The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (55 page)

As they neared the high trail, the road began to steepen. The horses had now been pushed hard for an hour and a half and all were struggling. When they reached a small house close to the road, Cosmas offered the resident a coin in return for use of his trough. He, Cassius and Indavara leaned against a gate and drank from the sergeant’s flask. The horses slurped noisily, their flesh embroidered with engorged veins. Kallikres took out a good-luck charm and whispered invocations.

‘Where does this high trail lead to?’ asked Indavara, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

Cosmas said, ‘It cuts through a pass at Kaena then enters the Bekaa valley.’

‘From there they can pick up any number of roads,’ added Cassius.

‘You can see the pass from here.’ Cosmas backed away from the gate and looked south. ‘No more than four or five miles.’

Kallikres had finished his prayers and was dragging his horse away from the trough.

‘We have tarried long enough,’ said Cassius. ‘Let’s go.’

The sun grew hotter, the road steeper. But after only half an hour more they finally reached the trail and turned south. Once more on level ground, the mounts rallied a little, as did the riders. The trail was barely wide enough for two horses to pass, allowing the trees to provide much-needed shade. Here and there, bulbous outcrops of rock broke through the ground, many of them coated with bright yellow lichen. Soaring above them were the pale grey slopes of the mountains; below was a carpet of dark green that seemed to stretch for ever, dividing the peaks from the coast. To the west, the sea occasionally sparkled through the summer haze.

They rode on, and twice Cassius had to berate Kallikres for getting too far ahead. Hunched over, face not far from his mount’s neck, he wondered what kind of state the four of them would be in if they actually caught up with the fleeing pair. Cursing as Kallikres again disappeared around a bend, Cassius glanced back at the other two. Indavara was a hundred yards behind and slumped back in his saddle, barely holding his reins. Cosmas was beside him and didn’t seem to be faring much better. Cassius knew the horses would need water again soon but they hadn’t passed a single spring and there were no dwellings this high.

Once around the bend, Cassius saw the sergeant, fifty yards away. Ahead of him were two colossal chunks of rock that had at some point fallen from above. The trail passed the first one to the left then cut down the slope to avoid the second, which was much larger. The sergeant was approaching the first rock when he held up a hand and dismounted.

Cassius looked back again; Indavara and Cosmas had just rounded the bend. He waved to Indavara then held a finger to his mouth. They halted. Cassius dropped gently to the ground and watched Kallikres. The Syrian left his horse and walked carefully forward until he was next to the first rock, close to the point where the trail turned down the slope. His hand drifted to his sword hilt as he walked on, taking care with every step.

‘Bloody fool,’ breathed Cassius. Kallikres should have waited for them if he thought there was something worth investigating. But could they really have caught up already?

The sergeant reached the edge of the smaller rock and looked around the bend. He then walked swiftly back to his mount. Stroking the animal to keep it calm, he led it back to Cassius.

‘What is it?’

‘There are two horses tied up, drinking from a pool.’

‘Did you see the riders?’

‘No. But I heard a woman’s voice.’

Once they reached Indavara and Cosmas, Kallikres again described what he’d seen and they led the horses out of sight. While the others tethered them, Cassius walked back to the bend and surveyed the terrain ahead. The weariness had momentarily left him.

‘Cosmas, you and Kallikres continue along the trail and get as close as you can. Indavara and I shall come around the right side of the smaller rock and cut them off.’

As the four of them walked along the trail, Cosmas gripped his sword.

‘Not yet,’ said Cassius. ‘Main thing is to get into position, stop them getting to their mounts. We move in when I give the shout, not before.’

Once they reached the smaller rock, Cassius and Indavara edged down the slope. Thankfully, there were few fallen twigs underfoot; it was mainly grass and fern. Cassius kept close to the rock, moving around it until he was only yards from the trail. Conscious of his colourful tunic, he got down on his knees then crawled forward. Positioning himself between two ferns, he examined the ground ahead.

The horses were tied to a low branch on the other side of the trail. One was munching grass, the other was drinking from the pool. Cassius glimpsed something beyond them. He put his head even lower so he could see between the animals’ legs.

There they were; standing together in a small clearing. The woman’s back was to Cassius, her long hair quite clear. The man was facing her, a shaft of sunlight illuminating his side. Cassius thought they were talking but it was hard to be sure.

Indavara tapped his leg. Cassius withdrew and stood beside him. ‘Got them. Man and a woman about forty feet ahead of us. Horses are in the way, though. We’ll go round.’

They retreated into the forest, then continued down the slope, staying low and using the trees and the fern for cover. They covered about thirty yards before crossing the trail, where they had a clear view of Kallikres and Cosmas. The two sergeants were standing in the shadow of the larger rock, close to the mounts but well hidden.

Cassius and Indavara continued circling around until they were on the opposite side of the clearing to the horses. The man and the woman were still standing together, talking. Cassius and Indavara darted from tree to tree, the shadows of the canopy shrouding them.

They stopped behind a broad trunk and gently drew their swords.

‘He has only the dagger,’ whispered Indavara, ‘and I see nothing on her. I’ll come in from the right and handle him.’

‘Got it.’

Keeping his blade behind his body, Indavara moved off. Cassius squatted down and peered around the tree. The woman offered her hands and the man took them. She spoke. They embraced.

Cassius glanced to his right. Indavara was still moving but this opportunity had to be taken. As if hearing his thoughts, the bodyguard turned round and they exchanged a nod.

