The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (49 page)

Cosmas took the lantern from Indavara and held it close to the nearest shelf. ‘They’re all filled with some sort of white paint – maybe for upstairs. Perhaps they need to keep it cool.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Cassius. ‘But if so, why hide the hatch? Looks to me like a handy excuse in case anyone found this place.’ He glanced up at the roof, picturing where the oven was in relation to the hatch.

‘Cosmas, some light here.’ He walked to the right side of the chamber and inspected the shelving. Two sections were divided by a narrow gap. Cassius pressed his face close to the wall and saw that the shelf to his left hadn’t been leant up against the brick but was actually attached to it.

‘A fair attempt, but not entirely convincing.’ He pushed his hand behind the shelf and soon located a hook. He took it out of the ring stuck to the back of the shelf then retreated.

‘Hinge must be to the left.’

‘Careful,’ said Cosmas. ‘The amphoras.’

‘I wouldn’t worry.’ Cassius pulled on the shelf and the entire thing swung towards him. Behind it was a narrow doorway.

‘By Jupiter.’ Cosmas took a closer look at the amphoras on the shelf. ‘Stuck to the back with glue.’ He put his hand into one. ‘It’s not even liquid – just painted white to look like the others. Crafty bastards.’

‘Luckily we have our own crafty bastard,’ said Indavara as Cassius pushed the secret door all the way open.

Taking the lantern from Cosmas, he led the way into the second chamber, which was was so large that the light didn’t reach the corners. Cassius was already grinning. Sitting on a wooden pallet in front of him were at least a dozen well-filled sacks. They weren’t even tied at the top so he reached inside and pulled out a handful of denarii.

‘Gods’ blood,’ said Cosmas as he and Indavara stared down at the coins. ‘Must be thousands in each bag.’

Cassius dropped them back into the sack, keeping only one, which he held close to the lantern. The coin had smooth edges, precise lettering and a clear image of the Emperor’s face. ‘Looks like they’re a long way past the experimental stage.’ And when he looked more closely, he saw the two telltale marks Quentin had identified. ‘This is it. This is the gang spreading these fakes all over the East.’

He dropped the coin into his satchel then walked to the left along the edge of the room. He passed several tables fitted with anvils and saw two hammers just like the one Indavara had wielded in the Tripolis mint.

‘That’s why it’s so far down. Even when the factory’s going, they need a few yards of earth to cover the noise.’

He reached another wall, then turned right. Close to the next corner was a small, shadowy tunnel.

‘Wonder where that leads,’ said Indavara.

‘Might be for ventilation,’ said Cassius. ‘Or an escape route.’

‘Could connect to the catacombs,’ said Cosmas. ‘There are thousands of tunnels under the city. Some lead to tombs, some to the water supply and the sewers. Shall I check it?’

‘Yes, but be quick.’

As Cosmas lit a candle and set off, Cassius continued on around the edge of the room, pacing it out. The chamber measured twelve yards by eight; the gang must have worked quickly to construct it in only two weeks while the factory was closed. He also noticed a small vent at each corner, presumably running up to the surface.

Cassius stood over the oven, which was housed to the right of the door. Though it was on the small side, the only unusual feature was the chimney. Halfway up the wall, the clay pipe joined a metal cylinder that disappeared into the roof. Cassius bent over the oven and put his hand above the coals inside – they were still warm.

As he straightened up, Indavara joined him.

‘Moulds here; bronze, iron and copper over there.’

‘There’s just one thing missing,’ replied Cassius.

‘The dies.’

‘Yes. The sergeants can grab all this later but we can’t risk losing the dies. They must be here somewhere.’

The workshop was very tidy and it didn’t take them long to spot the strongbox. Cassius held the lantern while Indavara picked it up and dumped it on to a desk.

‘Gods, that’s heavy.’

It was a larger version of Cassius’s, constructed of a thick hardwood and reinforced with iron bands. He was not surprised to find it locked.

‘I doubt they keep the key here.’

‘Use one of the hammers?’ suggested Indavara.

‘What about the noise?’

‘It weighs a ton – you want to try getting it out of here and back over that wall without making a peep?’

‘Maybe Cosmas can get it open with his picks.’ Cassius turned towards the tunnel; the light from the sergeant’s candle was faint. ‘Hope that doesn’t go too far.’

