A Bitter Chill (41 page)

“And you were quite happy to let Margarita and Gaius go to the gang, weren’t you? Because Margarita had made it absolutely clear that she preferred Priscus’ advances to yours.”

“I had ways of making her go with me when I wanted,” he said bitterly. “But Priscus could do what he liked with her any time, and she said she loved him. So yes, I admit it—when my lord sent me to negotiate with the kidnappers, I was happy enough to carry out his instructions.”

Quintus moved on to more practical matters. “Where are Otus’ gang holding the two of them now? What do they intend doing with them?”

“I don’t know where they are now, but Otus is going to ship them out of Eburacum and sell them in Londinium or perhaps Glevum, where they’ll fetch a better price. The Skipper will take them on the first part of the journey.”

I heard Candidus gasp, but Quintus went on relentlessly. “When?”

“I don’t know. I had wondered if they might be sailing out with us.” He smiled unpleasantly. “I’d have enjoyed that.”

“You’re sure they aren’t going to be sold at the auction here?” Candidus asked.

He shook his head. “Otus thinks he’ll get a better price for them in the south. Some of the high-class brothels down there will pay a consul’s ransom for a mother and son as attractive as those two. And the Skipper has plenty of contacts, apparently. He takes regular cargoes of slaves down the river.” He glanced at Candidus. “Isn’t that so, Master Decimus?”

“He rescues slave children, and I help him, now we’re partners. But we don’t sell them for profit. He arranges for them to go to good homes, where they’ll be well treated and eventually freed.”

“Oh he does, does he?” The Weasel sneered, and then seemed to recollect that he was talking to the man who could give him freedom, and said more calmly, “Master Candidus, that’s not what he tells his friends at the Wolf’s Head. ‘Sell the best and burn the rest,’ that’s his philosophy when it comes to the slaves.”

“Burn the rest?” Albia repeated, appalled. “What does that mean?”

“After the pretty ones have been sent south to make a fat profit, the less attractive specimens are sold off to the Druids. I don’t think they fetch much money….”

“The Druids are outlawed!” Candidus exclaimed.

“But they still have power with the natives,” Diogenes insisted. “And they still sacrifice children to the old gods at some of their ceremonies. They put them in wicker cages and set fire to them. The children are caught by Otus, and sold by the Skipper, and they both share the proceeds.”

“No!” Candidus protested. “You’re lying, Diogenes.” But he wasn’t, and we all knew it.

“
Merda,
” I said. “So these are your good Christian homes, Candidus? Life in a brothel, or death in a Druid cage?”

“May god forgive me,” Candidus muttered. “I had no idea.” He looked at the Weasel. “Diogenes isn’t the only one to have been betrayed.”

C
HAPTER
XXIX

Titch came back soon after, with a note from the fortress duty commander. Quintus scanned it quickly, and growled, “They can’t spare any men to fetch the deserters in. There’s been some sort of minor riot in town, and they’re having to patrol the streets. Flavius asks if we’ll bring the men to the fortress ourselves.” He stood up. “Well, we can manage that easily enough, I suppose. Rufio and I, and you, Taurus, please. We’ll take Diogenes with us too, and deliver him back to Sempronia. She’s still at Clarilla’s house, I assume?”

“But Master Decimus said he’d free me!” the Weasel objected.

“When my father’s murderer is caught,” Candidus agreed. “Not before. But I’ll come with you, Antonius, and while you see the soldiers safely into custody, I’ll take Diogenes back to Mother and explain what we’ve discovered. I’ll talk to Timaeus too, if he’s there. But if Diogenes has told us the truth, I suspect he’ll have made a run for it.” He sighed. “I ought to see Mother anyway, now that my father’s dead. Whatever differences we had, he was still my father, and I’m still his eldest son. I’ve a duty to arrange the formalities of mourning.”

“All right. What about you two girls?” Quintus looked enquiringly at Albia and me.

“I’m staying here,” Albia said firmly. “They may bring Margarita and Gaius down today.”

“It’s too dangerous, love,” Candidus objected. “You must come with me.”

“There’s no danger if I’m careful. And I want to be here just in case. It’s all right, I’m not planning to rescue them single-handed. But at least I can watch what happens, and make sure they aren’t brought here and then taken away again without our knowing.”

“You’re not doing anything single-handed,” I said, “because I’ll stay here with you till Candidus gets back. As you say, we need to keep an eye on things, and four eyes are better than two.”

