“Really? I’ll be with you as soon as I can, Secundus. Get yourself a drink, I won’t be long.”

He nodded, and I was glad to see him lounge against the bar with a beaker of beer. I’m not afraid of any customer as a rule, but this stranger was making me nervous, and Secundus’ presence was reassuring.

Portius took a drink of his wine. “Well? Are you going to send for Terentius?”

“No. I’m afraid he’s not here now.”

The stranger frowned. “Not here? Where’s he gone then?”

I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. There was something threatening about him, a kind of tension, like a ballista about to hurl a stone. I decided to be cautious.

“I’m afraid,” I began, “that there’s been a—well, an accident here. Terentius is dead. It happened sometime in the night. His servant has run away. I’m sorry to have to give you such bad news. If you’re a friend of his….”

“Dead? Oh, I see.” His reaction surprised me. I could have expected him to be sad, or angry, and certainly to have asked how Terentius met his end. But his next question was, “What has happened to his possessions?”

“We have them here. We’ll be sending them to Eburacum with his body tomorrow.”

He looked relieved. “Ah, that’s all right then. If you’ll just give me his box? He was supposed to hand it over to me when we met.”

I decided to move from playing cautious to playing ignorant. “Box? I don’t know anything about a box.”

“But you must! I know he was travelling with it, and I presume he gave it to you for safekeeping. It contains something of mine, something I need urgently. That’s why we’d arranged to meet here, so I could take charge of it.” He was leaning forward eagerly and staring into my eyes. “Just a small box, but very valuable, vitally important. Are you sure he didn’t give it to you to lock away overnight?”

“I’m quite sure, yes.”

“May I take you into my confidence?” Portius looked down, as if embarrassed, then glanced up again. ”The fact is, he owes—I mean owed—me quite a bit of money, and I badly need some cash at present. And it’s all in the box.”

Oh really? And I’m the Queen of Brigantia. I’d been right to refuse him any information. Either he truly didn’t know what was in Terentius’ box, or maybe he knew only too well but was assuming I did not. “I wish I could help,” I said. “I wasn’t there when Terentius first arrived, so I didn’t even notice him carrying anything. And his room’s been thoroughly cleared out since he died.”

“This is a disaster. Gods, what am I going to do? I must have that box, I
must!
” He put his head in his hands and repeated, “What am I going to do?” in a kind of moan.

Again there was no curiosity about Terentius’ death. I could only think of one reason for that: he knew about it already. If he was the murderer, or if he’d told the servant to kill Terentius for the box and failed to get it, he didn’t need to ask me for the details.

Suddenly I felt scared. Terentius had died for that box, and this Portius was responsible. Would he kill for it again? I must get him out of the mansio as quickly as I could. I stood up. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more. I’m really sorry about your friend’s death. As I said, his body is being sent to the garrison at Eburacum, because he said he was on his way there. Was he serving with the Ninth Legion?”

“No, with one of the Batavian units at Isurium. He’d been away though, seconded to Londinium, a special job for the Governor. He was on his way back to base.” He sighed heavily. “Well, thank you for your time. If you haven’t got the box, I won’t hold you up any longer.” He moved towards the door. Secundus opened it for him, and he marched away without a backward look.

I relaxed when the door closed. “I’m glad he’s gone. And I’m glad you were here, Secundus. What made you think something was amiss?”

“Hawk sent me. He’s just outside under the oak tree, and he wants to see you.” He fell into step beside me as I walked out onto the forecourt. “Moon-cloud was just an excuse, the first thing that came into me head.”

Hawk was standing in the shadow of the giant oak. He smiled when he saw us. “I’m relieved you’re in one piece, Aurelia.”

“I’m all right, though that man who just left gave me a fright.”

He nodded. “I’ve been following his tracks, and there’s no doubt he killed the slave-boy in the woods. Whether he also killed the soldier, or ordered the boy to do it, I can’t say. I was worried for you when I realised he was paying you a visit. His trail was hard to follow, winding round and about, but he’s been waiting in the woods all day.”

“Perhaps he saw me go out and thought he’d have a look round.”

“He certainly did that. Tied his horse up to the rails like any customer, and then went wandering among the outbuildings, as if he was looking for someone…or something. Nobody paid him much attention, most people were out at work, so I walked up to him and asked, very politely, if I could help him. He said no, and headed for the barroom. I slipped down to the stables and warned Secundus. You drove back onto the forecourt just then, and there wasn’t time to stop you before you went inside.”

“Thanks, Hawk, I really appreciate all this.”

“What did he want?”

“He claimed to be a friend of the man who was murdered here this morning. But he wasn’t exactly grief-stricken when I told him he was dead in an accident. All he was really interested in was the small box Terentius had with him, which he said actually belonged to him. He said it contained cash, which it doesn’t, and he demanded that I hand it over.”

“And did you?” Hawk asked.

“No, I denied knowing anything about it.”

“Was he convinced?”

“I think so. I hope so.”

“So do I, but take extra care for a while. He rode off heading westwards. My son’s following him now. Between us we should be able to keep an eye on him, and see whether he might be thinking of doubling back and coming here less publicly.”

“Thanks, Hawk. We’ll certainly be on the alert from now on.”

“I’m glad to help, you know that. By the way, my daughter brought your meat round earlier, and a couple of your men fetched away the servant’s body.”

Secundus nodded. “We’ve put him with his master. Lucius’ll want to see them when he gets back.”

