The old man gave me a startled glance, then made a wry gesture of assent. ‘Exactly so.’
Marcus looked startled at this casual evidence of illicit trade and glared at the optio, who said reluctantly, ‘We are aware that something of the kind goes on in Venta, secretly.’ Not very secretly, I knew, but I said nothing. The poor officer had enough troubles on his mind.
‘Not so surprising,’ Kiminiros said. ‘It’s part of the tactics of the rebel tribes. Their raiders make a point of capturing equipment when they can, and harrying the legion’s supply lines on the roads. So those who look like allies may be enemies. Not everyone who wears a Roman uniform or throws a Roman lance is necessarily a friend of Rome — as Subulcus discovered yesterday, I hear. Someone told him that I wanted him — a military messenger, he said, but there was no such messenger as far as I can tell. My nephew did not see one, and he was quickly on the scene.’ He broke off, frowning. ‘Where is he, anyway?’ He turned to the young woman who had served the mead. ‘Fetch me Thullero. He went to tend the horses in the farthest field, but he should be here by now.’
She dropped a hasty bob. ‘At once, Ny- Kiminiros.’ She gave him an anxious look and scuttled off.
The exchange had been in Celtic and something in the way she spoke his name reminded me of what I’d suspected at the gate. ‘So they call you Nyros, do they, in the family, just as Tholiramanda uses a shortened Latin name? Perhaps you could tell us about the property you own, and which you rent to Lyra in the town? In the street of the oil-lamp sellers, I believe?’
Nyros’s face did not alter by a muscle, but even in the firelight I could see his eyes grow cold and glittering. ‘By the sun god, pavement-maker, you are astonishingly well informed.’
‘And so are you,’ I countered. ‘When I introduced myself, as I recall, I gave you just my name. But you have called me “pavement-maker” twice. How did you know what my profession was?’
Again that glittering stare bored into me, and then he smiled. ‘You have a keen mind, my friend. But there is no mystery. You were on the way to Isca, I believe? One of my family has a contact with the legion there, and it was well known that you and your distinguished patron here were going to visit the garrison — at the invitation of the commanding officer, I hear. And you are to be invited to lay a pavement there. It was quite the talk of Isca for a time. As for the property in Venta, it is mine, as you suggest. It came into my possession when a kinsman died, along with other buildings in the block. It was already let out to the tenant, and since it brings me rent I have continued with the lease. There is nothing particularly unusual in that. But few people outside this household know of it. How did you come to discover it?’
I was about to answer frankly that I’d seen the tax records when the young girl burst into the meeting room again. Her clothes were rumpled and her hair had tumbled from its combs, and she was red-faced and panting as she said, ‘Nyros, I am to tell you. I found the land-slave down there on his own. There has been another raid. All the horses have been taken — ridden off or driven into the forest by a group of men. It seems they all had swords.’
He was very still. ‘And Thullero?’
‘He isn’t hurt, just taken by surprise. But — oh, forgive me, Kiminiros — he’s gone off after them!’
Chapter Sixteen
For a moment we all remained frozen where we were, startled into immobility by this turn of events. The optio was first to spring to life. He set the remnants of his drink aside and jumped to his feet, suddenly all military efficiency.
‘We must alert our escort. We have mounted soldiers with us, after all. They can track these rebellious rascals down — and bring them back to justice. Never fear, Silurian, the thieves will not get far. And we will bring your Thullero back to you.’
The old man had half risen to his feet. ‘Subulcus will show you where the horse field is.’ He sounded as if he were half dazed with shock.
‘Then I will go and see to it at once.’ The optio turned to Marcus. ‘With your permission, Excellence?’ He scarcely waited for my patron to agree before he left the room, and we heard the clatter of his hobnails as he ran towards the gate.
Marcus was muttering vaguely to himself. He was obviously shaken. ‘Another raid?’ he said aloud. ‘Great Minerva! So close! And with all our soldiers in the forest, too. The rebels must have seen us. They were obviously hiding out nearby if they planned to raid this farm. The scoundrels get more daring by the day.’ He swallowed what was in his cup — looked pained, as if he had forgotten it was mead — and rose slowly to his feet. He looked at me. ‘It’s a wonder that they did not ambush us.’
Nyros was still looking very strained but he spoke with a courteous dignity. ‘Perhaps it is their intention to do that next. After all, they have more horses now — that will make it easier for them to strike. Of course, you have an escort. . Why, what is it, child?’ This last to the girl who had brought in the message, who had thrown herself down on the bench beside the wall and was now sobbing silently.
She looked up at his words. ‘The horses,’ she managed, through her tears. ‘And Thullero. Will he. . will he be safe?’
‘We will have to pray so,’ he returned. ‘I shall make a special offering this evening at the sacred-’ I was sure that he was going to name the oak, but he recalled himself in time. He glanced at Marcus. ‘. . at the scared shrine. As for the horses. .’ He shook his head. ‘It will take more than prayers and sacrifice to replace those, I think.’
I looked at him with sudden sympathy. His voice had been a little less than steady as he spoke and it was clear that he was struggling with some deep inner emotion, though he contrived to keep his face expressionless. Obviously the mastery of feelings was a manly virtue here — even the girl had seemed ashamed to weep. Yet this raid would surely be a dreadful loss to them. We Celts have always valued horses above all things, and if I had lost a single one I should have wept. To lose all the animals one had was unimaginable.
The old man sighed. He turned to Marcus. ‘If I may make the suggestion, citizens, I know you wish to speak to Thullero, but it might be wiser if you did not wait. Safer for you, if these raiders know you’re here, and — forgive me — safer for my household too.’
My patron looked uneasy. ‘You may well be right. This is no place to linger in. And it is getting late. Better if we rejoin our escort and go on, if we propose to get to Isca before dark.’
‘That is a long journey. You should eat. Are you sure I can’t offer you some venison before you go?’ Nyros might be troubled and wish that we would leave, but we were guests beneath his roof and traditional hospitality demanded that he made the offer all the same.
My patron shook his head. I could see him calculating the risk now that some of our escort had been sent off in pursuit of the horse-thieves. ‘Safer if we make a move, I think. We do not have our mounted outriders, but the rest of our group will be sufficient guard, and I still have my own mounted bodyguard. Doubtless all our marching troops are down in the valley by the spring, Libertus?’ I nodded. They would have been taking advantage of the opportunity to rest, enjoying their bread and water at the well, until this unexpected news broke. ‘Tell the optio to bring them up and make them ready to move on again.’
Nyros must have been relieved at this proof that we proposed to leave, though he tried to hide it. ‘Don’t take unnecessary risks. You, or some member of your retinue, would be a considerable prize, if they could capture you. Or even. .’ Or even kill you, was what he did not say.
I glimpsed the look on Marcus’s face and knew that, like me, he had heard the stories of what had happened to the legionary soldiers who had been set upon and killed in these woods on previous occasions: their heads were cut off and stuck triumphantly on poles, for men to scoff at as they passed. That in itself was an unpleasant thought, but I suddenly remembered what Cupidus had said about his ancestors, when they had fallen into the hands of tribesmen hereabouts — something about having your private parts cut off and stuffed into your mouth. I felt myself grow pale. No wonder Nyros spoke about ‘atrocities’.