The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (38 page)

Cassius looked around for somewhere clean to place his satchel and cape. There was nowhere, so he dumped them on the bed.

‘How’s that going, by the way?’

‘More arrests and the court are writing up charges. Apparently Pomponianus is keen to hurry things along.’

‘Successful prosecutions before the election?’

Cosmas nodded as he tightened his belt. ‘I can be back by the ninth hour. That all right?’

‘It’ll have to be.’

‘If we decide to keep this up, I can hire someone reliable to keep an eye on the place.’

‘Good,’ said Cassius.

Indavara had noticed the plate lying on the floor. ‘How’s the food?’

‘Don’t ask.’

‘Tell the owner to bring in another chair,’ said Cassius.

‘Will do,’ replied Cosmas as he left.

‘Shall I take first watch?’ offered Indavara.

‘If you like.’ Cassius looked around again and wrinkled his nose at the smell of mould. ‘Ah, the glamour of life with Imperial Security.’

Indavara pulled the chair forward to improve his view. ‘Still think the gang’s here in Berytus?’

‘No idea. But if I don’t have something to report within the next few days, I doubt it will be my problem much longer.’

‘So what then?’

‘I hate to think. Probably something dangerous.’

‘So we could be leaving soon?’

Cassius pointed at the window. ‘I’d be grateful if you could try to master watching and talking at the same time.’

A knock on the door.

‘Come.’

The elderly proprietor brought in a chair, which Cassius took from him.

‘Some wine and two mugs. And make sure it’s all spotless.’

The Syrian muttered something and withdrew.

Cassius sat beside Indavara. ‘You seem a bit more yourself today.’

The bodyguard kept his eyes on the warehouse. ‘Again, sorry about … what happened.’

‘I told you – forget it.’

‘What you said at the gate – about the good people do.’

Cassius brushed horsehair off his tunic. ‘Yes?’

‘You were right.’

‘Well, there’s plenty of evil too, I’ll grant you. But it is worth trying to keep things in perspective. Do you remember our discussion about Marcus Aurelius?’

‘Yes.’

‘He said: “Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”’

‘I understand the first part. But the second?’

‘I’ve never been entirely sure. But I like it.’

Indavara was out getting food when the two riders arrived. Cassius dragged the chair closer to the window and peered out as the men dismounted. They tied their horses to a ring set into the wall then each detached two bulging saddlebags. The guard unlocked the gate and escorted them into the warehouse. Cassius looked up and down the street. Apart from a woman emptying a tub of water down a drain, all was quiet. He glanced at the hourglass he had brought; it was half past the sixth hour. He picked up the sheet of paper and stick of charcoal on top of his satchel and made a note.

Heavy boots thumped on the staircase, then came a knock. ‘It’s me.’

‘Well, come in then.’

‘I thought you might be worried,’ said Indavara as he entered.

Cassius realised his mistake. ‘Sorry, you’re right. I doubt anyone could ever find us here but I suppose I mustn’t let my guard down.’

‘Who was on the horses?’

‘Two men. They took something inside. Still in there.’

Cassius frowned when he noticed Indavara was carrying a wicker basket.

‘I had to buy it to carry everything. I’ve got fresh rolls, spiced sausage, goat’s cheese, apples and raisin cake.’

‘What about the water?’

‘Found a fountain – very clear.’

‘Well done.’

Cassius’s stomach was growling but he kept his eyes on the warehouse. ‘You eat first, I’ll—’

Indavara already had a roll in his mouth.

The two visitors left half an hour later and before Cosmas returned to take over, Cassius had made two more notes: one concerned the new sentry who replaced his compatriot around the eighth hour, the other the cart that arrived with another delivery shortly after.

‘Six amphoras and a barrel.’

‘I’d love to know what’s in them,’ said the sergeant, now wearing a fresh tunic and smelling rather more pleasant than when he’d left.

‘As would I,’ replied Cassius. ‘There’s no way that they could hide an oven in that warehouse, is there?’

‘I don’t see how – where would the smoke and the fumes go?’

‘Did you get anywhere with the building owner?’

‘I’ve got a man working on it. We should know by tomorrow.’

‘And locally?’

‘I had Gessius make a few enquiries on the street but nothing of interest came up. We could try again, I suppose.’

‘Perhaps if we don’t get anywhere.’ Cassius stood up and put his satchel over his shoulder. ‘Now, when shall we take over again?’

‘Third hour of night? If you can go through to the morning I’ll get someone else along first thing.’

‘Very well. By the way, I just about managed to stop Indavara consuming every last morsel so there’s a bit of food left.’

The bodyguard shrugged as he sank his teeth into an apple.

‘Thank you. See you later.’ Cosmas sat down on the chair, already twisting his beard.

‘Back to the tower?’ enquired Indavara as they hurried down the stairs.

‘Briefly. After hours in this pit and several more coming tonight there’s only one place I wish to spend the afternoon.’

‘The baths?’

‘The baths.’

Cassius was woken by Indavara’s snoring. He cursed quietly but was grateful that he’d been spared the shame of the bodyguard finding him asleep during his shift. He sat up in the chair, rubbed his eyes and looked down at the warehouse. According to Cosmas, the guard had been on duty as night fell; presumably he was still there now but not bothering to keep a light. Of the building itself, Cassius could see nothing but the angular outline. There wouldn’t have been much to observe except that a combination of moonlight and a few lanterns partly illuminated the street.