“Gods, yes, the love-birds will be home soon, and I haven’t even had time for a bath. I’d better hurry.”

In fact I had ample time to bathe and change, check Baca’s sewing, look into the kitchen, and pour myself a beaker of wine in the barroom, before they arrived home.

Vitellia came in first, flushed and happy. Lucius appeared a little later. I supposed he’d taken his chance to talk to the staff about my being forbidden to travel, but I could hardly ask him, so I chatted to Vitellia, pleased to find her more animated than she had been earlier. She was enthusiastic about the picnic they’d had at the summit of the Long Hill. I had to agree with her that once you’ve managed the stiff climb to the east of us, you can see for miles, and on a beautiful June day you feel on top of the world. I remembered going there with Quintus, and suddenly I no longer felt annoyed with my brother, but envied him. I wished Quintus were here with us now.

Lucius, too, was relaxed and cheerful, and made no mention of this morning’s quarrel. Before he went for his bath, I took him outside into the garden to recount the day’s happenings, at least those I felt he needed to hear about. I told how Hawk had found the slave’s body and identified the murderer. When I went on to relate Portius’ visit, he was shocked.

“Relia, you were in serious danger. You handled it well, as always. But I’m sorry. If I’d known anything like that would happen, I wouldn’t have gone out today.”

“The stuff from Terentius’ box is obviously even more important than we thought, if this Portius is searching for it so intently.”

“The quicker I get it to Eburacum the better. Terentius’ body too. I’ve spoken to Secundus about it, it’s all arranged for tomorrow.”

“You won’t take the servant’s body, presumably?”

“No point. The authorities will only be concerned about a soldier’s death, not a slave’s. I’d better have a quick look at him, I suppose.”

“I’ll wait for you here.”

He was soon back. “That’s the boy, and it’s murder for sure. And you know something? Nobody’s searched him, including the murderer. Look!” He opened his hand and showed me three gold pieces. “They were in his belt-pouch.”

“Stolen from Terentius, do you think?”

He shook his head. “His wages from this man Portius, more likely. Portius promised him money to find the box, and maybe to kill Terentius, or maybe Terentius woke up during the search and the lad acted in self-defence. And this morning the boy was all set to escape, but first he went to the woods to report back and collect his payment. That way Portius was certain of seeing the lad again.”

“So Portius put him at his ease, handed over the money…and then killed him. I told you the man scared me, even here in the bar.”

My brother heaved a sigh. “In lots of ways it would be simpler if the poor lad
had
killed himself after murdering his master. This Portius complicates matters.”

“How do you mean?”

“One soldier, Terentius, conspiring with natives could be explained as a single unfortunate incident, caused by a grudge perhaps, or greed. Two soldiers conspiring together with natives could be the start of a mutiny. You’re sure Portius was a soldier, not just wearing military gear as a disguise?”

“Quite sure. He had that military look about him, it’s unmistakeable.”

“Pity you didn’t find out more about him.”

“Sorry, I’m sure. Next time I have a murderer in the bar, I’ll get him to tell me his life story.”

He laughed. “Yes, and you would too! Most women run from danger like mice from a cat. You turn into a lion and take whatever comes.” He paused, then briefly touched my hand. “I know you’re disappointed about not going to Jovina’s. I’m sorry. I haven’t changed my mind. But I don’t want us to part in anger. Wish me good fortune on my journey.”

“I do, Lucius. May the gods be with you.”

I meant it. I no longer even felt angry with him. But I hadn’t changed my mind either.

Chapter VII

We were all outside to wave Lucius off when he left at dawn. I gave him a hug and wished him a speedy end to his assignment. Margarita, practical as ever, gave him a skin of good wine and a hearty snack for the journey. Vitellia gave him a passionate embrace and a long goodbye kiss, and to her credit, managed not to burst into tears until he was out of sight.

As I walked back towards the front door, I remembered I needed to find Taurus to pass on a message about a wagon repair from one of last evening’s customers. The door to his workshop was closed, unusually at this time of day. I turned the handle and almost tripped over something—someone—lying just inside.

It was Taurus, flat on the floor and as still as death.

“Taurus! Oh,
Taurus!
” He didn’t move, he simply lay there on the hard earth, with blood all over his face. “Taurus, it’s me. What’s happened? Can you hear me?”

Still no reaction. I felt near panic. Taurus was one of our most loyal slaves, the only one now left in our household who’d come with us from Italia twenty years ago. He was almost one of the family. If he was dead…

I yelled “Help! Help here!” and then knelt down beside him and felt his chest to see if his heart was beating. Yes, thank the gods, it was, and his flesh was warm. He was unconscious, but not dead.

I ran out onto the forecourt and almost collided with Margarita running towards me.

“Aurelia, are you all right? I heard you cry out…Oh gods, poor Taurus. What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, he’s unconscious. We need Timaeus here quickly, please.”

“I’ll get him now.” She set off at a run towards her own house, not far away from the main buildings. Her husband was a good doctor, he’d know what to do.

While we waited everyone rallied round to help. Taurus was a favourite with all of us, one of the kindest and gentlest of the slaves, despite his huge size and strength. One of the maids brought water and cloths, while another fetched two strong farm-boys with a plank to serve as a stretcher. But I decided to leave him where he was till Timaeus came, because I’ve heard him say often enough that too much damage is done to his patients by well-intentioned people moving them too soon.