The Mammoth Book of Roman Whodunnits (45 page)

Well, better men than he had come to grief from questioning why. It was better to get on with the job. And now this. The matter of the dead man had to be resolved fast. Not just because he had to show strength and make his mark within the camp but also because of his special orders, due to be opened in three days’ time.

Faustinius was a merchant, so greed was a likely motive. Or perhaps he’d double-crossed someone and this was their revenge. A reward might yield up a name, but it could also be used for settling a grudge so he decided not to post one. He regretted he’d not had the opportunity to meet Faustinius himself, but the man had been travelling on business until last night.

He saw that he was almost back at headquarters at the
centre of the fort and the good humour left his face. Now he’d have to deal with Lucan, his second in command. The boy’s patrician family was closer to the Emperor than his own and he clearly thought he was above “playing soldiers” as he called it, serving out his time till his recall to the Senate. Well, they were a long way from Rome here and it was he, Julius, who was in charge.

Lucan was lounging in Julius’s chair and moved languidly out of the way, yawning. “I hear old Faustinius has breathed his last, a matter for rejoicing I’d say. His prices were scandalous and he didn’t let any competition near the fort. He also leaves a lovely widow.”

Julius raised a neutral eyebrow. “On the take, was he? I didn’t read that in any of the reports.”

The young man flushed pink. His skin was baby smooth, his hair fair and silky. “I didn’t write those reports, did I?”

“I haven’t been able to find fault with the inventory and our stores are fully stocked – not even a case of all left sandals and no right ones. I’m told he was responsible for fulfilling the army’s orders. Did you deal with him personally?”

“Me? Hardly.” The boy flushed even more and Julius pressed him harder.

“But you knew his wife.”

“You could hardly miss her. There’s not a man in Isca who hasn’t a soft spot for Sahia. It’s true I met her socially – not the sort of parties I’d normally attend, but life can be pretty dull here – but that’s as far as it went. We were friends.”

“Then you’d better come with me to offer our sympathies and to find out more. Maybe the grieving widow will confide in you, her friend.”

Together with a detail of soldiers and slaves they left the fort and went among the houses that lay just outside. Lucan led the way to a small, neat home in the style of a Roman villa
and built of the highest quality materials. Faustinius’s widow, Sahia, had clearly been an exquisitely beautiful young woman. Even though she was becoming fat, her features blurring, the beauty was still there. Lucan had told him she was a freed slave from Egypt whom the merchant had subsequently married and they had three surviving children. Her distress seemed genuine to Julius.

“My Fausti was good man. He was strong, take good care of his family, he don’t look at other women. What will we do without him?” She broke down, weeping again. Rings flashed on her fingers, Silurian gold bracelets covered her wrists.

“Look at this.” Julius held out the ring taken from the severed arm. “Can you confirm this was your husband’s?” He had not told her yet that the body was not intact and hoped gossip would spare her that knowledge until the rest of it had been found.

She uncovered her dark lustrous eyes, nodded, then broke into fresh tears. “He chose the eagle because it soars so high. Such a powerful bird. Oh, I want to kiss him farewell. When can I –”

“Later,” Julius said firmly. “When we have carried out our official duties. Tell me again about what happened since his return.”

His question distracted her. “He came home last night – such high spirits, so many presents for me and the children. He said the ships bring many good things and give him good prices. Oh, such a reunion . . .” She sighed, recollected herself. “He left me early this morning – very busy, he said, so much to do.”

Of course, Julius thought, the merchant would be delighted with the extra orders of shoes, weaponry, and uniforms that he, Julius, had placed to be ready for whatever his secret orders might be. “Did he tell you he was going for a swim at the bathhouse?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No. My Fausti did not swim. He went to the baths, yes, but at the end of the day to talk to his friends, or sometimes lunchtime. Is that where –?”

“Sahia, think carefully, did he say if he was going to meet someone? Did he talk about any enemies he had?” Lucan asked.

She held out her hands to him and he took them, then she shook her head and closed her eyes, overcome by a great weariness. The ritual wailing of the slaves filled the sudden quiet.