“I don’t like it,” Quintus said doubtfully. “You shouldn’t be alone here without a man to protect you. If the Skipper comes, anything could happen. Leave with us now, and we’ll all come back together later.”

“Nonsense, Quintus. Albia and I will be fine. You’ve got the difficult job, getting the prisoners safely into the fortress in the middle of a riot. All we have to do is sit quietly and wait.”

He shook his head. “What if some of the gang come here? No, it’s too risky.”

“I’ll stay, shall I?” Titch offered. “I’ll keep them safe. And if Gaius shows up, I want to be here to look after him too.”

This solution satisfied us all, and I was glad of Titch’s company, especially after the men had all gone. It seemed unnaturally quiet, and Albia and I were unsettled and jumpy, listening for unfamiliar noises. But Titch was cheerful and reassuring, and when Nasua offered to run into town to fetch some fresh bread and pastries, we all realised we were hungry.

I suppose people of a romantic turn of mind would say the warehouse’s surroundings were pretty, with the river sparkling in the bright midday sun, reflecting the blue of the sky. Birds flew in and out of the reeds, and the tide was coming in fast now, so the water level was high enough to conceal the ugly mud close to the bank. Behind the house the fields were dotted with trees, including a couple of holly-bushes to remind us of our Saturnalia decorations at home. But to me, the remoteness seemed threatening rather than relaxing, and the cold was still biting. We didn’t linger long to admire the scenery, but went indoors, leaving Titch outside as our sentry.

We’d hardly had time to sit down comfortably when he came running in. “Miss Albia, I’ve heard funny noises coming from the boat. I think there’s someone inside it.”

“On the boat?” She shook her head. “No, there’s nobody there. We’d have seen them.”

“Mebbe we wouldn’t if they’re in the cargo space, under that big leather cover. There’s room for a few folk to sit or lie hidden there. Not very comfortable, mind.”

I asked, “What sort of noises did you hear?”

“Like a girl’s voice, but sort of muffled, and I couldn’t make out the words. Could be she’s gagged, trying to shout out.”

“Most likely a bird,” I suggested. “A gull or something?”

“I don’t reckon so. But come and listen for yourselves.”

“Candidus told me there was nobody there last night,” Albia said thoughtfully. “But someone could have loaded a small number of people aboard this morning early, after he left. I wouldn’t have seen them from here in the house.” She jumped to her feet. “Could it be—you don’t think—oh, let’s go and look! If there’s anyone there, we must get the poor things out straight away.”

“Wait, Albia. It could be a trap. We need something to defend ourselves.”

“I’ve got the axe,” Titch said, “and I found a couple of spears outside. Old army issue. I don’t know why they’re here, but they’ll do for you two ladies.”

Albia and I collected one each as we went out. They were long and unwieldy, but heavy and comforting, and they’d do at a pinch.

We stood on the bank and looked at the boat. The tide was still coming in fast, and the
Albia
now floated level with the wooden gangway, rocking very slightly at its moorings. There wasn’t a sign of life on it. I called out, “Hello, is anyone on the boat? Margarita? Gaius? It’s Aurelia and Albia and Victor, come to get you out.”

I thought I saw a tiny stir of movement under the heavy cover, but there was no sound.

“It’s me, Aurelia. I promise you’re safe.”

“And me, Albia. We’re going to come onto the boat and get you. Margarita? Are you there?”

“Mmm,” came a female voice, muffled and wordless.

“Margarita? Answer if it’s you.”

“Mmm.”

“Brilliant!” Titch exclaimed. “Have you got Gaius there too?”

“Mmm.”

“You sound as if they’ve gagged you,” Albia said.

“Mmm.”

I called, “Don’t worry any more. Albia and I are coming to get you free. Titch will go and fetch help.”

“I can’t do that!” he protested. “I can’t leave you here alone.”

“You must. The Skipper will be coming soon, ready to take them away. But he won’t sail on this rising tide, so we’ve got—I don’t know, two hours, maybe three, before he can leave. I want plenty of help here by then. Find Quintus or Rufus at the fortress if you can, or Candidus—he’ll be at Clarilla’s house. Priscus too, if he’s turned up there. Preferably all of them. Hurry!”

“But I’ve got to stay. Master Quintus would never forgive me if I didn’t….”

“Victor,
I’m
giving the orders now, and this is an order. As my father used to say, stop talking and start doing. Straight away, please.”

