Buried Too Deep (14 page)

“The Governor’s advisers never do anything simply if they can introduce a complication or two. They decided to let the
Sea Horse
go as intended but minus cargo, and act as bait to attract any pirates along its route north. The plan was that if raiders tried to capture it, our men on board, plus the warship that was escorting it, would be able to capture
then
.”

“Some plan!”

He shrugged. “I never said it was a good plan. One of the Governor’s new young men dreamed it up. He’s fresh over here from Rome, and as green as a lettuce leaf.”

“So the shipment of gold wasn’t so much a secret as a lie.”

“Exactly so. Our agents further up the coast spread a few choice rumours about the value of it. The gods know if they did any good.”

“But why add such a horrible touch, including that head in the box? That was done in Londinium too, presumably?”

He nodded. “It was meant to be horrible. If the boat eventually made it to Caledonia, we wanted to teach the chieftain a lesson. The head belonged to someone he knew, one of our men in Londinium who’d turned traitor.”

“A
traitor?
Are you sure?”

“No doubt about it. His name was Rollus, and he’d been involved in the negotiations with the Caledonians, and switched sides. We found out he’d been encouraging his new master to take our money and run. What’s the matter, Aurelia? You’ve gone as white as marble.”

“Nothing. Just the thought of that head, the way we found it in the basket.” But my mind was in turmoil. So the long-lost brother Rollus was a traitor! It wasn’t a family connection to be desired, even though it was Rollus who had sought out Lucius and made all the running, not the other way round. But how many people knew that Lucius and Rollus had become friends? If Lucius had only told the immediate family, we could keep it secret. But then if we did, and it was discovered later, that would make us look like traitors too.

“Something’s wrong,” Quintus said gently. “Why not tell me? Whatever it is, I’ll help if I can, you know that.” He slid his arm round me. I wanted desperately to confide in him, and perhaps indeed he could help us. But should I reveal our secret to him without asking Lucius first?

“It’s difficult, Quintus. I don’t know.”

“It’s about the head that was in the boat, isn’t it? You know who he was. Otherwise why would it matter if he was a traitor?”

“Yes. The trouble is it’s a secret. I don’t just mean officially, I mean it’s private Aurelius family business. So if I tell you, you’ll be discreet?”

”I’ll spread it all over Brigantia, of course.”

So I told him. I expected he might be shocked, or at least surprised, but he was excited, and made me report everything Lucius had told us about Rollus. I left nothing out, and as I saw his growing interest, I became more and more worried about how the situation might be misunderstood.

“Quintus, you’ve got to understand Lucius was only interested in a possible family connection with the man, not in his work. He’d no idea about any treachery…”

“Of course he hadn’t. Lucius is in no danger, his loyalty’s well enough established. But he may have met some of Rollus’ contacts and be able to lead us to other men who are working against Rome. This could be a real breakthrough. As for his not knowing about the treachery, I think we’ll find he did know.”

“No, Quintus, he didn’t. I can swear to that.”

“But he did, Aurelia! He knew, or suspected, right from the start.” His purple-blue eyes were full of mischief. “He was investigating Rollus, playing along with him in order to find out exactly what he was up to. And the sooner he realises that’s what he was doing, the better.”

Relief flooded into me. Of course, the obvious solution, the answer to any accusations, should they happen. I hugged Quintus, but he pulled gently away from me and stood up.

“This makes it more urgent than ever that I talk to him.” He glanced through the open window, assessing the height of the sun. “If I leave now on a fast horse, I can get a good part of the way to the coast by dark, say as far as Albia’s. Then tomorrow morning early I can see Lucius.”

My heart sank. We’d had such a short time together, I couldn’t bear the thought of it ending so soon. “I haven’t any fast horses available. And even if I had, the wold country’s not a safe area to be riding through towards the end of the day when the roads are deserted.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“So you say. But if you’re wrong, I can’t afford to lose a fast horse.”

I saw the beginnings of a smile. “You don’t think I should go then?”

“Quintus Antonius Delfinus, if you go away again today, it’ll be over my dead body.”

He sat down again, smiling as he picked up his wine-mug. “On second thoughts, I ought not to miss Rollus’ funeral.”

“Gods, the funeral! Shouldn’t I cancel it, now I know who—I mean
what
—Rollus really was?”

