“What’s unwise in suspecting an acknowledged thief of dishonesty?” Quintilius replied. “It’d be a fool who’d trust you!”
“Oh, Hercules!” groaned Longus.
I looked at Pervica. “Lady, is this man your friend?”
“He is an old friend of my husband’s,” she said earnestly, “and he’s been very worried ever since he heard about you. I told you that there have been various stories about your people which have frightened many people. Please excuse him.”
“I excuse him, then, for your sake,” I said. “But, Quintilius, I would ask you to remember that we are both guests of this lady. You should not insult her guests in her house, out of respect for her, if you have none for them or yourself.”
“If I’d had any say in it, she’d never have allowed you into the house in the first place.” The masterful tone had become a bellow.
“But you had no say in it, and I am here. It seems to me that the lady is quite capable of managing her own affairs.”
Longus leaned back, shaking his head in amazement. Pervica gave me a look I couldn’t interpret, and began discussing the set price with Eukairios-hurriedly, before Quintilius could begin again. It didn’t take them long to work one out.
“So,” I said, when they’d finished, “I may tell the legate that you agree to the scheme, provided you get at least this much?”
“Yes,” she said firmly.
“No,” said Eukairios. “You’ll have to tell him she wants at least ten denarii more. He’ll expect to beat her down, my lord.”
Pervica and I looked at each other. I spread open my hands. “Trust Eukairios.”
“I believe I would,” she told me, smiling. “Now, how many horses do you think the farm could take? You’ll have to tell him that as well, and I’ve no experience in horse-rearing.”
“Pervica, you must not accept this scheme!” exclaimed Quintilius. “As your husband’s oldest associate and your closest adviser, I forbid it!”
Pervica got to her feet. “Cinhil,” she said evenly, “I’ve been grateful for your help, over the years, and for your patience about the money. I’ve heard your advice and I respect it. But I’m quite certain that we have nothing to fear from Ariantes-and for that matter, he’s proposing a scheme that would be administered by the office of the legate of the Sixth Legion, not himself. I can see absolutely no reason to reject it untried.”
Quintilius was on his feet as well, towering over her. “Pervica,” he began, “out of respect for Saenus…”-then stopped. For a moment he looked not so much angry as confused and betrayed. It was clear from the lady’s calm resolution that she wouldn’t obey his order, and he couldn’t enforce it. Then the anger came back, hotter and wilder, and he turned to me. “No!” he exclaimed angrily. “You’ve fooled the lady into thinking you’re harmless, but she’s not without friends. I forbid you to come here. Take your men and get out!”
I stayed where I was. “Lady,” I said, to Pervica, “does he speak with your authority?”
“No,” she answered, but she’d gone pale and looked distressed. “No. Cinhil, please…”
I got to my feet. I was taller than Quintilius, which was satisfying. “Do you wish to fight me, then?” I asked him.
At that he went pale as well, but he was resolute. “Yes,” he declared, “if it’s man to man, and you’ll take those gilded fish scales off.”
I took off my coat and began undoing the buckles on my armor.
“Please!” said Pervica. “Please don’t! Ariantes, he isn’t a soldier, you mustn’t fight him!”
“Ariantes,” said Longus, “look, I know he wants to-we can all swear to that-but if you kill him, they’ll still have to at least formally charge you with murder, and I don’t like to think what your men would do if we tried to arrest you. In the name of all the gods, leave him be!”
“Do not be anxious,” I told them. “I will try not to harm him.” I unfastened my baldric, set the sword on the table, and pulled off the scale armor cuirass. The woollen shirt and trousers I wore underneath the armor were only light ones; it would be a cold fight. “Do you have your arms with you?” I asked Quintilius.
He licked his lips. “N-no.”
“You may borrow my sword, then.” I unfastened the belt of the armored trousers and began taking them off as well.
Quintilius picked up the sword, which was very like a Roman spatha, the long slashing sword of the cavalryman. The hilt was gold, with a dragon’s head set with rubies forming a ring-clip on the end. He put his hand around it tentatively and drew it from the sheath; the blade gleamed with the serpent pattern of fine steel. He looked at it as though it might bite him.
“Is it too long?” I asked, setting the armored trousers beside the cuirass.
“I… I said I’d fight you. It will do.”
“I am sorry if you prefer the short sword. I have none. Do you prefer to fight on horseback or on foot?”
“On foot,” he whispered.
“Please!” repeated Pervica. “Please, this is pointless! Pointless! Cinhil, in the name of all the gods, apologize!”
“I’m going to fight the bastard here and now!” shouted Quintilius, abruptly going red again.
“I won’t have men killing each other on my property!”
Quintilius simply ignored that. He pushed his way out, through the door that led into the kitchen and the back of the house.
“Would you prefer it if we went up to the road?” I asked Pervica.
“No! I’d prefer it if you didn’t fight at all!”
“We must fight now. There is a code in such matters, and I at least could not back out without disgrace.”
“And what about the disgrace to me?”
“Lady, I swear on fire there will be no disgrace to you. I have been insulted and I will defend my honor, but the responsibility for that is not yours, but his. I must go before he says something stupid to my men as well.”
I hurried out, through the kitchen and into the backyard. My men had made themselves a shelter against the wind with some straw moved from the barn, built a fire in a sandy corner, and the cups and bowls of beer testified that they’d been relaxing comfortably. But they were all on their feet now and glaring at Quintilius, who was standing in front of the door clutching my sword nervously in both hands.
“Wait one minute,” I told him. “I will make them swear not to harm you if you should win.”
I pushed past him, went over to my men, and explained the situation to them. They were pleased-he had offended their sense of my dignity-and they grinned at each other and offered me their swords. I made them stretch their hands over the fire and swear that they would not harm my opponent or do any damage to his cattle, family, or property, in the event of my losing the contest. This done, I went back to the door. Quintilius had been joined by the others. Longus just looked resigned now, but Pervica and Eukairios were distressed.
“If you wish, we will go off your land and fight alone,” I offered Pervica.
“Not knowing what was happening would be even worse,” she answered wretchedly. “Please…”
Quintilius slashed the air with my sword, still holding it two-handed. The hilt was really too short for this, and he had to overlap his hands to manage it, but I supposed he was used to holding some weapon like that. “You haven’t borrowed another sword,” he said, harshly.
“No,” I answered. “Do you require any other arms?”
“Come on! Let’s get it over with! Go borrow a sword!”
I went back to my men and asked for a dagger. Their faces lit up, and they ran to fetch a coil of rope as well.
“Just a dagger,” I said, and the glee ebbed away. There was a moment of horrified silence as they realized I meant it.
“Take a coil of rope as well, my lord, please!” said Leimanos. “That at least!”
“He isn’t a warrior,” I told them. “A lasso and a dagger against a sword is almost even odds, and where would the glory be in that? Give me the dagger, and remember what you swore.”