He gave me a salute and a grin. “Yes,
sir!
And I’ll be as quick as I can.” He set off at a run
.

We hefted our spears and walked out along the plank jetty, which was now almost under water. This was going to be an exceptionally high tide, with the river already fuller than usual because of melting snow. Typical of the Skipper’s badly built gangway, I thought, that anyone boarding his boat at a very high tide would get their feet wet. As we went we talked to the prisoners, telling them we were coming, reassuring them that they’d soon be free. We stepped onto the raised stern deck, and together bent and unfastened the heavy leather sheet that stretched over the whole central area, where the cargo would usually be stowed.

Margarita and Gaius lay huddled in the bottom of the boat on a pile of straw. They were tied hand and foot, and gagged with strips of cloth. We hugged them both tight, and then used our daggers to cut away the gags.

“Aurelia, Albia, thank you! Oh thank you….” Margarita was incoherent with relief. Gaius lay silently, staring at us with huge, scared eyes.

“You’re safe now. We’ll soon have you ashore.” Albia and I began to cut the ropes that tied them, while Margarita thanked us over and over, and we all tried to reassure Gaius, who remained as still as a statue. Freeing them was slow work, because the tight bonds had cut into their flesh, and the last thing we wanted was to hurt them. And our excited chatter stopped dead when we all clearly heard the howl of a wolf on the bank.

“Oh no,” Margarita whispered. “Otus and his men!”

“Or the Skipper.” My mind raced. “Who brought you here to the boat, Margarita? Was it Otus?”

“Yes. At dawn. Now he’s come back for us.” She began to shiver, and there were tears in her eyes.

“No, I think it’s his brother who’s coming. And he may not know for sure that Otus has brought you yet. You must stay out of sight in the boat, and we’ll tell them you aren’t here. We just have to keep them talking until help comes.”

“No! Please, don’t leave us!”

“You’ll be absolutely safe. We can hold them off for long enough. It’s easy to stop anyone coming across that flimsy plank gangway. We can do it, can’t we, Albia?”

“Yes, we’ll do it. Now let’s get this cover back in place….”

“No! We’re not staying here on our own again. We’ll jump in the river, try to swim for it. Anything’s better than sitting waiting for them.” She stood up unsteadily, and reached down a hand to pull Gaius to his feet.

My heart sank. If we couldn’t hide them, we were all done for.

Albia said briskly, “Swim for it? What nonsense! That’s really doing it the hard way. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll stay in the boat with you, while Relia goes and talks to them. I’ve got a spear, look, and my dagger. You’ll be all right if I’m here, won’t you?”

“Well, I suppose so. Will you, Albia? Otherwise I can’t face it!”

“We’ll face it together.” Albia looked at me. “All right, Relia?”

Hardly how I’d have described it, but I took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll tell them the whole place is deserted, except for me. I can keep them talking till Titch brings us reinforcements. I’m a good talker. Ask Albia.”

“But you’ll never stop those men all by yourself!” Margarita wailed.

“Yes I will. I’ll stay on the gangway, so they can’t touch me or come past me to the boat. I’ve got a spear, and my father taught me how to use it. Now hurry, let’s get you hidden.”

“She’ll be like Horatius Cocles,” Albia added, “guarding the bridge across the Tiber to save Rome. Remember the old story? He held back a whole army.”

Horatius had been a hero of ours when we were children, and in a quick flash of memory I saw the three of us re-enacting his heroic victory in our games. Well, now I’d be doing it in earnest. It was a desperate plan, but it was the only plan available.

“Crouch down with me in the straw,” Albia was saying cheerfully. “You too, Gaius. Relia will hide us. We’re the secret reserves, here to help if we’re needed. But we won’t be.”

I was proud of my sister, so brave, so outwardly confident. The least I could do was match her courage and her air of assurance. “Just stay quiet. Albia, if I have to fall back, I’ll signal to give you as much warning as I can.” I deliberately used military jargon, because that’s what we’d done in our childhood games. Anyway it sounded better than, “I’ll yell if I can’t hold them off, and you’re on your own.” I stooped and pulled the cover into place, but didn’t fasten it. “Don’t worry now. Help will be here any time.”

There was nobody in sight as I walked gingerly towards the bank, using my upended spear as a staff, because the planking was completely under water now. It felt slippery and treacherous, the cold river lapping round my feet, and I was glad to reach solid ground.