‘Let’s look for the key. You never know.’

While Indavara hunted through some small pots on a nearby shelf, Cassius checked the three drawers of the desk. He found only writing materials in the first and blank sheets of paper in the second. The third contained a large, leather-bound ledger which he took out. Flicking through the first few pages he found a remarkable level of detail, right down to how many pounds of metal had been used and how many coins had been produced each day. There had been a crew of eight labouring there under the supervision of a senior man who looked after the ledger. That very day they had minted over four thousand coins.

‘By the gods.’ He tapped the page. ‘Got you, you criminal bastards. Got you.’

‘It’s not here,’ said Indavara.

‘No. We’ll have to—’

The noise came from above.

They both looked up, heard boots crossing the factory floor. Cassius managed to put the ledger down silently even though his hands were shaking. They strode over to the doorway, looked up at the hatch.

Light; dim at first, then brighter. Voices; loud at first, then quieter.

They retreated into the workshop without a word. Cassius picked up his satchel and left only a half-inch of the lantern shutter open.

‘The tunnel?’ whispered Indavara.

‘What if Cosmas didn’t find a way out?’

‘Isn’t that why it’s there?’

‘We’d better hope so.’

As they passed the doorway, the first man was already coming down the ladder. Cassius hurried along the edge of the room, then ducked into the tunnel, which was barely five feet high. It was narrow too, cut from dark earth striped with sand and dotted with bits of rubble. Every few yards was a frame of timber covering the sides and the roof.

‘They behind us?’

‘Not yet, just keep going.’

Cassius had counted fifty paces when the lantern light caught something pale to his right. He stopped and heard Indavara mutter an oath. They were now standing at an intersection where a larger tunnel crossed the one they were in at an angle. To the left it was clear, to the right it had been walled off with limestone blocks after only a few feet.

‘Corbulo, they’re in the workshop.’

Cassius pressed on, head bent over, arms scraping the sides. After twenty-nine more paces, he came to what seemed like a dead end. Then he realised the the tunnel turned abruptly to the right.

‘Quick,’ said Indavara.

Cassius followed the turn and found the true end of the tunnel. Fortunately there was also a vertical shaft with a ladder attached to it. At the top of it he could see a square of starry sky.

‘Cosmas?’ Cassius didn’t dare shout.

No reply.

‘Where in Hades is he?’

‘Just get up there,’ hissed Indavara.

‘You go first. It’s difficult with the lantern.’

The bodyguard squeezed past. He put his foot on the bottom rung then looked up and froze. ‘Cosmas, that you?’

No reply.

‘Get ba—’ Cassius didn’t finish his warning.

Indavara threw himself backwards, knocking Cassius into the side of the tunnel.

Something thudded into the ground.

‘What was that?’

‘Arrow,’ said Indavara.

‘The other tunnel. Come on – we have to get back to it before they do.’

Cassius closed the lantern shutter completely and set off back around the corner. The lights in the workshop were now bright and he could see the silhouettes of men moving around.

Twenty-nine paces.

Twenty-five.

One of the men moved in front of the light. He was standing at the other end of the tunnel, looking into it.

Twenty paces. Fifteen.

The man moved. He wasn’t coming forward but he was definitely doing something.

Five paces.

‘
Down!’

Cassius ignored Indavara; he was almost there. Just as he was about to dart into the other tunnel something punched his right shoulder. The impact spun him and he landed heavily on his back. The next thing he knew, Indavara had picked him up, dragged him into the blocked tunnel and propped him against the limestone wall.

An increasingly sharp pain was lancing into his shoulder. ‘What happened?’

‘Arrow.’

‘Gods, it must have gone through. I can feel it.’

The lantern had smashed, leaving them in darkness so complete that Cassius couldn’t see Indavara in front of him.

‘Where did it hit?’ asked the bodyguard.

‘Shoulder.’

‘Which?’

‘Left, er, no, right.’

‘Make up your mind.’ Indavara ran his hand over the armour.

‘It went through, didn’t it? Just tell me the truth.’

‘No. Few bent rings, that’s all.’

‘Don’t give me that, I can feel it.’

‘And I can feel the undershirt – not even a hole. You’re fine. But next time I say get down – get down.’

