The Ghosts of Glevum (21 page)

Sosso smiled. Then, opening his hand, he showed me two stones that he’d picked up earlier. They were a fair weight – each perhaps half the size of my clenched fist, but he held them easily. Then, as I watched, he raised one arm and with a single smooth movement hurled one of the stones as far as possible. It flew as though it were a pebble, away from Lercius and the guard, and hit the wall at an angle, rebounded with a clatter, and bounced down the track. The soldier turned. One could almost see him furrowing his brow as he put one hand on his sword-hilt and took a few steps forward, peering down the lane.

What happened next was so quick that it seemed a blur. Sosso took aim with the second stone, and at the same instant seized my makeshift robe and thrust me back against a tree where I was out of view. I heard the impact as the missile hit the wall, and bounced in fragments on the stony path. From my hiding place I saw the soldier draw his sword.

‘Stop in the name of Rome. Who’s there?’ He came a little further down the lane. By now he was within a pace or two of us.

My heart thudded, thinking we’d been seen, but he blundered past and went on in the direction of the sound. As he did so I saw Lercius shimmy out across a branch and drop, lightly as a cat, on to the top of Marcus’s orchard wall. In another instant he was out of sight.

Relief almost betrayed me. I was ready to make a clumsy run for it, but Sosso had more sense. He touched my arm and motioned me urgently to stay where I was, and a moment later the guard came back again, shaking his head.

We waited for what seemed to me an age. The soldier took up his post and sheathed his sword again, but he was still peering suspiciously about. We lay where we were. I could hear my heart thudding, so loudly that I was sure the guard would hear, and my limbs ached with holding one position for so long. Even my breath came so hard that it seemed to drown out the gentle rustle of the wind in the trees and the coo of a pigeon, which were the only other sounds.

At last, when the soldier had relaxed and resumed his pacing up and down the lane, Sosso made his move. Choosing the moment when the guard’s patrol routine took him the maximum distance from us up the lane, my companion beckoned me and led the way noiselessly back into the trees.

I lurched upright and stumbled after him but I did not have his skill and I was aware of every rustle and the creak my flapping sandal made. Then I stepped upon a branch and heard it crack. I looked round, fearing that the guard had heard it too.

He had. He had drawn his sword and started after us. ‘In the name of Commodus Britannicus, Divine Emperor of Rome and all its provinces, come out and show yourself!’

I slowed, ready to obey, but Sosso flashed me his blackened ugly smile. ‘Not you!’ he murmured, and turned back himself, loping to the path with his lopsided gait. He purposely exaggerated the limp, and held his head on one side and his mouth ajar, with his arms held up by his sides.

‘Urgh! Urgh! Alms!’ I heard him croaking, ‘Urgh! Jove’s name! Urgh!’

That was a clever move. There is a widespread belief among worshippers of the Roman deities that among the crazed are those who have been touched by a supernatural hand and thus enjoy special protection from the gods. Soldiers are notoriously superstitious, of course and – since they are required to make oaths and sacrifices to Jupiter and Mars, whatever other religions they profess – Sosso was clearly assuming a kind of moral shield by calling on the name of the father of the gods and looking as lunatic as possible. If my life had not depended on the stratagem, it would have made me laugh.

It was successful, too. From where I was hiding in the woods, I could see the soldier backing off. ‘Go on! Be off! Don’t come close to me!’ He held his sword up warningly. ‘I’ve heard of you. You live the other side of Glevum, out among the tombs. What are you doing here?’

Sosso lurched closer to him. ‘Birds! Eat!’ he grunted, in a tone so horrible and slavering that even I shuddered, though I knew what the soldier could not guess – that this ugly, harmless little ‘idiot’ was in fact a natural leader capable of lightning thought and complex plans.

Indeed, I realised, I was witnessing one now. Allowing me to alert the guard had been no accident, and Sosso was talking to the man not merely to protect me, as I’d half supposed. Behind the soldier, on the orchard wall, I saw a hand appear, and then another, followed first by Lercius’s face and shoulders and then – with a swift upward push – by his body too.

Sosso loped closer to the guard, leering horribly. ‘Alms!’ he said again, making as if to paw the soldier’s arm.

