The soldiers marched away, the standard swaying high. The court felt oddly silent after they had gone. The grey stones echoed the bleakness of my mood. As if on cue, it began to rain again.
Servilis looked resentfully at me. ‘This is all your doing, pavement-maker. .’ he began, but he was interrupted by the plump centurion bustling over from the tower.
‘Now then, you two, if you would like to follow me. The garrison commander will see you straightaway. The councillor is with him and they’re ready for you now.’
I glanced towards the guard-room window in surprise, but obviously Florens was no longer there. I had been so busy watching the departure of the troops, and so consumed with my own wretched thoughts, that I had not seen him go.
The centurion used his baton to point the way for me, making it clear he wanted me to walk in front where he and Servilis could keep an eye on me. I already knew the way to the commander’s room — so off we went, through the cool dark of the guard-room, where candles flickered in sconces on the wall, and through towards the steep stone staircase at the rear.
A youngish officer, perhaps an optio, was seated at the table in the guard-room as we passed, busily working with an abacus and scratching something on a piece of bark. He looked up as we went past. ‘Ah, there you are, Centurion Emelius. I should be quick if I were you. The commander does not like to be kept waiting, as you know.’ And he turned his attention back to his accounts.
I was more than willing to meet the commandant. I had met him several times before and had found him to be both sensible and intelligent, so there was hope I could persuade him of my innocence. I climbed the staircase as quickly as I could, even without the soldier’s baton flapping at my heels. Servilis was still grumbling as he toiled up after us.
The centurion rapped sharply on the door of the commander’s room and was answered by a shouted instruction to come in.
The commandant was exactly as I’d remembered him: tall, rangy and athletic, with a weather-beaten face, and armour so gleaming you could see the room reflected in the scales, right down to the objects on the table top: oil-lamps, ink-pot, seals and scattered scrolls. Apart from a lamp-stand, the commander’s desk and stool and the shadowy statue of a god set in a wall-niche at the rear, there was no other furniture to see. The commanding officer had ascetic tastes.
The room, which smelt of lamp-oil and pomade, and the beeswax which had obviously been used to shine the desk, seemed more austere today, against the flamboyance of Florens and his slave.
‘Centurion Emelius reporting, Worthiness. In the name of His Imperial Divinity, the Emperor. .’ The plump centurion was launched on the lengthy list of honorific titles which Commodus had assumed, and which was required by army protocol as the proper preamble to addressing a senior officer.
The commander (for the first time in my acquaintance with him) stood and heard him out, presumably because the councillor was there — Marcus was not the only one to fear Imperial spies. Servilis, meanwhile, had abandoned me and gone to stand behind his owner with a smirk.
The centurion completed the formalities at last. ‘I have brought the prisoner Libertus as you requested, sir,’ he finished breathlessly.
The commander raised an eyebrow laconically at me. ‘Well, pavement-maker. So we meet again. And in connection with more deaths and robberies, I hear? This member of the curia has explained the facts to me and requests that I should keep you here for questioning. He wants me to put your patron under guard as well, and thinks he has sufficient evidence to bring a formal charge against you both in court.’
Florens was looking exceptionally smug. ‘I want this matter settled before Voluus arrives. Libertus may in the end be glad of that himself. I did not meet the lictor personally last year, when I went to Gaul, but I did meet his household — and I warn you, citizen, he is a man who demands the fiercest penalties. He will doubtless hold the town responsible if this is not resolved.’
The commander shook his head. ‘Given that, Libertus, what am I to do? It almost seems that troubles follow you about. I’m beginning to think it would be sensible to do as he proposes and to lock you up — if only for the safety of the rest of us.’
I hoped this was ironic but I could not be sure. My chances of getting home to Gwellia tonight were looking very slim. Florens — urged on by Porteus, no doubt — was obviously intent on having me kept at the garrison in chains, in order to bring me securely to trial. It is the responsibility of the man who brings a charge to ensure that the accused appears in court on the appointed day; otherwise there can be no trial at all. Obviously, that can often prove difficult to do. However, if I were already in Roman custody it would be easy to compel me to appear before the magistrates.
That was clearly what Florens had in mind. He gave a mirthless smile. ‘Then I will leave him in your hands.’
‘Thank you, councillor. This man will show you out.’ He nodded to the plump centurion who snapped to work and held the door ajar.
Florens gave me a mocking bow as he passed close to me. ‘Then farewell, Libertus. I doubt we’ll meet again, unless it is officially in court. I’ve told the commander everything that points to your involvement in all this — including your excuses and explanations for today, although I don’t believe that he’s much impressed with them. However, he is willing to let you plead your cause. If you fail to convince him of your innocence, he has agreed to summon your patron in for questioning as well — and in any case, I’m sending my escort to search both your properties. Come, Servilis. Your grateful servant, commandant!’ And still accompanied by his crimson slave, he bowed himself away.
There was a little silence after they had gone. After a moment I said daringly — since it was not my place to be first to speak — ‘I swear I had nothing to do with stealing from the cart. Nor Marcus either.’
‘I’m tempted to believe you,’ the commander said, sitting slowly on his stool and looking up at me. ‘Though the evidence against you is looking rather black.’
‘But surely,’ I said, ‘we know that there are rebel bandits in the wood, and they mount raids on passing carts from time to time. It would not have been difficult for them to learn that there was gold — it seems to have been common knowledge in the town. Isn’t it more likely that they carried out the theft?’
The commander ran both hands through his thinning hair. ‘That might seem the obvious solution, certainly — if it were not for what happened before Voluus left the town last time.’
I felt a sudden sinking feeling in my guts. ‘And what was that?’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard. He had a letter threatening that he would be robbed and killed if he attempted to move to Glevum. They found it when he’d left. It wasn’t signed or sealed of course — just a scribbled scroll left anonymously at the mansio. It was done so fast they did not even catch the messenger.’
I remembered Brianus’s story of his master’s outburst at the military inn. That had been in answer to a message he’d received. I managed not to nod. I said, rather shakily, ‘That does not sound like the way the rebels operate, it’s true. And I suppose a lictor does make enemies.’
‘Voluus clearly thought so. He was evidently so worried by the threat that it appears he paid. .’ he hesitated, and obviously decided against mentioning the name ‘. . someone to keep watch on his apartment day and night while he was gone.’