Indavara – slumped beside a little table where a candle burned – snored on.

Cassius checked his hourglass: the bottom half was almost full, which meant that midnight was close. Resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, he continued the vigil. After a while, he realised something was moving down on the street. He watched the shape until it revealed itself to be nothing more than a large rat nosing its way along the gutter.

He thought of all the other darkened streets and alleys; and all the buildings here and in the other cities of Syria and beyond. Where were his enemies? Still hunting him? Had they tracked him to Berytus?

Despite the warmth of the night, he shivered. Every day without incident should have brought him solace but he just felt as if he was waiting for the inevitable moment when they finally caught up with him. He couldn’t live with this fear indefinitely, he knew that much. Once this job for Marcellinus was over, there were only two alternatives. He had to either get far, far away from Arabia and Syria or turn the tables on his pursuers and find out once and for all who they were.

At least the evening had brought a little respite. Floating in the pool of the warm room, he had closed his eyes and imagined he was at the baths nearest to his family home; a place he had visited almost every day for a decade. With the obvious exception of female company, there was everything a man could ask for: friendly faces, stimulating conversation, endless gossip, tales of adventures and exotic lands, jokes and japes aplenty. Even his father had been more relaxed there, proud to be out in public with his bright, handsome son; often challenging him to a swimming race until Cassius had finally become too good.

Indavara’s chin dropped on to his chest and he ceased snoring.

Someone inside the tavern was coughing; presumably the owner – they still hadn’t seen any other residents or staff. When the coughing finally stopped, Cassius heard the soft tap of footsteps below. He looked downward and saw three men arrive on foot by the warehouse gate, one of them holding a half-shuttered lantern. The other two had heavy packs over their shoulders. Soon the guard appeared from the shadows.

Cassius stuck out a boot and kicked Indavara gently on the leg. The bodyguard snorted then asked what was going on.

‘See for yourself.’

Indavara got up on his knees and shuffled over to the window.

After a brief discussion, the new arrivals hurried inside and the guard locked the gate behind them. The lantern painted a moving yellow blotch that disappeared when they entered the warehouse.

‘What do you reckon?’ asked Indavara.

‘Hard to believe they’re on legitimate business at this time of night.’

‘Want to take a look?’

‘How?’

‘We can get over that wall. And they didn’t shut the warehouse door. And there’s no dogs. And they’re only armed with daggers.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Cassius. ‘If they are involved in the counterfeiting this can’t be where they’re doing it.’

‘So then we’re wasting time here. It would be good to know one way or the other.’

‘Mmm.’

‘I checked the wall this afternoon,’ added Indavara. ‘There’s no glass, no spearheads. No problem.’

Cassius reminded himself not to be too easily swayed by the bodyguard. Indavara was a little more thoughtful these days but invariably favoured action over inaction. But he was right about the possibility of wasted time. It was better to know.

Cassius stood up and took his sword belt off the chair. As he hung it from his shoulder he heard Indavara glug down some wine.

‘Now listen. You will stay calm, won’t you? Whatever happens.’

‘Just a bit of sneaking around, right?’

‘Indavara. We don’t know what—’

The bodyguard snuffed out the candle with two fingers. ‘I think you’re the one who needs to stay calm.’

The proprietor wasn’t particularly happy about being woken but a couple of sesterces shut him up. This was clearly not an area where doors remained unbolted in the hours of darkness so Cassius told him to wait until they returned. He and Indavara walked fifty paces to the right before crossing the street, then approached carefully until they were between the ruined apartment block and the warehouse wall. Pausing for a moment, they agreed they could hear nothing from inside, then proceeded to the rear corner.

‘How do we do this, then?’ asked Cassius.

‘You give me a leg up, then I pull you up after me. Tuck your sword into your main belt.’

‘Why?’

‘So it doesn’t clang against the wall when you jump – that’s why.’

‘Ah.’

‘Now – back against the wall. Link your hands together and give me a good boost.’

‘Those boots of yours had better be clean, I—’

Indavara was already on his way. Cassius thought his grip might falter but he held on and heaved as best he could. The bodyguard’s other boot thumped into the wall an inch from his ear and in an instant he was up. Cassius turned round and watched him scramble into a sitting position.

‘Looks clear. Take a good run. One foot on the wall. One hand up to me.’

Cassius checked his sword and kicked some pebbles out of the way as he retreated. He reckoned this wasn’t all that different from the high jump competitions he’d performed in as a youth and he took the same five quick steps. With a bit of purchase from his boot, he threw his arm upward. Indavara clamped a hand on his wrist and hauled him the rest of the way. Cassius found himself lying across the wall, staring down at the murky yard below.

‘Checking the ground, eh? Good idea.’

‘Most amusing.’

As Cassius righted himself, Indavara lowered himself, dropping the last two feet.

‘Can’t hear anything,’ whispered the bodyguard. ‘Come down.’

Cassius somehow scraped his chin as he hung from the wall but landed well.

Indavara was already moving. ‘Watch your footing – bit of rubble and a few holes.’

Cassius followed him to the closest corner of the warehouse. The large, circular windows high above allowed them to hear the voices inside, though they could not make out what the men were saying.