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It had been simpler so far than I’d dared to hope. Brianus was speechless with admiration for my guile, but Junio simply grinned. ‘I told you that my father would work something clever out. Though he could have just told them that we wanted to go home — it is no secret that the roundhouse is this way.’

I shook my head. ‘We are the only pedestrians around, and this torch is visible for a long way from the gate. The sentry would soon spot where we were making for — this way at least it will be no surprise, and he won’t send someone running to drag us back again. But he’s right: we’d better hurry or we’ll find that Biccus has retired to his bed. Bring the light here, Brianus, and let’s see where we’re going.’

The value of a tar-torch was a considerable one. Not only would it last a good deal longer than our own, but the pitch burned with a brighter, more consistent light. It lit the darkness better than the moon and we were able to walk the distance to the inn with confidence.

There was an oil-light still burning when we approached the door, so someone in the household was clearly still awake. I knocked and heard a scuffling from within and then a window was thrown open on my right. ‘What’s all the racket?’ A man in a long-sleeved tunic was peering out at me, the oil-lamp in his hand. ‘Can’t you see we’re closed? We haven’t got a room. If you are looking for a bed, you’d better try the mansio.’

‘You have a man called Biccus here, I think. The army. .’

He cut me off. ‘I should think I have, and most inconvenient it has turned out to be! Stinks of pigs — although he swears he’s had a Roman bath — and no one else will share a bed with him. Yet the army says I’ve got to have him here. It’s all very well them saying that they’ll pay. Cost me a fortune with the trade I’ve turned away.’

‘Well, I’ve come to requisition something else, as well,’ I said. ‘I think you have a cart which carries torches, haven’t you? I believe I’ve ridden on it once.’

He held his lamp a little higher so he could look at me. ‘And what if I have?’ he said suspiciously.

‘I want it fitted up for use at once. I’ll need a driver, too. We are to be taken to where Biccus lives. On official business. As soon as possible.’ I tried to make it sound like a command. I took a mighty gamble. ‘The garrison will pay.’ Behind me, I heard Junio catch a startled breath. I only hoped the innkeeper had not heard it, too.

The shrewd eyes glittered in the lamp-light. ‘On whose authority?’ He looked me up and down. ‘You don’t look much like an army officer to me.’

‘Talk to Biccus, then,’ I countered. ‘He knows who I am. I helped to question him. I was called in by the commander of the garrison — with whom, incidentally, I rode out this afternoon, in one of your vehicles. The driver who took us will vouch for that, I’m sure. Ask him, if you doubt me, but don’t keep me standing here. And be quick about it; I have important work to do.’

The man was still grumbling but he pulled back the bolt and very reluctantly allowed us to come in. It was clear what he’d been doing when we knocked on the door: the table, which on one end was littered with half-empty bowls and mugs of wine, was covered on the other by small piles of coins. Open beside them was a large box with a key. He had been counting the takings for the day.

He saw me looking and swept the cash away, locking it firmly back into the chest. ‘I’d better get Biccus to take a look at you, I suppose. Though the wretch is probably in bed — sleeping away my profits, since he’s in there all alone.’

‘I’ll take him with me, if I helps,’ I volunteered, as though this were a favour I’d decided to bestow — though in fact I’d planned to do so all along. Only Biccus knew where we were going! ‘And we’ll leave his donkey with you as a pledge against the cost. It’s worth at least as much as the hiring-fee would be — that way you can’t lose.’

The innkeeper weakened, though he went on tetchily, ‘Now he takes the pig-man — when it’s far too late! We won’t get other travellers at this time of night. And we’ll have the donkey feed to find as well. Well, you’d better put that torch out — you’ll need it later on.’ He lit a taper from his lamp and went off, muttering. Soon we heard his padding footsteps on the floor above our heads and the sound of rapping on a distant door.

Brianus smothered the tar-torch expertly in a jug of wine. He was bursting to say something, I could tell, but I held my finger to my lips — and only just in time. The innkeeper was already clattering down the stairs, followed by Biccus, who was now moderately clean and wearing a coarse tunic that was far too big for him, though he was still carrying his horrid footwear in his hand. It was clear that he’d been wakened from his sleep and he was far from pleased.

The innkeeper pointed an accusing hand at me. ‘You know this person?’

Biccus cast a jaundiced eye at me. ‘I do — at least, I met him at the fort. I can’t recall his name. He’s some sort of Roman citizen. I don’t know the other two.’ He was in his uncommunicative frame of mind again.

‘Members of my household — my son and slave,’ I said impatiently. It was no good trying Celtic here — the innkeeper was clearly from the local tribe himself, so the only people not to understand would be Junio and Brianus, who had both been raised as Latin-speaking slaves. I tried a different approach. ‘You agree we met. In the commander’s office, isn’t that the case? When you were brought to him for questioning? And who was it that persuaded him to let you go?’

Biccus looked resentful. ‘I suppose that it was you.’

‘You see?’ I murmured to the innkeeper, though what Biccus said was not really proof of anything. ‘So, now will you provide the lighted cart to take us to the farm?’

Biccus glanced up sharply. ‘So you did persuade them to let you go out there, after all? And you must have talked them into letting you go home as well; otherwise you wouldn’t have your son and slave with you. I don’t know how you do it — I thought you’d been refused. You must have influence.’

I did not know how to reply to this, except to murmur, ‘It took a little time,’ but the effect on the innkeeper was immediate. He snatched up his taper and hurried off again, this time out towards the courtyard where the stable was. We could hear him shouting and hammering on the wall, and the sleepy answers of the waking slaves.

I caught the pig-man’s eye. ‘Count yourself lucky,’ I said cheerfully. ‘You wanted to go home and now you are going to get a cart ride all the way.’

‘And what about the donkey?’

‘Don’t worry about him. They’re going to keep him here — and we’ll bring you back to pick him up another time.’ I spoke as though that were a certainty, although of course it was nothing of the kind. If things went badly for me, I would have to ask Marcus to sort that out as well.

Biccus sat down on the bench and began to tie his dreadful shoes around his feet. The smell improved at once.

Brianus edged over and whispered close to me, ‘What are we going to do, master, when we arrive out at this farm? We won’t be able to get in — everybody will be fast asleep by now.’

It was a question I hadn’t really asked myself — my sole concern had been to get there and see what I could find. Clearly even that was not easy in the dark, and the owners were likely to set the dogs on us. But I couldn’t help it: my freedom was at stake and things had gone too far for me to change my mind. I could already hear the clatter of the horses in the yard, and the slaves complaining as they pushed out the cart. More and more tapers were flaring into light, and men were fetching a harness and strapping it in place.