The Imperial Banner (44 page)

‘Get the bloody key!’

The guard was still. Cassius knelt down and reached for the key. He could see men rushing out of the front of the villa, guards with lanterns leading the way.

Indavara decided he would let the man keep his sword. He freed his right arm and drove his elbow back into his foe’s face. Catching him between the eyes, he sent him several yards backwards and into a tree. The guard slid down between the branches: unconscious, but still gripping his sword.

Cassius tore the key ring off the belt and ran through the trees, closely followed by Indavara. He found the lock with his fingers, slid the key in and turned it. Together they wrenched open the gate and bundled through on to the street. Cassius set off and had already reached the trees when Indavara turned back and shut the gate.

‘What are you doing?’ Cassius bawled.

Indavara reached through the bars and grabbed the key ring. He tugged on it hard, snapping the key close to the lock. Two guards charged through the trees. Skidding to a halt at the gate, they reached through the bars, flailing hands missing Indavara by inches as he turned and bolted away.

There were already more men coming round the corner from the main entrance as Cassius and Indavara sped past the poplars. Grateful he was without his sword, Cassius set a fearsome pace, driven on by pure terror. After what Indavara had done to the guards, he knew retribution would be violent and swift if they were caught. He had nothing with him to confirm his identity; and they had violated the inner sanctum of a secret cult whose leader was one of the most powerful men in Antioch.

‘I can’t believe you’re in the army,’ Indavara yelled.

‘Shut up and run!’

The streets were quiet; and Cassius knew their pounding footfalls and the cries of their pursuers would soon draw attention. He hoped there were no city sergeants close by.

With his long stride and rangy frame, he’d always been a strong runner, but he was surprised to see the stocky bodyguard match him as they charged along street after street. They headed east, and soon came to the old walls. Cassius slowed. He could hear shouting; but the guards and whoever else had joined them were still some distance away.

‘We mustn’t get trapped against the walls,’ he said. ‘This way.’

He jogged up a curved road they’d been on that very morning while with Bacara. It passed through a gap in the walls and intersected a street parallel to the Avenue of Herod and Tiberius.

They came to a convoy of empty carts emerging from a courtyard and heading up to the avenue. Cassius hurried over to the last cart as it turned on to the road. He hailed the man holding the reins, who brought the vehicle to a stop. Next to him was a lad with an oil lamp on his lap.

‘Which way are you going?’ Cassius demanded.

‘What’s it to you?’

Cassius might have sworn at the man had he not needed his cooperation. He took out two denarii and held them next to the lamp.

‘I’m in need of some transportation. No questions asked.’

‘We’re heading out of the city. Beroea Gate.’

‘Drop us off at the Parmenios River?’

The driver nodded. Shouts sounded from the other side of the walls.

‘They after you?’

Cassius added two more denarii. The lad stared at him in amazement. The driver scooped up the coins.

‘Get in. Lucius, chuck them that cover.’

By the time Cassius and Indavara had hurried round to the back and climbed into the cart, the lad had unfolded a thick square of leather. They grabbed it as the driver got the vehicle under way. The wooden timbers of the cart were filthy with mud but they lay down and pulled the cover over them. Indavara was breathing hard.

‘You’re labouring, bodyguard.’

‘You’re quick. Handy – considering the way you fight.’

‘Shut up.’

‘You’re
really
in the army?’

‘I said shut up.’

Abascantius was busy with other visitors when they arrived the next morning.

The cart-driver had been true to his word and dropped them off at the river; and from there they’d made their way back to the villa where a very concerned Simo let them in. After collapsing into bed, they were woken just three hours later by the Gaul, who had orders from Cassius to do so. He had to see Abascantius without delay.

As they waited in the atrium, two stern young men in togas strode in from the courtyard. Fixing Cassius and Indavara with contemptuous glares, they hurried past them and out the front door. Abascantius came inside. His face was red.

‘Governor Gordio’s men,’ he explained. ‘Warning me off. The operatives I had watching his villa were discovered.’

He waved at the couches. ‘It does seem, however, that we can strike him from our list.’

‘Sir?’ Cassius enquired as they sat down.

‘I suppose I should have remembered, but it was so long ago. During the last Persian invasion – what was it, ten, eleven years ago – Shapur took hundreds of hostages back with him, anyone he found interesting or thought might be useful. One of them was the governor’s brother: an engineer – very talented man. I imagine Gordio had long ago given him up for dead. But with the change of regime, some of these people are being allowed back. This mysterious Persian visitor is a friend of the brother. It seems he might be able to arrange his return.’

‘Ah,’ said Cassius.

Abascantius nodded. ‘But we must tread even more carefully now. The governor is in a rather emotional state. At least they assumed I was simply monitoring things for the Emperor. Gods – if they knew the real reason.’

Cassius wasn’t exactly sure how Abascantius might view the events of the previous evening, but doubted he would characterise them as ‘treading carefully’.

‘Did you learn anything useful last night?’

‘I believe so, sir, yes. But not about Octobrianus.’

As Cassius described what had happened, he once more found himself observing the changing expressions on Abascantius’s face. The agent’s eyes grew wide as he heard about Cassius’s gambit to get them inside the guild house, and when it came to their escape and the fight with the guards, his brow set into a stony frown.

‘You fool,’ he said when Cassius had finished. ‘You young fool.’

