The Black Stone (70 page)

‘Perhaps I should go back to the house,’ he said. ‘They might be there by now.’

‘Stay and drink with me. I’ve got to report back to my unit tomorrow.’

Indavara nodded and sipped his wine.

Mercator said, ‘I must admit I’m curious to hear how in Hades they got out of Galanaq.’

‘No more talk about what’s happening down there?’

‘Not that I’ve heard. I hope the governor finds a way to keep the peace. I don’t want to ever see those mountains again.’

‘Do you think you’ll get your promotion?’

Mercator waited for a roar from the revellers to die down. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I’m better off as an optio.’

‘You’re a good leader. Good fighter too.’

‘It’s not the fighting that worries me. It’s days like today.’

Cassius had already checked three taverns. Most of the soldiers’ hostelries were in an area not far from the fortress. One street was known to be popular with the auxiliaries, particularly a big place called the Grass Crown.

He was almost there when he heard a soft voice call his name. Standing in the doorway of another tavern was the Persian bar girl. She was wearing a long, pale blue stola, her slender arms weighed down with bangles. Her hair was laced with ribbons and huge gold rings hung from her ears. She really did look like Golpari.

‘Cassius, isn’t it?’

The doorman rolled his eyes as she sashayed out to the street.

‘It is.’

‘Surely you haven’t forgotten me. I’m Delkash.’

‘Of course.’

She took his hand. ‘I thought you were going to come and visit me.’

‘I was.’

Even though the doorman and several passers-by were looking at him, Cassius was almost tempted to go inside with her right away. Even if he’d been in uniform he wouldn’t have cared if anyone saw him. The stola was cut low across her pert, tempting breasts and tight against her long, shapely legs. Perhaps this was the way to drag himself out of this fog of guilt and misery?

‘Why not tonight?’ she said.

‘Why not? But don’t see anyone else. I’ll make it worth your while.’

Delkash smiled. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

He continued along the street to the Grass Crown. The doorman questioned and searched a rough-looking pair ahead of him but waved Cassius straight through. It took him only a moment to spy Indavara and Mercator.

Cassius hesitated; he wasn’t sure why.

But then they saw him.

‘Corbulo!’ Indavara jumped up.

Cassius walked over to him and they grabbed each other by the shoulders. When he saw a rare beaming smile on the bodyguard’s face, Cassius had to swallow back the lump in his throat.

‘By the gods, it’s good to see you, Indavara.’

‘You too. Are you limping?’

‘Twisted ankle. You?’

‘I’m fine. Is Simo with you? Is he hurt?’

‘Simo’s all right. He’s back at the villa. You’ll see him soon.’

Indavara seemed disappointed. Cassius moved past him and gripped forearms with Mercator.

‘Sir, welcome back to Bostra.’

‘Mercator. What happened to your hand?’

‘Not much. I’m grateful to have nothing worse. Come, sir, have a seat.’

‘I shall. No more of that “sir” nonsense, though, please.’

Cassius spotted Apollinaris and the other two auxiliaries. ‘That’s it? I heard there were seven of you.’

‘Ingennus is at the hospital,’ said Mercator.

‘I’ll fetch you a mug.’ Indavara hurried over to the bar.

‘We got him a bed next to Druz,’ added Mercator.

‘Druz, of course.’ Cassius sat down. ‘How is he?’

‘The surgeon says we’ll just have to wait and see. Ingennus should be all right. His wounds are clean – should only be a matter of weeks.’

‘Only five of the twenty.’ Cassius let his eyes close for a moment. ‘I am sorry, Mercator.’

‘Not your fault. They knew what they were getting themselves into.’

‘And Ulixes?’

‘The first thing he did was head for the nearest dice den. He said he needed to play while his luck was in. We haven’t seen him since.’

Indavara sat down and filled their mugs from a jug.

‘Well, how did you do it?’ asked Cassius. ‘How did you get away from that bloody German?’

‘He surrendered, would you believe?’ said Mercator.

‘What?’

‘After we’d taken out about thirty of his men,’ added Indavara. ‘Your surprises came in very handy.’

They went first; each weighing in as they described the events of the previous two weeks, ending with the return to Bostra with Viridio’s cavalry. Then Cassius took his turn, again missing out just the one event. He struggled only once; when he told them about Khalima – meeting him in the tent after he had lost his hand. It wasn’t the death of Adayyid or the punishment he had suffered; it was the kindness the Saracen had showed to Cassius when he could so easily have hated him.

Later, the other auxiliaries joined them and happy greetings were exchanged. The six of them drank on through the evening, recounting further details and lightening the mood with japes and banter. By the third hour of night, Cassius’s eyes were fogging over.

When Damon fell asleep and Mercator fell off his stool, Indavara decided it was time to see Simo. Cassius knew there was no way of stopping them meeting but he could at least wash, change his clothes, then get out of there. Delkash was waiting, after all.

Once Damon had been roused they left, parting company at the top of the Via Cappadocia, Mercator and the men singing a filthy marching song.