Indavara moved away for a moment then returned. ‘They’re coming. Both directions. The men to the right will get here first. We need a light or we’ve had it. I’ll stick the first man, you take his lantern.’

‘Then what?’

‘Go for that tunnel opposite.’

‘We don’t know where it goes. What do you think happened to—’

‘Quiet. Get behind me.’

Cassius did so and heard Indavara’s blade slide out of the sheath. The lamplight coming from the right grew brighter. Then came a shout; and a conversation in a language Cassius couldn’t identify.

‘Use Greek!’ yelled someone. ‘Did you hit them?’

‘Not sure.’

The light was close. Indavara pressed himself against the wall and moved forward.

‘Keep coming,’ said a voice from the left. It sounded like an older man. ‘Quick, they might be in the other tunnel.’

‘What other tunnel?’

Indavara was gone. Cassius leaped out behind him and saw the agonised terror on his victim’s face as the blade pierced his neck.

‘Lantern!’

Cassius reached around Indavara and pulled it from the dying man’s grip. Once he had it, Indavara kicked his victim in the chest, sending him flying back into whoever was behind him.

Cassius was on his way. Hearing shouts from both sides, he sprang into the tunnel. Here at least he could stand up straight; the curved roof was a foot above him. Like the floor and walls it was brick: dank, mouldy and crumbling. Cassius couldn’t run at full pace; apart from the armour and the uneven surface underfoot, he had to keep the lantern alight.

‘Hurry!’ bawled Indavara. ‘If we don’t find cover we’re sitting ducks for those bows.’

In his efforts to speed up, the bodyguard lost his footing and nearly fell. Pausing to wait for him, Cassius glanced back along the tunnel. The two lanterns were bobbing, the dark figures moving quickly – no more than thirty feet away.

They ran on, side by side. An arrow flew past, so close to Cassius’s ear that he flinched and almost stumbled. ‘Gods!’

‘Least you’ve got your armour,’ said Indavara. ‘Where’s a bloody turn when we need one?’

Another bolt clattered into the wall just behind them.

‘What’s that?’ said Indavara. ‘On your side.’

They stopped by a narrow opening in the brickwork. Two rats that been running away from them scurried inside. Cassius looked back; their pursuers had stopped.

‘Down,’ snapped Indavara.

Just as they crouched, a third bolt shot past.

‘No good,’ said Cassius, reading the Greek on a plaque attached to the wall. ‘A crypt. There’ll be no way through.’

Indavara shuttered the lantern. ‘We can still use it. You go on. I’ll give them a surprise.’

‘You sure?’

‘Just go. But you must show them the light.’

‘Right.’ Cassius opened the shutter then got to his feet and pounded away along the tunnel, weaving from side to side as best he could.

Not now, please, Jupiter, not now. Not here. Not like this
.
Not like—

The arrow thumped into him. He stopped, waited for the pain.

But it didn’t come. He looked down. The bolt had gone through one side of the satchel and stuck there.

Jupiter, thank you!

He ran on, even though no more arrows came.

After a few more paces he belatedly noticed that the colour of the bricks had changed. They were newer and in better condition. And he spied little channels in the walls dripping water on to the floor. Then he realised something else. The tunnel had begun to slope downwards.

Indavara had no plan other than to come out swinging. He was glad Corbulo was out of the way; this would be basic and bloody. The thrum of the footsteps came quickly, the grainy yellow light too. At the first glimpse he leapt out at them.

The first man was lucky. He tried to slow himself but slipped and was already falling when Indavara struck. The blade caught the bow in his hand, slicing the string but doing no other damage.

The others – three or four, he couldn’t be sure – were almost past him when they realised they were under attack. One reacted far quicker than the others. Eyes glinting in a dark, bearded face, he dropped his bow and plucked a long knife from his belt.

Indavara sidestepped to his right; he had to protect his escape route.

The quick-thinking warrior charged past an older, bald-headed man, arm and knife outstretched.

Indavara swatted the knife away, rolled his wrists and sliced up at his face.

The warrior threw himself backwards, avoiding the blade by inches.

Indavara was about to strike again when a second wild-looking warrior came at him from the left. Knowing he couldn’t get the sword around in time, he ducked low.