“Cancelling it at such short notice would cause too much comment. Let it go ahead as you’ve planned it. After all, traitor or not, the man was still your half-brother.”

So Rollus got a more dignified send-off than he deserved, and for the rest of the evening Quintus and I forgot about him altogether.

Chapter XIV

Next morning we breakfasted in my private sitting-room, but after that we both knew play-time was over. I looked into the kitchen to check that everything was running smoothly. It was, except that Cook was moaning because too many of the spring cabbages were being eaten by caterpillars. I suggested he should invent a way of cooking the caterpillars themselves, but he didn’t see the joke.

Margarita smiled at me. “Don’t expect any sensible culinary suggestions from Aurelia this morning, Cook. She’s got other things on her mind.”

“Of course I have, very important things. I’m visiting our esteemed Chief Councillor later on, aren’t I?”

I found Quintus near the big paddock in earnest conversation with Secundus. “I’ve just been hearing about young Victor. I didn’t know he’d been discharged. And I didn’t know he’d come home.”

“Come home? I didn’t know either.” I turned to Secundus. “When did he arrive? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He arrived yesterday very late, while you were holding that funeral ceremony. Margarita said you weren’t to be disturbed.”

I felt a pang of guilt, but only a small one. “How is he?”

“They’ve patched him up pretty well. He can ride all right without using the fingers of his left hand, although he says it’s more tiring that way. But he’s up and about now, and I reckon he’ll be glad you’re here, Quintus Antonius. He always had a lot of time for you. Mebbe you can help cheer the poor lad up. Try and make him see that having to leave the cavalry isn’t the end of everything, which he thinks it is.”

“Maybe I can, at that.” Quintus looked thoughtful. “Yes, maybe I can.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

Secundus nodded towards the next paddock. “He’s in there, looking over the horses and mules. There’s quite a lot of new stock since he was last home. He was quite taken with yon flashy white one of yours,” he said to Quintus.

“So I should hope! It’ll need regular exercise, of course. If Victor has time to spare, I’d appreciate it if he’d take him out for me later.”

Secundus smiled. “I’ll tell him.”

“ I’d like a chance to talk to him, but without making a big thing of it. Aurelia and I have to go into Oak Bridges this morning to see Silvanius Clarus. Could Victor drive us in a raeda?”

I wondered what Quintus was up to. Last night he’d been talking about leaving to see Lucius urgently. Now he’d just invited himself to my meeting with Clarus.

But Secundus’ smile broadened. “I don’t know. Let’s ask him.” He put two fingers into his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, and then called, “Victor! Someone to see you here!”

Titch came walking across the paddock, and I hardly recognised him. His body was much the same, compact and lithe, and his left hand was out of sight, tucked away under his tunic. But his face was quite changed. He still had bright red hair and ears that stuck out, but instead of the alert eyes and the cheeky grin that we were all used to, there was a sullen stillness about him. He strolled over to us slowly, looking down, and when he did raise his eyes, they had no sparkle in them.

“Hello, Victor,” I said. “Your dad’s told me they’ve discharged you. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said dully.

Quintus held out his hand. “Victor, it’s good to see you. You’re something of a hero, I gather. We’re all proud of you.”

They shook hands, and Titch grunted, “Some hero, falling off me horse and getting me arm broke! And I’m finished as a soldier now. Finished altogether, if you want the truth.”

“No you’re not.” It was my instinctive reply, meant to comfort him, but I should have known such facile words would only upset him more.

“No? Then what do you reckon I’m good for? You going to give me a job here, are you?”

“Yes, I am. There’ll always be a job here for you, Victor, if you want it.”

That at least made him look me directly in the face. “That’s good of you, Mistress Aurelia. Thank you. But…”

Quintus finished the sentence for him. “Being a stable-hand at a mansio isn’t what you want, is it?”

He shook his head. “I want to be a soldier. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of, ever since I was a bairn. When I was accepted for the cavalry, it was like me dreams had all come true. And when we went into battle, I felt it was where I should be. I could make a difference somehow, fight for the Empire, show the barbarians what it means to be a Roman.” He was animated now, and we saw the familiar, lively, determined character we’d all liked so much. But the animation died as he added, “Now I’ve got nothing left to live for. I wish the barbarians had killed me, along with me mates.”

