Satisfied, he stepped slowly and carefully to the entrance of the chapel and peered around the wall. The laughter continued to issue from the lit area further on, but the corridor was empty. Taking another deep breath, he stepped out and turned the other way, carefully and slowly making his way up the first, short flight of stairs.
Under his breath, he continued to mutter prayers to Cernus and any other God that he could name that he make it to the stables unobserved. In retrospect, he should have asked Varro to come with him. The captain couldn’t have carried anything, but he could have acted as lookout.
He reached the top step and turned, peering carefully around the corner. Nothing. He stopped and listened. The now-distant sound of laughter behind him down the stairs. Somewhere up ahead was the sound of tramping military boots. Two pairs by the sound of it. Well he couldn’t stay in the stairs. He’d just have to hope they were in some other side tunnel.
He stepped out into the corridor and moved along it as fast as he could, his footfalls soft and delicate for a man his size. For a moment, he uttered a quiet curse, as Corda’s body slipped on his shoulder and almost fell. He jerked his shoulder to reposition it and changed his grip on the corpse’s wrist.
The corridor seemed to go one forever, but finally, the next junction came into sight. As he approached it, he paused for a moment and listened. Those heavy footsteps were now worryingly close; coming from the other branch to the one he needed, but too close for comfort. He held his breath and sank against the wall of the tunnel in as much shadow as he could manage, given the bulk on his shoulders.
A few moments passed and he let his breath escape with a quiet hiss. The steps were going the other way, disappearing off down the corridor.
He shook his head in amazement. Just over a week ago the most exciting thing he’d ever done was oversee the assembly of a giant bolt thrower while scores of enemy stood on the opposite ridge. Now here he was stealing corpses from the dungeons of the greatest Imperial fortress in the north. Astounding. How the hell had he got himself involved in this?
With another deep breath, he settled the two figures draped over his shoulders and stepped out into the next corridor. Ahead, he could see the pale grey glow of natural light. He was getting close to the stairs. Just one more corner.
Slowly, with breath held, he approached that corner, feeling the seconds pass like hours. There was no sound from ahead, but his heart took no notice of the fact and continued to race, regardless.
He turned the corner.
Nothing there. Just dank stairs leading up into the gloom.
Slowly, he climbed the stairs, pausing every now and then to take a breath. The two bodies may be light, but even so, their weight was beginning to make his sore and short of breath. Finally he reached the top and paused again to listen. Distant sounds; from beyond the door, out in the palace proper. Damn it!
As quietly as he could, he padded along the corridor until he was only around ten paces from the door. Very, very slowly and quietly, he lowered the two corpses to the floor and approached the door. He listened.
Just one man. He was down by the bottom of the door, speaking softly. Salonius retrieved the key from his pocket as he strained to hear.
“I’ll have to go report it!”
“Not yet. Let’s go find him. If I get another black mark, I’ll be sent to a frontier post! It’s only one man and we’ve got the jump on him now.”
“No, Marco, I’ve got to report it!”
“Listen: imagine how good we’ll look when we bring him in!”
Salonius smiled as he inserted the key into the lock with incredible slowness and began to turn it, waiting for each new line in the argument to help mask the sound of the key turning. He felt the pressure release as the lock completely opened. With a wide grin, he pictured the scene beyond the door and very slowly turned the handle. As the latch slid free, he almost laughed out loud. Stepping back a few paces, he turned his shoulder toward the door and ran.
The impact made his shoulder feel as though it had exploded, but the effect was much as he’d hoped. The door burst open into the room beyond, hitting the guard crouched behind it with tremendous force and a loud crack. As he sailed on through, Salonius brought himself to a halt as sharply as he could. The new guard had been hit in the forehead by the door and thrown back. The guard who was still recovering from Salonius’ entry five or six minutes ago was by the wall behind the door, which had come to a stop as it thumped into his shoulder. Salonius turned the second guard over with his foot. The huge red welt and wound on his forehead suggested he would be out for some time.
The other guard was mouthing things with a frightened look on his face. Salonius gave him a grin that he hoped was as feral as the one he kept seeing on Varro. The guard quailed.
“I’m a little concerned that I’ve done a bit too much damage to your friend here. So we’re going to make a deal, yes?”
The guard nodded, wide eyed and terrified.
“Good,” Salonius continued. “I’m not going to knock you out because you need to help your friend. I’m going to collect my things and walk slowly and quietly out of here. You’re going to wait at least ten minutes after I’ve gone, during which time you can do your best to stop his wound bleeding. Once ten minutes is up, you can shout for help, run, or whatever it is you want to do. Just not until I’m away from here. And if I hear anything as I leave, I will come back here and leave you in… let’s just say a ‘worse’ condition, eh?”
The guard gave another frightened nod and from somewhere within found a tiny voice.
“Why are you doing this? You’re one of the marshal’s men.”
Salonius smiled.
“Not quite. I’m under the marshal’s command, but I’m one of Varro’s men. Not stay quiet.”
Biting his lip, hoping he’d done the right thing, Salonius stood and returned to the corridor beyond the portal. There he spent a moment collecting the two corpses and settling them as comfortably as possible on his shoulders. It was not easy. His left shoulder ached painfully. It was possible he’d chipped the bone on the door. There’ll be a hell of a bruise.
‘Ah well’, he thought, as he carried the two bodies through the door and stopped for a moment. He turned to the seated guard and put his finger to his lips.
“Shhhh.”
The guard gave another nod, staring with wide eyes at the hulking brute and his grisly burden. Salonius gave the grin again and walked off.
Catilina stopped a few steps from the junction in the corridor. She watched Varro limp off slowly toward the guest quarters and Salonius striding off into the depths of the palace. Putting her finger to her mouth, she tapped her elegantly manicured nail on her ruby lip, deep in thought.
After a moment a smile slowly spread across her face, ending in a broad grin.
Changing her direction, she padded off along the corridor that Salonius had taken, then selected a side-corridor and stepped into it. A few more turns and junctions that she’d known well since childhood, and she arrived at the offices of the garrison clerks. She’d played here often as a girl, since the clerks always had plenty of materials to draw with. Many happy hours had been spent sitting at the desk in these four offices and drawing pictures of animals and cloudy skies. She smiled and glanced up and down the corridor at the four offices. There were four chief clerks of the fortress, each in charge of one aspect of administration, and several lesser clerks beneath them. Each office housed desks for six people, but they were rarely occupied by more than one or two at a time, their duties often taking them elsewhere in the fortress or into the civilian town.
Smiling, she peered at the office doors that stood open or ajar. Two were brightly lit, one with a low light and one dark. Sadly, the empty, dark office was the only one that would be of no use to her. The office at the far left, however, was clearly lit by only one guttering oil lamp. That meant only one occupant. She squared her shoulders and strode along the corridor and boldly through the door.