Cassius stepped out from behind the tree and strode into the clearing.

‘Now, Cosmas!’

The pair separated and spun around, eyes darting from one interloper to the other.

‘Who are you?’ said the man, who was younger than Cassius had expected.

‘Imperial Security. I’d like to talk to you about counterfeit coins.’

The man made no attempt to reach for his dagger as Indavara sprang forward and held his arm.

The startled horses whinnied and tugged at their tethers as Cosmas and Kallikres ran around the pool into the clearing. The sergeant gave a cry and for a moment Cassius thought he was about to strike the man but he instead threw his blade aside and embraced him.

‘What are you doing?’ demanded Indavara, letting go.

Cassius grabbed the woman by the wrist and spun her around. ‘Who are you?’

‘I am Lyra, sir,’ she said, in Latin, with what to Cassius sounded like a German accent. ‘I – I – think perhaps you are looking for my master and mistress. They told us to just keep riding but the horses grew tired.’

‘Oh no,’ said Cosmas.

Kallikres was holding the young man tight, his eyes squeezed shut. Only now did the youth reciprocate, putting his arms around the sergeant.

‘Where are they?’ Indavara asked the maid. ‘Your master and mistress.’

‘I don’t know,’ said the girl. ‘They left with the other staff.’

Gritting his teeth, Cassius dug his sword blade into the soil and knelt in front of it. ‘The “bodies” under the blanket. They were right there. We had them.’

With a bellow of rage, he stood, pulled the sword out of the ground and heaved it at the nearest tree.

It bounced off and fell into a clump of fern.

‘You would like to see her, I suppose – check she’s safe?’

‘Yes.’

Indavara and Simo were sitting on a low wall next to Diadromes’s stables, waiting. A young lad came out of the kitchens, hand covering a taper, and lit the four lanterns in the corners of the courtyard. Indavara glanced up at the purple, pink and yellow that now streaked the darkening sky.

‘Anything?’ Simo asked the lad, whom they had already consulted twice about progress within. They had seen messengers, clerks and gentlemen coming and going for the past two hours and weren’t even sure if Cassius had spoken to Diadromes yet.

‘Master’s still in his meeting,’ replied the lad before returning inside.

Indavara said, ‘If he’s not out soon, I’m leaving.’

‘I’m sure she’s all right,’ replied Simo. ‘The city seems to be getting back to normal.’

‘Really? What about that?’ Indavara pointed at a distant pall of smoke to the west. Apparently the weavers had set a factory ablaze and the authorities were struggling to bring it under control.

‘You should stay – at least see Master Cassius back to the tower. He has enough to worry about.’

‘Nobody wins every time.’

‘He was so close, though,’ said Simo.

‘
We
were close. It was me that found the coins, don’t forget. If it hadn’t been for the stupid bloody magistrate and his centurion mate we would have got to that villa in time.’

‘What will happen to the sergeant, do you think?’

‘Kallikres? Not our problem. Do you know he cried when he held that boy in his arms? There were a few of the fighters who went with other men. I’ve always thought it a bit strange.’

‘It is unnatural,’ said Simo. ‘A terrible sin and an affront to the Lord.’

‘Some sins are worse than others, Simo. How many have done violence today?’

‘Sometimes there seems to be no end to it.’

‘At least some of these folk – the weavers, for example – have a reason to do it.’ Indavara kicked his heel into the wall. ‘Gods, where is he?’

Cassius was waiting too. As if the trials of the night and morning hadn’t been enough, the fruitless pursuit and ensuing frustration had sapped him of any remaining energy. He was sitting on the bench under the pine tree, in the exact position Pomponianus had occupied two days previously. He wondered what the beleaguered magistrate was doing now.

One of Diadromes’s clerks had been out to tell him that the deputy would have a few spare minutes soon but that had been an hour ago. The man at least had some other good news: according to latest reports the streets were quieter and further serious incidents had been averted.

Cassius looked down at his scratched, bruised and filthy legs. He could smell himself – horse, probably, or perhaps still the stench of the settling basin. He stuck a finger in his itchy left ear and scraped out more mud – it seemed impossible to get it all out.

A few minutes earlier he had tried drafting his letter to Abascantius and Marcellinus but his addled mind was incapable. He still couldn’t believe he had been so easily fooled. If only he’d simply dismounted and lifted those blankets he would have found this sly brother and sister. Still, they had outwitted everyone else too, and if it hadn’t been for the delay in Berytus he felt sure they would have been apprehended. In any case, it was too much to think about now; the letter could wait until the morning.

‘Crispian!’

Diadromes had at last appeared on the terrace, accompanied by a quartet of assistants.

With a sigh, Cassius dragged himself up and ambled along the path. When he arrived, Diadromes dismissed the men, one of whom pestered him with two final questions before returning inside and pulling a heavy curtain across the doorway.

The deputy magistrate was standing up very straight, as if resisting the forces piling pressure upon him. Below his eyes, the skin was puffy and grey.

Cassius imagined he didn’t look much better. ‘Long day, eh?’

‘The longest.’

‘What’s the latest?’

‘We’re talking to Pomponianus’ people. He’s agreed to hand over control of the sergeants to me for the next week. I’m hopeful he will resign and we can call an early election. Nemetorius is digging his heels in but at least seems to realise he made a mistake at the forum.’ Diadromes looked up at the sky. ‘More than fifty dead, a dozen soldiers among them.’