Quintus said gently. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’re lucky to be alive, lad.”

“Oh aye? And what would you know about it? You’ve got a job you like, a good job that’s worth summat.” Suddenly he was tense, furious, as if he needed anger to give him strength. “And don’t call me ‘lad’! Don’t you ever call me that again! I’m a man, and I’ll not have anyone treating me like a boy.”

“He didn’t mean…” I began, but Quintus waved me quiet.

“Calm down, Victor, and don’t take offence where there’s none intended. You’re not a boy, I know that. You’re one of the brightest young men I’ve come across lately. And you can still fight for the Empire, if it’s what you want to do, only in a different way.”

“I don’t see how.”

“I’ll tell you, but this isn’t the time. Look, Aurelia and I have to go into Oak Bridges this morning to see Councillor Silvanius, and we need a driver. Your dad says the horse-boys here have their hands full. Are you too grand to drive a carriage these days?”

“Me? Why, no, I suppose not. But I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. The question is, will you? As a favour to us?”

“Well…” He hesitated, then shook his head and dropped his gaze. “No, I reckon I need a day or two before I’m ready to face folk. You’d best find someone else.”

“Why? You’ve come home a hero. A man who saved his squadron’s standard from capture. That’s what people round here think. The sooner they see you in person, the better. Face them now, that’s my advice.”

“I don’t need your advice, thanks all the same. I wish you and everyone else would stop telling me what to do. Nobody knows what it’s like for me.”

“I do,” Quintus answered steadily. “I know very well.”

Victor looked up in surprise. “How’s that?”

“Why do you think I left the army? I was an officer when your father was serving in Germania, you know that. I was an engineer, I specialised in designing and building bridges. I loved the work, and thought it was what I wanted to do for my whole life. But I was injured one day, not in battle, but falling from some scaffolding. I hurt my back so badly I could hardly stand for a while. It got a little better after a few months, but it was still painful, and the doctors said I’d never be able to ride any distance again. So eventually I was discharged.” He paused and flexed his shoulders. “They were wrong, as it happened, but it took me a year to find a doctor who could really help me. He put me on a regime of exercises and diet to get my full strength back. By that time I’d—well, I’d joined a different kind of service, which I preferred. And still do.”

“I never knew,” Titch said. “Is your back all right now?”

“It is, except for the occasional twinge in wet weather. But most old soldiers have a few aches and pains, don’t they?”

“Well then, you know the way their minds work in the army, when you’re hurt but they still want to keep you on.”

“Did they offer you some sort of desk job?”

“They offered, but they could see I’m not interested in pushing a stylus around. Horses are what I like.”

“So then—let me guess—they suggested you could move into the transport section. Supplies, was it?”

Victor smiled without humour. “Transport Officer, they called it, which sounds grand enough, but in plain Latin it’s just playing nursemaid to a load of brainless mules and even more brainless drivers. Bringing supplies up from base to the battle area, riding up and down, up and down, safe behind the lines while other men do the fighting, and getting shouted at by the quartermasters because you’ve brought everything except what they want! I couldn’t have stood that, and to be fair, they didn’t push it.”

“Good, because I think you’re worth something more. But we’ve really got to get moving. If you don’t want to drive us today, that’s all right. Secundus, could you spare one of the other lads please? We mustn’t be late for our meeting with the Chief Councillor. You know what he’s like.”

The meeting wasn’t at a fixed hour, and I opened my mouth to say so, but fortunately realised in time what Quintus was doing, and held my peace.

Secundus nodded. “Of course. I’ll get Malchus to harness up for you.”

“There’s no need,” Titch said. “I’ll do it, if you’re stuck. Only if I make a mess of it, don’t complain.”

“If you can’t handle a couple of mules, then I’m the Queen of Brigantia.”

He brightened a little. “There was a tavern girl in Eburacum used to use that expression. It reminded me of you whenever I heard it. I mean…no offence, like.”

“None taken. As long as she was pretty, of course.”

“She was that all right.”

“We haven’t got time for the story of your love life, Titch—er—Victor,” Quintus grinned. “We’ll be ready as soon as you’ve harnessed up.”

The lad actually smiled. “You know, in the squadron I couldn’t get me mates to call me Victor, any more than folk here. It was always Titch. So I don’t mind if you want to call me Titch as well.”