“We have to search your house,” Lucan said. “Do we have your permission? We may find helpful information in your husband’s papers and records.” When she’d given her assent Lucan added under his breath to Julius, “No doubt we’ll find some sordid secret or evidence of his cheating ways.”

“I would not have been able to restrain myself,” Modestina declared. “You’ve such self-control, Julius.”

“It was difficult when I felt like punching his snooty little face, but there are plenty of enemies around without having them among my officers as well.”

“Enemies a-plenty there too at times – here, try this honeycake. These local bees make wonderful honey.”

They were eating lunch together, enjoying the breeze as it had become a hot sunny day again. Julius had told his wife that he felt satisfied that he’d inspected and investigated every inch of Isca Fort and its personnel. “I don’t like to speak ill of my predecessor but he was too easy-going for my taste. Repairs not done, training and exercise schedules not kept to. At least the barracks’ supplies of tunics, sandals, and arms are all up to date, thanks to the dead man, Faustinius.”

“So you don’t think he was fiddling the inventory?”

“Not that I could see.” They had brought their own slaves and servants with them and felt confident enough of their
loyalty to speak openly in front of them as they served wine and food. “Nor is there any sign of the rest of his body. The bathhouse and now the entire fort has been thoroughly searched.”

“It amazes me that there wasn’t a great pool of blood.”

“He was killed somewhere else, but for some obscure reason only the arm was hidden in the underground heating system.”

“Unless the whole body was brought and he or they didn’t have time to hide it all. But then surely someone would have seen it being carried? It was light very early today.”

“And only a few hours of darkness, with it being the longest day of the year.” Julius shook his head. “I’ve asked Centurion Brutus to find out if any of the guards were bribed to silence.” He finished his wine and stood up. “Prince Ceryth of the Silures is arriving in only a few hours’ time for our first meeting. Bad timing for me.”

“The banquet preparations are complete.”

“I’ve decided I will tell him but will make light of it – better that than his hearing exaggerated rumours. The last thing we need is for him to sense weakness here.”

Unspoken between them lay the matter of his secret orders from Emperor Hadrian.

Antheses hummed happily to himself as he made his way to Faustinius’s villa. He’d made himself wait until the coast was clear of Legates, Centurions and other officials but could contain himself no longer. He pressed his hand against his belt pouch – yes, the ring was still there. It’d been easy to slip into the Legate’s office while he was out and palm it while pretending he’d been called for an interview.

The evening sun was casting long shadows. This morning’s excitement had died down, though he couldn’t say the normal lazy rhythm had been restored to Isca. This new
Legate was a stickler for drill and exercise, as well as cleaning and repairing. The soldiers were grumbling twice as much as usual. Antheses was suspicious about his sudden arrival. The Emperor would hardly send someone just to improve the housekeeping. Still, he wasn’t complaining, extra work meant extra denarii.

He didn’t waste time trying to enter at the front door but went round to the slaves’ quarters. Robinia was busy, bending over a vat of washing. He grabbed her from behind and she gave a satisfying squeal, then slapped his arm good-humouredly.

“Creeping up behind me like that – you nearly made my soul leave my body.” Robinia had been captured from the Silurians and enslaved when a baby and had now converted to a peculiar new religion called Christians. She often came out with strange phrases and Antheses played along with her. “Such a terrible day,” she sighed now. “He was a good master, as masters go – though I only have one true Master”

“And a wily old devil when it came to business,” Antheses interrupted her, not wanting another lecture on her religion. “Did they tell you it was me who found him or, rather,” he lowered his voice and told her in juicy detail of his discovery. She covered her mouth in horror then made the sign of the cross.

“My poor mistress, how can she bear it?”

“She doesn’t know the full story yet. And you can help her – I’ve brought her a memento from him that might cheer her up. Do you think you could get me in to see her? It won’t be the first time I’ve carried messages from Faustinius to her.”

Robinia’s face brightened. “Oh, if only you could lift her load a little. I’ll see what I can do.” She gave him a sisterly hug.

Sahia was lying on a couch, eyelids and lips swollen from
weeping. The light had left her dark eyes and she could barely lift her head.

