He sighed again and, pulling out the uncomfortable wooden chair, collapsed into it while he waited for the lad. He found himself once more musing on Darius and his background. If the boy really was Caerdin’s son and had even a fraction of his father’s wit and talent, which he appeared to do, he was truly wasted locked away on this island. Hell, had things been different, another ten years would probably have seen Sabian serving under him . Smiling at that last thought he drummed his fingers on the table and stopped for a moment. One thing he hadn’t noticed before was the mark on the table. Something else had been standing on the table very recently, as there was a small circular patch among the dust. He shrugged; probably just a mug or glass.
He sat staring at the table for a few more minutes until the sound of several footsteps appeared in the corridor and Cialo and Iasus entered the room, coming to attention and saluting the moment they were inside. Sabian nodded and beckoned them forward, surprised to see behind them not only Darius but Favio, the island’s doctor. He glared at Darius and raised on eyebrow. The young man just shrugged.
“He was looking for you anyway.”
With a squaring of the shoulders, Sabian stood up.
“Well as long as you’re here Favio,” he addressed the doctor, “you might as well have a look at the body and tell me what you think. But,” he added “what we say goes no further than the walls of this room.” As Darius and the doctor wandered over to the body, Sabian examined the sergeants. Since they’d been here there was a notable change in his men. Cialo’s only concession now to his uniform were the tunic and belt and he looked every inch the engineer. A stylus rested behind his ear and a wax tablet stuck out of his belt. He was covered in dust and spattered plaster which matted his hair in places. It was hard to look at the ageing sergeant and not smile. Iasus on the other hand was still in his armour and had polished it every night by the look of it. One might think he hadn’t changed, but to those who knew him… He had a few days growth of facial hair and, despite beards being quite fashionable these days, Sabian had never seen him other than clean shaven. His helmet was tucked under his arm, but instead of the traditional skull cap beneath, a bandanna of crimson silk was wrapped around his forehead. And most of all, he smiled occasionally. That had never happened much. For a moment Sabian wondered what changes the others saw in their commander, but pulled himself together and tried to ignore the tutting and muttering of the island’s doctor as he spoke.
“Ursus was one of your men Iasus, yes?”
“Sir” Iasus nodded confirmation.
“But he was working as an engineer under you, yes Cialo?”
The older sergeant nodded.
“What was he doing here?” the commander queried. “You’ve only been working for a couple of hours.”
Cialo dropped from attention and addressed Sabian. “He was supposed to be hunting around for old damaged plaster sir.”
Sabian frowned. “Damaged plaster?”
“Yessir,” the sergeant went on. “Old plaster can be used as part of a base for mortar. He and a couple of the others are bringing me sack loads of old plaster from all over the island. Anywhere things have fallen down. We’ll be using it in the mortar mix for the repairs to the baths.”
Sabian nodded. “That explains him being here, but not what happened. I don’t like this at all. You see this lamp…” he began but his voice trailed off as the muttering of Doctor Favio intensified and distracted him.
“Doctor, could you kindly keep your voice down.”
Favio grumbled and beckoned to the commander with a finger. Biting his tongue to stop himself shouting at the insolent man, Sabian leaned down toward them.
“What is it, Favio?”
Favio shook his head. “What did your doctor tell you?” he enquired, heaping sarcasm on the word.
“That he was attacked by someone untrained in martial combat, there was a fair struggle and finally someone managed to break his neck. I can see the marks and the broken neck for myself.”
Favio continued to shake his head. “Begging your pardon commander, but that’s a whole heap of horse shit and unless your man was trained by a blind beggar with the mental capability of a sewer turd he knows it.”
Sabian glowered at him.
“Go on…”
The doctor smiled. “Someone’s trying to pull the wool over your eyes commander. This man was dead at least a half an hour before his neck was broken and all these bruises made.”
Sabian leaned forward. His dark countenance had gone replaced by one of concern. “Are you sure of that Favio?”
The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. If you’ll let me examine him properly, I’ll tell you how he died too; my instruments are all in my clinic.”
Sabian gestured back at Cialo and Iasus without even turning to look at them. “Take Ursus,” he ordered the pair. ”Follow the doctor and let him do whatever the hell it is he needs to do. Iasus, you stay with him while he does it. Cialo, meet us at the bath house. You and I and young Darius here are going to check something out.” He added as an afterthought “and try not to be seen carrying Ursus. No one says anything about this.”
The room burst into life as the two sergeants and the doctor collected the body of the soldier and carried him from the room. Darius was making for the door when Sabian called out to him and he turned.
“Darius, I want you to go find the doctor from Velutio. You and I and Cialo are going to have a little talk with him. Bring him down to the bath house. I don’t really care what excuse you use.”
With a nasty smile, young Darius carried out an elaborate sweeping bow and left the room. Sabian cracked his knuckles and then shuddered. It was a habit he thought he managed to break, that. Whatever was going on here, if the Favio was right, then Velutio’s doctor had something to do with it. However Favio might talk or treat people, he really did seem to be an excellent doctor. He suddenly realised that Darius had said Favio was looking for him. Still, that could wait until later.
With a hard smile that closely matched Darius’, Sabian left the room and made his way down the stairs. If the doctor was involved in any underhanded business, the commander would deal with it and do it his way and as soon as possible. He trotted along the hallways and across the courtyards until he reached the soft, springy turf of the gardens and strode down the hill and through the Water Gate. The bath house was surrounded by wooden scaffolding and ropes and buckets and myriad tools lay strewn about. Cialo had been busy already it seemed. As he neared the entrance to the baths he almost smiled to note that the unpleasant smell of musty decay had died away a little. Cialo would have drained the baths first no doubt. A long plank of wood led down into the baths themselves, covering the various places where the floor had given way to the dark tunnels between the supporting pillars of the underfloor heating. At the doorway to the changing room, still close enough to the entrance to admit the low light of a sunset now all but over, two oil lamps stood in niches by the arch. Smiling, Sabian lit the lamps and moved into the room. The wide space was covered with tools and clothing and the various bric-a-brac of workmen. The niches for storing the bathers’ clothing was filled with unidentifiable items, along with sawn planks and scribbled plans and notes. Cialo really was taking his work seriously. The commander wandered across to one of the less occupied niches and carefully moved its contents into the next one before taking a seat. Mere moments later, Cialo strode into the room and nodded.
“Sir. Got some news from the quack”. He rolled his eyes upwards as though repeating a list he’d been made to memorize. “He said to tell you that Ursus’ tongue was all swollen up and a right funny colour. He reckons he drank something poisonous, but he’s not sure what yet. He’ll let you know what he finds.”