We didn’t wait to watch how easily Titch managed to prepare the carriage and mules, but his driving was as good as ever, and the journey to Silvanius’ villa was uneventful. As we trotted through the centre of Oak Bridges we passed various acquaintances and gave them a wave or a few words, and Titch received as many greetings as we did. He answered them barely politely at first, but then it must have begun to dawn on him how many friends he had who were pleased to see him, and he visibly relaxed.

We trotted up the long drive that led to Silvanius’ huge villa. The gardens on either side were bright with spring flowers and new leaves, and as we came near the house we could hear noises of hammering and sawing. Quintus exclaimed, “By the gods, this place gets bigger every time I come. Is that another wing of rooms he’s adding at the back?”

“He’s re-designing his bath house,” I said. “He says it isn’t big enough. He must be expecting to entertain several cohorts of visitors at once.”

“Mebbe his guests are just very dirty,” Titch suggested, and I didn’t have the heart to rebuke his impudence. It was so good to see his cheeky smile, and the way he held his head high as he led the raeda off to the stables.

Chief Councillor Publius Silvanius Clarus was waiting for us in his library. It was a big room, like all the public rooms in his villa, and pleasant in the mornings, when a large open window let in the sunshine. Most of the other three walls were covered in book-pockets, each containing several scrolls neatly rolled and labelled. Clarus prided himself on owning all the books a Roman gentleman should possess. I’d never seen him reading any of them, but then many Roman gentlemen take the view that actually perusing a library’s contents isn’t essential.

Being Roman had always been very important to Clarus. He was unswervingly loyal to the Empire, and he was a citizen, as Roman in his ways as any patrician with ancestors who were present at the foundation of the Republic. Yet he was born in Britannia of one of the old native aristocratic families, and he was a typical Briton in appearance, tall, square, and fair. He was about fifty, with traces of white showing in his hair, but he was as vigorous as ever, a man of power in Oak Bridges, physically and politically. Of course he was wearing his toga, even for this informal meeting. He delighted in proclaiming his Roman-ness in every way he could.

As we came in he was dictating to a secretary, but he broke off and welcomed us with his usual mixture of warmth and pomposity. “Aurelia, my dear, thank you so much for coming. It’s always such a delight to entertain you in my humble abode. And Quintus Antonius, what a pleasant surprise. You are indeed welcome. I think you may very well be able to help with the matter that concerns us today.” He turned to his slave. “Ask my sister to join us, and then get on with making fair copies of those letters. I want them sent out today.”

“I hope you don’t mind my coming with Aurelia,” Quintus said. “I only arrived in Oak Bridges yesterday, and when she said that she was visiting you, I couldn’t resist the chance to come too. I’m afraid it’s not quite the done thing, but we’re old friends.”

“I should have been mortified if you hadn’t come,” Silvanius smiled. They began exchanging small-talk, while I gazed out of the window at the garden. I knew Clarus would be pleased to see Quintus, not only because he’d helped the Chief Councillor in the past, but because of Quintus’ important government connections, which made him exactly the kind of friend Silvanius liked to receive.

His sister Clarilla came in, smart and well-groomed as always. She was wearing a fashionable pale blue tunic secured with fine silver brooches, and her fair hair was piled up on her head in a style I hadn’t seen before, under a silvery net studded with small blue stones. She greeted me and Quintus affectionately.

“I wish I’d known you were coming, Quintus Antonius. I’d have organised a dinner party for you. Are you staying long at the Oak Tree?”

“No, unfortunately, just a day or two. I have to go over to the coast to see Aurelia’s brother.”

“Ah, the coast.” Clarus said. “I heard that Lucius is pursuing these wretched pirates. More power to him. I’m told the situation in those parts is deteriorating rapidly.”

Clarus’ stately major-domo brought in refreshments. Clarilla kept the best table in the district, as well as the most lavish. We drank our white wine from silver goblets, and the food arrived on silver platters: a selection of mouth-watering pastries, and some pears in spiced syrup served in individual silver bowls.

While we ate, we exchanged news. When our hosts heard about the attack on Albia’s farm they were both horrified, and I had to reassure them several times that my sister and the children hadn’t been harmed, just very frightened.