I did nod this time. That explained how I came to be observed. ‘I see. He was obviously alarmed. So you are taking this threatening message seriously?’
He looked at me gravely. ‘Very seriously indeed. And whoever made the threat is serious as well. There is not only this robbery to take into account. There has been murder, too — and of a citizen.’
‘Not the lictor?’ I wondered if there was something I had not heard about.
‘Not the lictor, but a Roman citizen all the same. He was with the cart.’
‘One of the mounted escort? I’d assumed that they were all slaves, either owned by Voluus or hired from somebody to guard the cart for him.’
‘I believe they were. I understand that there were slave-discs discovered round their necks. Of course those deaths are most unfortunate, but obviously the killing of a citizen is of more immediate concern. He seems to have been the driver of the cart. I’ll show you what was brought here by the traveller who happened on the scene and brought us word of it.’ He stooped and picked up a bloodied bundle from the floor beside his desk, and slowly unwrapped it so that I could see.
‘Dear gods,’ I murmured. I was looking at a handsome travelling cape — or the remains of one. It was not difficult to see what had occurred — it was slashed in several places and each hole was drenched in blood. ‘Someone was clearly savagely attacked. But how can you be certain it was a citizen?’
‘Several reasons, citizen. That cloak was wrapped around the driver’s hacked remains. It is clearly not the sort of garment a common slave would wear. And the man who found him recovered this from round his waist.’ From a drawer in the table he produced a balteus, a handsome military belt, distinguished by the silver chasing on the front and the holster for a dagger on one side. ‘Most veterans choose to keep these when they leave the force, though the studded apron is — naturally — removed. Perhaps we are lucky that the finder brought it in. If it were not so clearly a military thing, he might have tried to sell it for the silver it contains.’
‘So the driver was almost certainly a veteran, you think?’ The commandant’s concern was making sense to me. ‘Retired cavalry, do you suppose?’ Most soldiers simply married when they left the force and used their accumulated pay to buy a piece of land, but those in the mounted units — having spent a life with horses — sometimes chose to carry on, purchasing an animal and a cart which they could ply for hire and so make an honest living for their remaining years.
The commander nodded as he put the things away. ‘Exactly so. We think he was an auxiliary from this very garrison: one of the Gallic contingent that was here before I came. One of my officers thinks he recognizes the pattern of the belt. This kind of silver chasing is distinctive, as you see — typical of the kind those Gallic horsemen wear.’
I drew a sharp breath inwards. ‘So you think the dead man was, at one time, stationed here?’ No wonder he was interested in pursuing this. ‘And that’s why you think he was a Roman citizen! Even if he was not born into the rank, he would have gained his diploma on retirement, of course.’
‘That is the assumption that I am working on. It looks as if he served until retirement age.’ He ran the fingers through his hair again, and because he was closer to me now, I caught the faint whiff of horseradish and spice — the most famous cure for baldness in the world. In any other circumstances it would have made me grin. I had not expected the commandant to be vain.
He took my silence for disagreement with his argument. He sat down to face me, leaning forward as he pressed the point. ‘Look, Libertus, he could hardly be a private driver if he were not discharged, and the body — or what is left of it — appears to be unmarked. No mention of any ancient scars, as you’d expect if he was wounded and invalided out.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Though I suppose there might have been damage to an arm. I understand that both were missing when the corpse was found.’
‘What’s happened to the body?’ I demanded suddenly, earning myself a disapproving glare: it was not my place to be putting questions here. I added, by way of half-apology, ‘I ask because I feel it should be checked again. Whoever found it might not have looked for things like that. It is enough to find a mutilated corpse without stopping to examine it for signs of ancient wounds. And of course there might be other clues as well.’
The commander put his veined hands on the desk in front of him. ‘I believe there’s a detachment of my men out at the site of the attack. They were going to move the bodies — there are five or six of them — and bring them back to Glevum to be buried here. I had not considered travelling to see the place myself, but you rouse my interest.’ He looked at me wryly. ‘Would you care to come? I understand you are an expert in this kind of thing. Marcus Septimus is always telling me as much.’
I was so astounded that I could only mutter, ‘Me? Accompany you? But Florens has demanded. .?’
The lean face softened to what might have been a smile. ‘Oh, don’t misunderstand me, citizen. I don’t mean to set you free. The law obliges me to keep you under guard. And you will have to answer questions as we go along. However, I would be glad to have your views. Officially, we’ll regard it as cooperation on your part, and I can quote that in your favour if you come to court.’
I had really expected that I’d be dragged away in chains, so I could hardly believe my good fortune as he shouted a command and the plump centurion, Emelius, came hurrying in again.
My elation vanished very quickly, though, as the commander said, ‘Take this man away and shut him in a cell until I send for him. When you have done that, see that some transport is arranged for me, with the fastest horses that we have available. Something substantial, not a military gig — I intend to see this crime scene for myself, and I’m taking the prisoner with me when I go.’
You could see the question forming on Emelius’s face, though he was too well-trained to say anything aloud.
‘It’s perfectly in order. He has agreed to help us with the crime. I’m not releasing him, he will be under guard. In fact, I can’t think of a better person to guard him than yourself, so I am relieving you of duties here and you’ll accompany us. I shall want a mounted escort, too, of course. Half a dozen horsemen should suffice. Report to the officer of the day and tell him what I’ve said.’ He turned back to the documents on his desk again and picked up an iron-tipped pen. ‘Well, man, what are you waiting for? You have your orders. See that they’re obeyed.’
The centurion, who was still looking very much bemused, came to a smart salute and then marched — a careful military march — across to me. Before I realized what was happening he had seized me by the arm and twisted it cruelly up behind my back. Thus pinioned and unbalanced I could not resist as he propelled me expertly towards the door.
He was about to thrust me through it when the commander called him back. ‘One more thing, officer!’
I relaxed, hoping that this heralded relief from my discomfort, but I was disappointed.
‘While you are about it bring me a report from the officer of the day, saying who has been deployed to bring those bodies in. That is all — dismissed.’
Another swift salute and then I found myself being bundled headlong down the stairs again, through the guard-room — under the startled stare of the man with the accounts — and out into the court. I scarcely had time to recognize that it was raining hard again before the centurion had propelled me round the corner of the tower, unbolted the door of a small and airless cell, pushed me unceremoniously into it and slammed the door again.
NINE
I fell on my knees in an inch of stinking straw and, even as I did so, I heard the bolt slide to. I tried to look about, but there was no window in the room so it was too dark to make out anything at all and the thickness of the door was muffling all sound — even the patter of the rain could not be heard. A feeling of helpless terror flooded over me.