The man stepped backwards. ‘I ought to take you under arrest,’ he muttered, but he dropped his sword. He was clearly nervous, though, and watching Sosso like a hawk. ‘Go on, get out of here, before I change my mind.’ Behind him Lercius ran along the wall and dropped to safety further up the path. I saw him scuttle silently across the lane and disappear into the woods on my side of the track.

Sosso must have seen him too. He gave one last, mock-despairing ‘Urgh!’ and then turned away. He loped towards me, turning off the path and ploughing through the moist brown undergrowth. This time he made no effort to be quiet. The guard watched him till he reached the shelter of the trees, then went back to pacing up and down the lane.

I must have made a bit of noise myself as I joined Sosso in retreat, but the soldier did not glance our way again. I had enough sense not to speak until we reached the fallen tree once more and were well out of earshot of the guard. Lercius was already there, sitting on the jagged stump and grinning like a frog.

Sosso nodded at him. ‘Succeed?’

‘It was easy, except for a pair of alarm geese that tried to hiss at me, but I managed to take care of them. I just dropped in among the bushes at the back and it was only a moment before a servant came along. It was a slave-girl, come to feed the geese.’

‘She didn’t scream?’ I said, trying to imagine what the poor girl must have felt, unexpectedly accosted in her owner’s private orchard by an unknown ragged man, who – knowing Lercius – most likely had an evil smile on his face, and a horribly dead goose in either hand.

Lercius grinned wider. ‘She didn’t get a chance. I came round behind her and covered up her mouth – then I showed her that wax writing tablet thing you gave to me. She didn’t struggle after that, so I put it in her hand and let her go. I think she was the one who brought it out, and once she saw it she accepted me. I didn’t even have to squeeze her very much,’ he added, with a suspicion of regret. He looked at Sosso proudly. ‘I told her what you said I was to say.’

‘No soldiers?’ Sosso said, ignoring this.

Lercius shook his head. ‘There are only two soldiers in that whole new annexe part – or so the slave-girl said. There were more to start with but apparently the owner’s wife made quite a fuss. Told the officer in charge that she didn’t want soldiers leering at her as she walked about, and demanded to have the women’s quarters to herself.’

I could scarcely suppress a smile at this. It was typical of Julia, I thought. It would be a strong man who could resist her pleas, if she looked demurely up at him under her beautiful brows as she smiled bravely and told him how distressed she was. I could imagine her deploying her considerable charms upon the centurion in charge. Julia was very skilled at obtaining her own way. ‘So the officer agreed?’ I said.

Lercius nodded. ‘That’s what comes of having looks and money, I suppose. For the lady they relaxed the guard. Inside that part of the house at least. Only those two guards posted at the exits now.’

Sosso had been listening closely. ‘And the rest?’

‘A dozen or so in the main part of the house, so the slave-girl says. When they come off duty, that is where they go. They’ve found the amphorae of wine that are sunk into the kitchen yard by now – judging by the noise they make, apparently. Otherwise, they’re watching at the gates and patrolling round the walls, to stop people getting in and out.’ He grinned again. ‘They’re not expecting trouble. The two that were in that women’s area were strolling up and down, not taking any notice of what went on. I glimpsed them when I was struggling with the geese. I’d thought they would discover me for sure – one of the stupid things did flap and squawk just once before I silenced it. But they scarcely glanced my way – too busy talking to one another.’ He winked. ‘Complaining about how boring it was, I expect. They didn’t even notice that there weren’t any pigeons about, when I gave you the signal that I was coming back.’

So that was how Sosso had known when to make his move. I was impressed. I’d registered the sound myself, but it had seemed so natural that it had not occurred to me that anything but a bird was making it.

‘And did you get the money?’ I enquired.

Lercius looked at me in surprise. ‘Money?’

‘I asked Julia for those four denarii,’ I said.

‘She’ll give you that herself, I expect,’ Lercius said. ‘When you go in.’

‘When I . . .?’ I looked at Sosso sharply. There was no way I could do what Lercius had done.

The dwarf just laughed, enjoying my obvious bewilderment. ‘That’s right. Give it to you then. More, if she’s got any sense.’ He was revelling in this, taunting me with hints, so it was clearly useless to ask anything outright. He gave another ugly little smile. ‘Remember your promise. Money every day. Or . . .’ He made that slitting gesture once again, and turned to Lercius. ‘You told her?’

