“We will ride on slowly; catch us up,” I said, and turned to go. Just at the door, I remembered another thing I had meant to say, and turned back. “Comittus, Facilis-thank you for vouching for me to the legate.”
“What were we supposed to do?” asked Facilis in his usual harsh voice. “Lie?” But he was smiling again.
The ride to Corstopitum did not tire me too badly and we arrived to find the town peaceful. (Most of the troops, both Sarmatians and Priscus’ legionaries, were camped outside the city, as there wasn’t space for them inside.) I left my escort at the stables in the military compound and went to the commandant’s house, where Comittus and I announced ourselves to the slaves. I asked where Eukairios was, but nobody seemed to know. A nervous pay-and-a-half clerk said that he had been billeted in the commandant’s house, but that he wasn’t there anymore. They were sending out runners to find him when Priscus himself appeared.
“Huh!” he said, scowling at me. “So there you are. What happened to you? They said they pulled you out of the river.”
“Greetings, my lord legate,” I replied. “They said the same to me. I do not remember it.”
“Huh!” he said again. “Well, at least you’re alive. Your advice has been wanted. The fellow you put in charge of the fourth dragon has been full of complaints about supplies, and everyone seems to agree that you’d find a way to satisfy him. Come into my office. I’ll summon him and Gaius Valerius, and we’ll go over it all. Lucius Javolenus, did you need to see me?”
“No, sir. I only came to Corstopitum to fetch some things, but of course, if you have anything for me to do…”
“Go tell Siavacus and Valerius that Ariantes is here and they’re to come at once.”
“Yes, my lord. Uh…”
Priscus didn’t wait for the question, but stamped off into the building. I followed the legate into his office-or rather, the prefect of the Thracians’ office, which Priscus had taken over-and perched uncomfortably on the three-legged stool he’d indicated when he seated himself in the chair. (I would have preferred the floor, but knew it would embarrass us both.)
I was glad the officers of the fourth dragon had to be summoned; I had another matter I wanted to discuss. “My lord legate,” I began carefully, “I have been giving thought to the matter we discussed a few days ago.”
“What?” he exclaimed. “You worry about your men’s pay even when you’re drowning?”
Very likely I did give him what Longus had described as an if-you-think-it’s-amusing twist of the mouth. “I considered the problem of the horses as I was recovering.”
He gave a snort. “What about the horses?”
“Do you remember, my lord, why I was reluctant to sell the additional ones we own?”
“You said that the poorest man you commanded had once owned a dozen horses, and had two, and the richest once owned over a thousand, and had six. You thought it would be humiliating and distressing to them to lose any more. Distressing or not, Commander, the province of Britain cannot pay for barbarian numeri to keep six horses just to satisfy their vanity.”
“That was one reason, my lord. I had another one.”
He sighed. “And I must admit, the second was a bit more compelling than the first. You don’t approve of native breeds of horse, and you want to keep those you have for breeding.”
“The British horses, my lord, with a few exceptions, are not large enough to carry the armor. And the exceptions are extremely expensive. The dragon could not afford to purchase enough of them.”
“Very well-but you know the rules. We do not let Roman troops engage in farming while on active service-and that includes Sarmatians taking time out to breed horses.”
“Sir, the horses we have are in their prime. In a few years they will be past that prime and aging quickly. Without sufficient horses of good quality, we cannot use our armor. If we are to function at all, we must begin breeding the animals at once. Now, my lord, the thing I was considering was this. I understand that the army can lease out property to private companies, that in fact this is done with land used to provide supplies. Could we not lease out some of the horses to a suitable private farm? The breeding stock would remain ours, but the farm would feed and care for the beasts, and in return receive a set price for the offspring.”
Priscus looked at me for a minute, rubbing a hand thoughtfully against his chin. “Did you think of that yourself?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re a pretty damned odd barbarian. Yes, that’s an excellent idea. We could fix a price that would make it worth the farm’s while, but still be well below the market value of your bloodstock. If we had any foals surplus, we could sell them at a handsome profit. It’s an excellent idea. But wouldn’t your men be distressed and humiliated at this as well?”
“No. We are accustomed to… let out… our cattle. I had horses with every man in the dragon: they cared for them, I picked out some of the offspring, and they kept the rest. The men will understand it at once. But, my lord, we would have to give some of them leave to visit any farms that were chosen, to teach the British owners how to handle the animals, and to assist in the autumn when the mares are covered and in spring when the foals are born. We have not been impressed at how well the Britons handle horses.”
Priscus gave a harsh laugh. “Setting your men horserearing by the back door, eh? Well, if it’s just a few men, and just spring and autumn… we’d be hard-pressed to find the stud farms to manage such pedigreed beasts otherwise.”
“I have found one, possibly,” I said, coming to the point that had given me the idea in the first place. “The place where I was brought when they took me out of the river. The previous owner had purchased a very fine stallion, intending to use it for stud, but he died before fulfilling his intention, and his widow does not have the skill to complete it. They have some good grazing land, though, and some people who could learn horse breeding. I believe the lady who now owns the farm would be interested in such a proposal. I was to see her in a few days, about the stallion, which she wishes to sell. If it is acceptable to you, I could put this suggestion to her then.”
Priscus laughed again. “You don’t waste your time, do you? Lying there, fresh from drowning, and planning to invest in horseflesh. Jupiter! Eh, Bodica, my dear!” I turned on my stool, and there indeed was the legate’s lady, stopped in the office door and staring at me wide-eyed with a look not so much of surprise as of outrage.
“Come in!” her husband told her jovially. “Here’s Ariantes back, alive and fit and with a very clever way to pay for all his horses.”
Bodica smiled at Priscus and came into the office. I stood and bowed my head to her in greeting; when I raised my eyes, I caught the look of murderous hatred she shot me while her face was turned from her husband’s. I knew, as soon as I saw it, that we’d met on the road from Condercum. The meeting was still hidden in the fog that covered my memory, but I could sense it there now. It was a relief. It hadn’t made any sense that I’d fought Arshak and ended up in the river without a mark on me.
“Lord Ariantes,” she said, sitting down on her husband’s desk. “I confess, I never expected to see you alive again.”
“No,” I replied. “I myself believed I was dead, two days ago. And I can still remember nothing between leaving Condercum and waking half-drowned. I live by the kindness of the gods.” I did not want a contest with her yet, and wanted her to know that. I still had no proof, and I suspected that even memory would afford me no proof-not the kind of proof I would need to convince the legate that his adored young wife was guilty of treason. The bare word of a man who’d been threatened with demotion and even flogging for “causing trouble” would clearly not be enough.
Bodica gave me another glare of rage and loathing, then looked quickly away before her husband could notice. “What is this clever plan about horses?” she asked.