‘But, sir, we have learned something of great use—’

‘What? What have we learned?’

‘Ulpian is presiding over a secret sect, the members of which are perfectly placed to transport and sell a large amount of gold and silver secretly. As I said, there was this merchant, then Centurion Turpo to help get it in and out of the city, and Scaurus, and Quarto to ensure—’

‘You speak as if I know nothing of this. Half the army follow Mithras and a good proportion of the wealthy and influential men of this city belong to the Sons of Antioch. I’ll admit I’d thought it was no more than a trade guild, not a cover for a sect, but these meetings have probably been going on for years.’

‘But why so secretive, sir?’

‘All Mithran sects are secretive!’ Abascantius dropped a fist on to the couch, then sighed and shook his head. ‘All right – they may well be up to no good. But I cannot concern myself with that now. This Nabor had a material connection to what we seek; and Octobrianus is the one linked with Nabor, not Ulpian. You were supposed to stay with him.’

‘He was going home, sir, I’m sure of it.’

‘Well, we’ll never know now, will we?’

Abascantius propelled himself to his feet with surprising agility. He ran a thumb and finger down the sides of his mouth.

‘And masquerading as the general’s nephew? By the gods.’

Cassius looked down at the floor.

‘He did actually have a nephew by the way,’ Abascantius continued. ‘Was very fond of him. Boy died of the plague.’

Though he blanched when he heard this, Cassius thought it rather obtuse of Abascantius not to acknowledge what an admirable piece of quick thinking that had been.

‘We’re lucky Quarto’s men aren’t at the door right now,’ added the agent.

‘It was very dark, sir,’ Cassius replied. ‘I don’t think anyone got a good look at us.’

‘Oh, you better hope not,’ snapped Abascantius. ‘Because you’re a pretty memorable pair: a one-eared hard-arse and a well-groomed beanpole who looks like he should still be in school. And Quarto has met you! Some of the others too. Gods, Corbulo, you were supposed to help me solve this problem, not create a new one.’

Abascantius suddenly pointed at Shostra, who was lurking in a corner. ‘Do you know nothing of my mood after all these years? Wine – at once!’

Cassius glanced at Indavara, who shrugged. At that moment, Cassius could quite happily have broken one of Abascantius’s vases over the bodyguard’s head. He summoned some courage.

‘Sir, I’m not sure it’s entirely fair I take all the blame. If Indavara here wasn’t so damned credulous, we might have got out without a fuss. A few conjuror’s tricks and he was shaking like a baby.’

Abascantius walked around the table between the couches and stood over Cassius. He jabbed a finger at Indavara.

‘He gets paid to fight. And it sounds like he did it damn well as usual. You get paid to make decisions. You made a bad one when you elected to follow those men, a very bad one when you elected to go through that gate and an appalling one when you went down into that cave.’

Cassius’s face had grown hot. He could accept that he’d been unwise but he was convinced that what they’d discovered was significant.

‘Sir, I apologise. But I really think we should turn our attention to the general, to Quarto even. He did nothing to help us investigate Nabor, after all.’

Abascantius snatched the large glass of wine from Shostra and took a long swig before replying.

‘Why would he? I already told you we can expect nothing from him. No – we stay with Octobrianus. We’ll keep on him night and day. He’ll slip up sooner or later.’

‘But the general, sir. Ulpian fought the Persians. Surely that’s motive enough to disrupt the treaty. The army – or sections of it – might not wish to see this peace.’

‘And Octobrianus – a man I know has betrayed the Empire before?’

‘His villa is small, modest. He dresses as if he were still a tax collector. He doesn’t strike me as the type to organise a robbery.’

‘And what if he’s still acting for the Palmyrans? This is an investigation, Corbulo. We follow the evidence. The evidence points to Octobrianus.’

Abascantius paced around the room, sipping his wine.

‘What would you like me to do now, sir?’ Cassius asked after a while.

‘At this particular moment, I couldn’t care less. Just stay out of my sight. And stay away from here. The less contact we have, the better.’

‘Sir, I could at least go back to the records office. Look through the files for this two-fingered man.’

‘You can’t get in too much trouble there, I suppose. If I need you, I’ll get in touch. But I meant what I said, Corbulo. If those guards did get a good look at you, these people won’t take long to find you. Stay sharp and stay together.’

Cassius lasted four streets before his frustration got the better of him.

‘Congratulations, I thought you managed to come out of that rather well. It seems a policy of silence can be very effective at times.’

Indavara shrugged. ‘Like he said, I’m just a bodyguard.’

‘Indeed you are. I’ve yet to see a single other string to your bow.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Cassius stopped. ‘Listen – in five days this whole affair will be settled one way or the other. You will be a free man, and I will probably be off to Thessalonica to take up my post as prison governor.’

‘What?’

‘Personally, I would be quite happy for us to go our separate ways right now – I expect you feel the same – but the truth is I could be in real danger after last night. So let’s just see out these few days. We don’t even have to talk to each other, just do our respective jobs and hope to Hades we get out of this city alive. I think I can tolerate your company for that long. Can you tolerate mine?’

Indavara nodded.

‘That’s settled then.’

They continued on towards the villa.

‘What did you mean before?’ Indavara asked after a few moments. ‘Conjuror’s tricks?’