I glanced at Junio and saw that he had read my thoughts. ‘The treasure!’ he murmured. ‘Will you look, or shall I?’
I stepped forward and pulled the cloth away. One of the sacks rolled clanking to the floor. Together we seized it, tore the rope away and tipped the contents out. Bowls, pans, spoons and metal jugs spilled around our feet: good but not expensive, normal household wares.
I stared at Junio and he stared at me. He picked up a ladle, went over to a box and used the heavy handle to prise the lid away. The wood snapped, creaking, and we looked inside. This time it was clothing — tunics, rugs, a pair of ancient boots. We turned to find Biccus, who was peering at our find with a look of satisfaction on his ugly face.
‘Well done, citizens, I would not have thought of that. We can use the rugs as coverings to keep us warm. And you’ve found beakers, too — there is sure to be a well, so we will have water in the morning if we’re thirsty then. Pity there’s no food here, by the look of it — I expect the departing owner took the crops with him and I know he sold or slaughtered all the animals — but there’s enough at my house, and it isn’t far. .’ He broke off, seeing the expression on my face and Junio’s. ‘You are disappointed? I thought you would be pleased?’
I shook my head. ‘This isn’t what I’d really hoped to find.’ I said it bitterly, chilled by the cold reality of my present plight. I had run away and broken bail, and now I was stranded miles away from town with little prospect of returning there before the court convened — so Marcus would be subject to a heavy fine and my sentence doubled, if that were possible. And all for nothing! I had been so keen to come and see the farm, certain that the place would hold a clue, or at least a person who had seen the cart — instead of which the whole estate was cold and dark and the hoped-for treasure proved to be a pile of packed-up household goods.
Biccus was shrugging. ‘Well, it’s hardly a surprise. I told you that the owner was packing up to leave. In fact, we’re lucky that he hasn’t come back for this load of luggage yet — at least we have the chance to make use of it tonight.’
I nodded grimly. There was nothing to be said. Junio was already foraging for rugs and blankets in the box. He found a bunch of home-made tapers, too, and I picked up the piece of sacking cloth — it was big enough to make a base for all of us. Brianus, meanwhile, had finished raking straw and came over with an armful — and a triumphant smile.
‘This is all that I can find that’s clean,’ he said. ‘There’s just enough to make a bed for you — the rest of us will have to make a mattress of our cloaks. Now you’ve found those blankets we shall not be cold.’ He glanced nervously at me. ‘I wondered about looking in those sacks, myself, but you had told me to collect the straw.’
He said it simply, as though my word was law: if the barn had been on fire, I thought, he would have continued with his task until it was completed or I ordered otherwise.
Biccus, though, did not seem satisfied. ‘There’s more straw over there beside the ladder to the loft. Quite a lot of it.’
Brianus shook his head. ‘That isn’t any good. I had a look at it. Someone has been killing animals, by the look of it, and the straw was put down to mop up the blood.’
I turned to Junio. ‘Animals? I wonder! If this is the place where the escort stopped the cart — whether it was all arranged before or not — that is much more likely to be human blood.’
Junio looked doubtfully at me. ‘That’s a lot of “maybe’s”, Father. There isn’t any proof that the cart even came in here to the farm. And as Biccus has just told us, the farmer butchered his remaining stock. Where else would he do it?’
‘Outside in the yard?’ I countered. ‘Isn’t that more likely, even in the rain?’
‘When he was going to scrub and limewash the shed, in any case?’ Junio replied. ‘And wouldn’t he have made a final sacrifice to ensure the blessing of the gods?’
‘So where’s the meat?’ I argued.
Junio shrugged. ‘If there was any extra he would have taken it — either to the market or to salt in his new home. Even if he’s moving to another farm, he can’t expect fresh produce for at least another year.’
What he was saying was wholly logical, but I could not let the matter go. ‘But bloodstains, in the only place the convoy could have stopped — on a farm that’s been bought by a customer from Gaul? It’s too much like coincidence. Let me see that straw.’
Brianus dutifully took the torch and led me to the place. He was right, the top straw was just speckled, but lower down the stalks were steeped in blood — dark red and sticky right down to the floor. There’d obviously been some previous attempt to clean the area — there was no trodden mess or droppings, just the bloodied straw — and the floor around it was swept reasonably clear: no sign of the struggle that murder would have caused. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but it was exactly what you might expect if someone had been butchering a couple of old cows to sacrifice.
I stooped down and ran a finger across the bloodstained floor. One small patch was particularly wet — as if the blood was fresher there than all the rest, though maybe it was simply that more had settled there. From an oil-anointed creature with severed neck, providing its owner with a last blood sacrifice? Or a dying escort-slave? If only it were possible to tell the difference!
I looked up to find Junio standing over me. ‘You still think this was where the treasure-party died? In that case it must have been a very swift attack.’
I got up and slowly shook my head. ‘Perhaps it was the rebels, after all. Perhaps the travellers were betrayed. Perhaps they were surprised. Perhaps they were murdered while they were asleep — because they’d stumbled on a rebel hideout by mistake. .’
‘More maybes, Father?’ Junio squeezed my arm. ‘I can only hope you’re wrong. If rebels have been here, we’re in danger, too. And I suppose that it is remotely possible — a deserted farm would be a splendid place to have a hideaway. But would you not expect an escort to stand guard, if they were sleeping in an empty place — especially with a cart-load of treasure to defend?’
I shook my head stubbornly but decisively. ‘We are going to keep somebody on watch, at any rate,’ I said. ‘We can take turns to sleep. Two people at a time. Me and Biccus, then you and Brianus. We’ll take these things and bed down in the barn next door. Bring those tapers — we’ll need to keep a light.’
And for a long, restless and uncomfortable night, that is exactly what we did.
TWENTY-SIX
I was awoken from a fitful dream by Brianus’s urgent whisper in my ear. ‘Master! The bandits! I think that they are here!’
I struggled to sit upright and looked stupidly at him. He was holding a taper, but faint light was filtering though the spaces in the eaves and I realized that it must be almost dawn. ‘There are people in the courtyard!’ He hissed the words at me. ‘Your son has slipped into the other barn. He’s searching through the sacks to see what weapons he can find. He told me to wake you, so we are prepared.’
I was already shaking Biccus into wakefulness. The pig-man had faithfully kept watch with me for hours and he was inclined to be resentful that I’d disturbed him now. ‘What in Pluto’s name. .?’ he hollered, then saw the finger I was holding to my lips. ‘What’s the matter?’ he murmured, suddenly subdued.
I did not need to answer. The sound of voices just outside the door was an explanation in itself. I simply jerked my head towards the sound, and busied myself with doing up my sandals and my belt. It might be necessary to make a quick retreat.
Biccus’s pig-eyes were wide open with alarm. ‘Dear gods — I do believe the owner has come back. Or perhaps the new one’s come. I can hear a woman — that must be his wife.’ He had already risen to his feet and was beginning to put his frightful footwear on.