Indavara put his arm over Cassius’s shoulder as they wove their way down the darkened street. ‘Sorry, Corbulo. Wanted to say sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘Leaving you two. I should have come back. I wanted to.’

‘I gave the order and I’m glad you obeyed it. If you hadn’t, the German would have got the stone back to his master and who knows where we’d be now?’

‘Even so, I’m supposed to be your bodyguard. Sorry.’

‘Think no more of it.’

‘At least you had Simo to look after you.’

Cassius was glad they had reached the house.

‘Eh, Corbulo?’

Cassius opened the front door. Once in the atrium they could hear voices in the kitchen.

‘Go and see him,’ he told Indavara. ‘I’m heading out again.’

‘Where?’

‘Prior engagement.’

‘A woman,’ said Indavara. ‘You sly dog. Well, you deserve it.’

He hurried into the kitchen and gave a great shout.

Cassius took an oil lamp into his bedroom and undressed. The water in the bowl by his bed was cold but he cleaned himself then dried off with an old cloak. He dabbed a pit of perfume on then found a fresh loincloth in his chest of drawers. There was a spare tunic there too.

Back in Aila, a sight of the spearhead (damaged though it was) had been enough to persuade the local procurator to loan him a hundred denarii and he still had much of it left. Once he’d secreted his money bag in his tunic, he hurried across the atrium.

His hand was inches from the door when Indavara came rushing out of the kitchen. The bodyguard grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

‘Why? Why are you doing this?’

Cassius looked past him at Simo.

‘I’m sorry, sir. I had to tell Muranda and she—’

‘It’s not my fault!’ wailed the housekeeper.

Cassius turned away and opened the door.

Indavara’s boot connected with the bottom and slammed it shut.

‘I want to know why.’

Cassius turned back around. ‘You’re drunk. Calm down.’

Indavara’s words were uttered from behind gritted teeth. ‘Tell me why you’re getting rid of Simo.’

‘I shall not. Nor do I have to. He is my concern, not yours.’

‘He is my friend. You will not do this.’

‘I will do as I wish.’

Indavara smashed his hand into the door close to Cassius’s head. He leaned in close. ‘You bastard. You don’t care for anyone but yourself.’

‘Don’t even think about striking me. You have taken an oath. Strike me and you would face a military court.’

‘I couldn’t care less.’

‘Indavara, listen. We’ve both drunk a lot. I’m not happy about the situation myself but something happened and I’ve decided to let Simo go. I know he’s your friend but I’m afraid it has to be this way.’

To Cassius’s surprise, Indavara stepped back. He then surprised him again by using his first name – one of the handful of times he’d ever done so.

‘Cassius, come on. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed. You two have always been together.’

‘Not always. Please move back. Let me open the door.’

‘Don’t do this.’

‘Please.’

Indavara let him leave.

Cassius was almost at the top of the Via Cappadocia when he heard someone running along the street behind him. He turned around and saw Indavara charge out of the darkness. For a moment he thought the bodyguard might hit him but he stopped a few yards away.

‘Tell me why or that’s it.’

‘What do you mean,“that’s it”?’

‘If Simo goes, I go.’

‘Try to get this through your head – you took an oath to the army. You must do your time.’

‘Do you really think that will keep me here?’

Cassius guessed it probably wouldn’t.

Indavara pointed at him. ‘Tell me, or the next time Abascantius comes calling, you’ll be on your own.’

‘I’m afraid you’re not indispensable either. I can find someone else.’

‘Fine. I’ll leave tomorrow too.’

Indavara set off back down the street.

He hadn’t gone far when Cassius spoke. ‘All right. All right, damn it, I’ll tell you. But not on some street corner.’

The Temple of Jupiter was close. It was locked up and quiet and the only people around was a pair of urchins who fled when they saw Cassius and Indavara walking up the steps. Cassius sat down at the top, head buzzing.

Indavara stopped three steps below and looked up at him. ‘Well?’

‘Galanaq. I told you we hid in this outhouse and escaped through a house next door. What I didn’t tell you was that while we were hiding there a guard came in. I intended to stab him but I changed my mind. I hit him with the handle of my dagger. I thought it would stun him, knock him out. But he fell and began to shake. It was some sort of fit. Simo tried to help him but he could do nothing. He stopped breathing.’

Cassius was glad of the darkness. ‘I killed him.’

‘Doesn’t sound like you had much choice.’

‘He was young. He sounded scared.’

‘You’re young,’ replied Indavara quickly. ‘You were scared. You know as well as I do what they would have done to you. You did the right thing.’

‘You say things like that as if it has no meaning. It is easy for you – killing is what you do.’

‘You think I enjoy it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I don’t understand what this has to do with Simo.’

‘He did nothing. Just stood there and let
me
do it. He wouldn’t even say what you said – ease the pain of it for me. How dare he sit in judgement of me? He is my slave. He
belongs
to me.’

‘You’re angry.’

‘I’m tired. Tired of thinking about it. Tired of drinking to stop thinking about it. But I can’t. To end another’s life … by the gods, Indavara. I was supposed to be an orator. To have killed …’