“What is it, Antheses?”

He still thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I bring you my deepest sympathy, lady, and a gift.”

She heaved a sigh. “You were a good friend to Fausti. He often said so. What is the gift?”

Antheses rolled his eyes and she understood, gesturing for the slaves to leave the room. She forced herself upright. He held out his hand, the ring lying in his palm. Her expression softened.

“His favourite ring.” She lifted it up. “Garnet stone with an eagle in full flight and our initials carved on the gold. I identified it yesterday Antheses, I know he was not – whole. Who could do such a thing?”

“Faustinius was a powerful man,” Antheses jumped in quickly before the tears started again. “Other men were jealous. He confided in me, you know.” He leaned forwards. “There is another package, yes? I expected there to be one more today.”

“Another package?” Sahia was wary.

“Yes – you know the sort, looks like an amphora of olive oil buried in straw, but underneath – well, let’s just say, special goods. Let me act as your husband’s courier once more. You don’t want that stuff lying about in case they come back and search your house again. I don’t want you getting any awkward questions. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“My husband told me you’d been helpful, but not in what way. Sahi, he used to say, you leave the business to me. I take care of you. He was true paterfamilias. But I know he had a special consignment of oil in his office. He said it was a gift – to oil the wheels, he said. But you say it’s not oil. Maybe I should look.”

“Of course, lady, it’s yours – look all you like. Only I’d worry for you. Might be safer to do as Faustinius said and stay ignorant. For the sake of the children. Not that he was up to anything wrong, but you know what these Roman laws are like – anything to send back money to Rome. I say we should keep some of it here. Leave it to me, and I’ll make sure there’s some more of that,” he nodded at the ring, “to come your way.”

She closed her hand on the ring and held it to her heart. “Thank you, Antheses. You only want to help me. I will tell Robinia to have the package transported to your house as a reward for bringing me this ring. And Antheses – there will be more rewards if you find his killer.”

Antheses’ blood stirred at the sudden fire in her eyes. He was bowing low to take his leave when they were startled by shouts and hoofbeats in the street outside.

Huge flies buzzed over the round boat constructed of woven willow laths and tanned animal skin which had been drawn up on the shingle strand. Julius heard their buzzing before he saw them and so prepared himself for the stench.

“Who found the coracle?” he asked.

Lucan looked at Centurion Brutus, who replied, “Silurian fishermen, sir. It was a good mile downstream, caught up on some branches.”

Julius approached cautiously. One glance inside was enough to reveal the rest of Faustinius, further dismembered and drained of colour. His head was covered by a cloth.

“Fishermen covered him up. Said his eyes were staring.” Julius glanced at the Silurian fishermen who were watching intently. Their flowing hair and moustaches and rough tunics or trousers were no longer strange to him after his meeting with their leader, Ceryth.

“Have you looked? Is it definitely Faustinius?”

“Yes, sir,” Brutus said. “I identified him myself.”

“Arrange to have this transported to join his arm at the hospital, will you, and I want the surgeon to tell me how he actually died, if he can. If he was dead before these cuts, as we must hope.”

“Sir – in my opinion his throat was cut and his blood drained. Look how pale he is. His blood was taken from him.”

Stillness settled over the riverbank. Even the horses became motionless. Brutus had said something very significant, but Julius did not know what, so he decided it would be safer to overlook it for now.

Stepping forwards he spoke through an interpreter, thanking the Silurians for bringing the body to Isca. They were not hostile, yet they seemed stirred up by something, and spoke amongst themselves in their strange lilting tongue.

“They say they are not to blame. They want your assurance you will tell Prince Ceryth they did not do this.”

“You may give them my assurance.”

As they walked away from the river Julius said, “Well, Lucan, what was that all about?”

“It’s said that that is the way their priests – wild men called Druids – carry out their sacrifices. Others say that they never made human sacrifice but only worshipped trees and rivers.”

“And what do you say?”

Lucan shrugged. “I’ve never come across one. In fact, I thought they’d all disappeared up north to some little island called Mona since we outlawed the region.”