The optio said gently, ‘I’ve told them about us. That you come here to visit me, and that I instruct the guard to let you in and out. It’s no good pretending that you don’t know who I am.’
A pause, and then she allowed her face to fall into dismay. ‘In that case I am sorry for the embarrassment. And I withdraw everything I said about this soldier here. If he heard that I was working in the place, his behaviour is entirely understandable. Obviously he thought I was for hire.’ She flashed the guard in question another of her smiles, and he was sufficiently bemused to look relieved. ‘I’ll see he gets a special rate, next time he comes to see my girls.’ She turned reproachful eyes towards the optio. ‘I thought I was protecting your career, and now it seems you have got me into trouble with your authorities.’
‘Lyra,’ the optio said plaintively, ‘that doesn’t matter now. They’ll discipline me, probably, but that’s not why they’re here. They want to question you about your property. Just tell them what they want to know, and they will let you go.’
‘Very well.’ She turned to Marcus. ‘I hire a building from a landlord, and run it as a licensed brothel. He knows the use I put it to, and doesn’t care. He’s only interested in the rent. Is that in contravention of the law?’
Marcus and the optio looked at me. After all, this interview was my idea. ‘But you own a property yourself?’ I said. ‘Over on the bath-house side of town. Close to where I spoke to you the other day.’
That startled her, but she recovered well. She smiled. ‘It isn’t suitable for what I want,’ she said. ‘Our customers don’t like that area. But I still have relatives who live nearby, and I often visit them.’
‘Including the butcher who’s your patron? I hear you own his shop.’
‘He’s a sort of relative,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to use the place myself, but he has children and is glad of it. I charge him very little rent, and in return he looks after me — speaks up for me in court, gets rid of undesirable customers, and all that sort of thing.’
‘And does he visit Nyros, who’s your landlord, too? Is that what he was doing on the forest road?’
She stiffened. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I can’t help who my relations are. Optimus, why are you letting him talk to me like this? You know what my brother’s like. I can’t ask him questions about where he goes and why. I suppose he goes there to deliver meat.’
So the butcher was her brother! I had rattled her this time. She clearly hadn’t meant to tell us that. I could see that Optimus was about to intervene, and I quickly slipped another question in. ‘Does he deliver information, too, perhaps? About the fact that Gaius Plautus is with Nyros now, for instance? I’m sure the rebels in the forest would be glad to know.’
She had turned deathly pale. ‘Optimus! Protect me! I don’t know what he means. What is he alleging that I’ve done?’
He had half risen to his feet in his concern for her. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is not to do with you. It’s about some man from Glevum who has disappeared. They were looking through the tax records in case they found his name, and they discovered that Nyros owned your property, that’s all.’ He glared at me. ‘Though I don’t know exactly what he hopes to gain by this. Are all these questions really necessary? I’m sure Lyra has told us everything she knows.’
It was the other way round, I thought. He had told her everything he knew. And now she would be truly on her guard. I was proving nothing and if I was not careful Marcus would decide to call a halt. It was time to try my other strategy.
‘You’re right,’ I said, more gently. ‘The lady is distressed. She has had a shock this evening. Junio, fetch a stool for her and let her have a little of that wine.’
Her head went up suspiciously. ‘Wine? What wine?’
‘A little of the wine you had before,’ I said. ‘You were feeling quite ill until you had a sip, and though you were a little faint at first, you were entirely recovered shortly afterwards. Luckily, when you dropped the cup, it lodged against the wall so not all of it was spilt. Do have a little more.’
Junio had seen what I was up to, and he brought the cup and offered it to Lyra with a smile.
‘I don’t require any wine,’ she said. She was breathing heavily and refused to take the goblet from his hand.
‘Do have some, Lyra,’ the optio urged. ‘It will do you good. It is the very wine you particularly like. I sent it for the citizen myself.’
She looked desperately from me to him. ‘This is some kind of trap.’
‘Trap?’ I repeated. ‘How can it be a trap? Unless you know something about the wine that we do not. Soldier,’ I added, to the larger guard, who was still standing to attention by the door. ‘Assist the lady to refresh herself.’
The optio was standing up by now, and would have moved to interrupt, but Marcus put out a restraining hand. ‘I am interested in this,’ he said. ‘I wonder why she’s so reluctant to comply?’ He nodded to the soldier. ‘Do as the citizen suggests.’
The soldier took the wine from Junio. He seized Lyra, imprisoning her arms, and forced the cup against her lips. She twisted violently and turned her head away. The man did not release his grip, but turned towards me enquiringly.
‘Very well,’ I said to her. ‘We’ll have some answers now. If I am not satisfied with what you say, I’ll give the word, and you can drink the poison that you meant for me.’
The optio sat down heavily. ‘Poison?’ he repeated stupidly. ‘What is this? Lyra? What does it mean?’
‘It means that she has played you for a fool,’ I said. ‘She flatters you with blandishments and all the time she is betraying your secrets to the rebel groups marauding in the woods. She gets the information to the butcher — who she admits now is her brother, not some distant relative — and he passes the messages to them when he goes out with his cart. And disposes of grisly evidence, I suspect — you told me yourself how easy it would be and how a butcher’s clothes are always splashed with blood. And did you not say to me that attacks on goods and soldiers had increased again recently, as if the rebels were in touch with your every move?’
The optio had turned the colour of bad milk. ‘It isn’t true. Lyra, tell me that it isn’t true.’
‘You can prove nothing,’ she said defiantly. I signalled to the guard. He forced the cup towards her face again. ‘All right!’ she cried suddenly. ‘It’s true! What difference does it make? You’ll kill me anyway.’ She looked at the optio and sneered. ‘What makes you suppose I’d care anything for you? Your vanity, perhaps! Pompous little self-important idiot. Well, I tricked you, and I’m glad I did. I hope they send you to the Wall and keep you there for life — or better still, condemn you to the mines. With any luck they will, when they find out what you’ve done. All those details about troops and funds, and what a trial it was to deal with messengers.’ She was mocking now. ‘“Poor dear Optimus,” I’d murmur — and I’d stroke your hair, and off you’d go again. Well, you can spend what time remains to you reflecting on the damage you have done, and how many men and horses you’ve betrayed to us.’
The optio was hardly listening any more. His mouth was working, but no sound was coming out, and he was staring fixedly at her in disbelief.
She twisted her head savagely to look at me. ‘Well, it’s over now. This is your doing, pavement-maker. They warned me you were trouble — that’s why you had to die. I thought I’d managed it, but you refused the wine. It would have done the trick — even a mouthful is enough to kill, and that would have stopped your meddling once and for all. And as for you,’ she turned on Marcus now, ‘you are the worst of all. A proper Roman, purple stripes and all.’ She spat deliberately at him. ‘Pig! I wish I’d let them kill you yesterday at the farm.’
Marcus had turned pale with rage, and his voice was dangerously controlled. ‘Be very careful what you say. I could have you tortured for a week, after what you’ve admitted here tonight, till you were begging them to let you die.’