The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (58 page)

Indavara and Mahalie walked out of the inn and on to the street.

He looked back at the place. It was small but orderly and clean, with hanging baskets outside and nice balconies for the rooms. He had rented Mahalie’s for a week and paid in advance. It was on the first floor and close to the owner’s quarters. They were a middle-aged couple; Indavara wanted a place with a woman and it had taken a while to find one.

‘Will you be all right here?’

‘It seems very nice.’

He had watched Mahalie place her blanket of belongings on the bed then leave it untouched. Assuming that she didn’t want to unpack in front of him, he’d suggested a walk before he left. Corbulo was right; he had to keep his distance. They would be leaving soon.

‘Down to the sea?’

‘Yes.’

They were less than a hundred yards away and had only to follow the smell of fish and the squawking gulls. This area was west of the main harbour and contained many inns and taverns. Indavara hoped he could find his way back to the tower; it was at least a mile away.

They walked past women lighting lanterns and men returning from work. At the end of the street was a quay where fishermen were unloading their catch. They went to look at the contents of the baskets and saw fish, crabs and lobsters, only a few of which were still moving.

Indavara doubted if Mahalie had said more than ten things all day. He couldn’t think of much more to say himself so was almost relieved when a lad carrying a tray of cakes came past. For once he wasn’t hungry but he bought two and they ate them sitting on an upturned rowing boat.

‘Why did you help me?’ she asked when they had finished.

‘Just … I don’t know … because I could.’

Because no one helped me.

She wiped crumbs off her mouth. ‘You said you were a slave.’

‘A fighter. For six years. I won my freedom.’

‘I cannot repay you.’

‘Seeing you happy will be enough.’

And so she gave him a smile.

‘What about before?’ she asked. ‘Before you were a fighter? Where are you from?’

‘The sun is almost down. I must go. May I come and see you tomorrow?’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Please. I don’t know anyone else.’ She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked out at the sea.

Thank you, my Fortuna. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Cassius got up and walked over to the door. ‘What do you mean, there’s no one there?’

Simo moved aside so he could look through the spyhole. Cassius couldn’t see much because of the fading light but there indeed seemed to be no one outside the door. He stepped back and exchanged a blank look with Simo.

Then came another knock.

‘Who is it?’

‘You
are
there, sir.’

Cassius checked the spyhole again. He could see two city sergeants armed with clubs and swords. They were standing too far back for him to see much of their faces.

‘Yes. Who are you?’

‘We were sent by Master Diadromes, sir. There has been an attack on the barracks – nothing too serious but he wanted to post us here just in case.’

Cassius reached for the top bolt, then hesitated. He looked through the spyhole again. ‘Have I met you two?’

‘You’ve met me, sir,’ said the second man. ‘It’s Vespilo.’

Cassius glanced at Simo then let out a sigh of relief. He unbolted the top, Simo did the bottom.

‘So what happened at the barracks?’

‘Some arrows were shot over the wall. No casualties.’ When Vespilo came forward, Cassius recognised his face.

‘Good. Any other problems?’

‘No, sir. It seems Deputy Diadromes is on top of things. Is your bodyguard around?’

‘No, but he’ll be back soon. Simo here will bring you out some stew when it’s done, how does that sound?’

‘Certainly smells good,’ said the other sergeant.

‘Tastes even better, I assure you.’

Vespilo gave a nod and the pair set off back down the path.

Cassius shut the door behind them.

He had no idea what time it was when he awoke. Inside and outside all was dark.

Simo was calling his name. He rolled out of bed and ambled to the top of the stairs. The Gaul was standing by the front door, holding a lamp.

‘What is it?’

‘Master Cosmas is outside, sir.’

‘Well, let him in.’

Clad only in his sleeping tunic, Cassius held on to the wall as he descended the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, the sergeant was inside.

Cosmas turned and looked back through the doorway. ‘Come inside, please. Come on!’

Cassius stood beside Simo as Cosmas pulled Mahalie in, then shut the door behind her.

‘What’s going on? Where’s Indavara?’

Mahalie reached out to Simo and clutched his hand.

‘One of our patrols found her wandering the streets.’ Cosmas put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on, girl. You must tell him what you told me.’

‘They … they took him.’

Cassius felt his entire body shiver. ‘What?’

‘We were walking back to the inn. They came out of nowhere. Six or seven at least. He fought them, told me to run. By the time I reached the inn and looked back they were gone. He was gone.’

‘She said they were all in black,’ added Cosmas. ‘Hoods. Not one of them said a word.’

Mahalie threw herself into Simo’s arms.

‘What will I do now?’ she wailed. ‘What will I do?’

The Gaul just stood there, comforting the girl, staring at his master.

‘Sir,’ said Cosmas, ‘I’ve got a squad out there now. I’ve alerted all the sentries at the gates, we will do everything we …’

Cassius heard nothing more. He walked away and sat down on the stairs.

They were never after me.

They were after him.

As usual, I thought it appropriate to mention a few of the historical issues featured within the story.

It was indeed the case that after defeating the Palmyrans for a second time in 273 AD, Aurelian turned his attention to his enemies in Egypt. It is thought that the leader of the revolt there was a wealthy merchant named Firmus. The precise nature of the rebellion remains unclear, though we do know that widespread damage was caused in Alexandria and elsewhere. Aurelian dealt with the unrest swiftly before returning to Rome.

Readers of
The Imperial Banner
will recall the first appearance of Marshal Marcellinus. Aurelian did entrust the command of the East to a man of this name, though we know almost nothing about him.

The background to the Emperor’s issue of coins was one of debasement and rampant inflation. Although the information about the XX mark is historically accurate (the majority view being that this signified a five per cent silver content), the code actually featured on the
antoninianus
– a coin worth two denarii. These had been in circulation for some time but I used the denarii for the sake of clarity and series consistency.

Aurelian expanded Rome’s network of mints, particularly in the East. It is believed that the Tripolis mint was set up to produce coins celebrating the victory over Palmyra and fortify the troops before their Egyptian expedition. Like all emperors, Aurelian also wished to propogate his image and secure the loyalty of his men. The imagery of the solar deity featured on coins from this era exists as described. Readers of the previous book,
The Black Stone
, will recall that although fascinated by the religons of the East, Aurelian was careful not to favour them above the traditional ‘great gods’ of the Roman pantheon.

Counterfeiting was a widespread problem but generally more prevalent in the West, particularly Britain. Although coin production techniques were relatively simple, they were dependent on precise methods and expert practitioners; high-quality fakes were not easily created.

Berytus (modern day Beirut) was known as the ‘most Roman’ city in the East. From the third to the sixth centuries, the law schools trained so many officials and issued so many legal texts that it earned the title ‘mother of law’.

Although the specific instance of civil unrest described here is an invention of mine, we do know that Berytus’s weavers were a significant group and that the presence of Aurelian’s army in the eastern provinces brought a variety of pressures. Protest and rioting was a fairly regular feature of Roman life and the use of soldiers to ‘keep the peace’ often inflamed febrile situations.

The Emperor’s Silver
was completed between February and September 2014.

Sincere thanks to the usual suspects:

My agent David Grossman – for help with everything relating to writing and publishing.

Editor Oliver Johnson – for help making book five as good as possible.

Anne Perry – for being supremely helpful and well organised.

All those historians whose excellent texts I made use of.

And finally my wife Milena – for putting up with my ramblings and the occasional rant.