‘I did. I said I did.’ Lercius was indignant. ‘Everything you told me, all about the cart, and bringing all the stuff in for the farm. At least I told the slave-girl. She said she’d tell her mistress and it would be arranged. I was lucky there. She knew this citizen.’ He turned to me. ‘You know the one. A chubby girl, with great big . . .’ He made gleeful grasping motions with his hands.

‘Enough!’ Sosso interrupted him. ‘But well done! Extra chicken stew for you. Come on.’ He did not pause, but led the way into the trees again, and once more I found myself following him blindly, as if I were the stranger in these woods and he had walked the paths for years. He moved so quickly that there was no more time for talk, and I struggled after him until (rather to my surprise, I confess) we branched out of the trees again and found ourselves in the clearing where the firewood-seller had his hut.

There had been trouble at the hut, that much was obvious. The meagre possessions which I’d seen earlier had been dragged outside and strewn haphazardly on the ground, while the roof and woodpile had both been pulled apart – with unnecessary violence, by the look of it. The wool from my dye-house lay in sodden piles and there were shards of broken pottery everywhere. Even Gwellia’s bowls of carefully sorted dyestuffs had been overturned. In the midst of all this chaos the old woman was scrabbling on her knees, trying to collect the pathetic objects together again as best she could.

She looked up wearily as we approached and I saw that her old eyes were filled with tears. ‘The soldiers, citizen,’ she murmured brokenly. ‘They have been here, searching everything.’

‘Soldiers? What were they doing here?’

Even as I framed the words, I knew what she would say. ‘Looking for you, citizen. I’m sure of it, although they didn’t say. When I asked questions, they just . . .’ She raised one hand to her wrinkled cheek and I felt a burst of anger as I saw the dull bruise darkening.

‘What kind of soldiers? Were they from the town? The garrison?’

She shrugged helplessly. ‘They were soldiers, citizen. That is all I know. Soldiers with armour, swords and leather skirts. Though, come to think of it, I’m sure they’re not the ones I’ve seen down in the lane. Great ugly men, these were, like brutes – the leader in particular.’

‘A brute with big shoulders and a face like an ox?’ I said, and saw from her expression that I had guessed right. This was the work of Bullface and his men.

She caught her breath. ‘You know the men?’

I nodded grimly. ‘I’ve seen them, once or twice. I know they’re after me. So they came here. I’m sorry. What happened then?’

‘They asked me who was hiding in the hut, and I said nobody. I tried to plead with them, saying we were poor and there was nothing there.’ She stifled a sob. ‘But they wouldn’t listen. They pushed past me – pushed me over – and went in. And then . . . did this. Turned the whole place upside down. Just picked up everything and threw it on the ground. Outside in the mud, of course. Scattered the woodpile, pulled down half the thatch. They even emptied out the water bowl, deliberately, all over that new wool and spoiled it. They threw away my remedies and ground them underfoot, although I begged them not to. The gods only know how I shall eke out a living now. But they wouldn’t stop. Poked at the bedstraw with their swords and then pulled it to the fire and let it burn.’

‘As well you’d given me the writing tablet, then,’ I said. I intended only to encourage her, but to my dismay I saw the helpless tears begin again. Obviously she hadn’t thought of that. If they’d discovered that, it would have meant the scourge for her at least.

‘Thank all the gods that you went with Sosso, citizen. If you had been here . . .’ She shivered.

If I had been there I would surely have been killed, and so would she. That was what she meant, and it was self-evidently true. Yet it puzzled me, when I considered it. Who had sent Bullface here to look for me? Not the commander of the regular Glevum garrison, it seemed. He had troops stationed at the villa, certainly, but when Lercius was there this afternoon there was no sign of activity or particular alert, as there would certainly have been if official search parties were out. Lercius had been explicit on the point. Besides, the garrison commander was an old friend of Marcus’s: even if he had been seeking my arrest – perhaps as an unwilling witness or co-conspirator – he would have wanted me brought back alive.

An unofficial party then? That was an uncomfortable thought. Up until now I had supposed that Bullface and his men, although seconded from the legionary ranks to serve as Praxus’s private bodyguard, were still Imperial soldiers under arms and therefore subject to orders from above either from the garrison or some high-ranking individual. Specialist groups can be co-opted to civil tasks sometimes, while waiting for a posting to come through. That was how Mellitus had used them on the evening of the banquet, and I suspected that Balbus had attempted to do the same.