“What!” I stopped again, and Facilis stopped, facing me, panting a little.
“I’d said a few kind words to her on the way from Dubris,” he said, “and she turned up at my door last night, the poor little bitch, clutching her baby, and she cried, and she begged me to save the brat and to protect her from her mistress. May the gods destroy me in the worst way if I don’t. I’ve got to get her out of the fortress somehow, and that wagon of yours is the best way I can think of. Nobody’s going to look for her in that.”
“With a baby?” I asked incredulously. “I thought Priscus said she had lost one.”
“She bore a healthy son eight days ago, but her mistress had no use for a baby and tossed it out. The little bastard was the only thing the poor girl had to love in all the world, and she slipped out of her slave’s cell, all bloody from childbirth, and crawled through the streets at night, and found the baby on the dung-heap before it froze, and wrapped it up warmly, and hid it. She’s been running to it every night, to feed it and care for it, but she’s had to leave it in the day to look after that witch’s hair. The little bastard didn’t thrive on the treatment, of course, particularly in this cold weather; in a few days it was clear he’d die without better care, and the girl couldn’t stand it. She ran to me because of a few kind words. May the gods destroy me in the worst way if I give her back!”
“Bodica threw a baby, a healthy, living child, on a dung-heap to die?” I asked in horror.
“Oh gods, Ariantes! They all do that. What else do you do with a slave brat if you don’t want it?”
“Marha! Romans!”
“The baby won’t make much noise,” he said. “It’s a feeble little thing now, and even when it cries you can barely hear it-but she doesn’t let it cry. You don’t need to worry that it would give her away.”
“I will take her out in my wagon,” I said, and began to walk on. “If I am not allowed out, I will see that she escapes somehow. I have allies who might help.”
“You’re allowed out. You’re allowed out tomorrow. Did you really think he was going to imprison you? Hercules! Don’t be an idiot. With a conspiracy boiling away in his half of the province, stirrings across the border, and suspicions attached to all his British senior officers, the last thing he wants is more trouble with your people. And he’s seen a lot more of Sarmatians than he had last September: he knows that if he tried to imprison the prince-commander of a dragon, any dragon, he’d have to imprison his bodyguard as well, and half the men at least, and that would mean a major military operation. He can’t afford that. Besides, you’re the loyal, responsible one: who’s going to help him manage the next four thousand Sarmatians if anything happens to you?”
I stopped again and stared at him. “I do not understand you Romans at all,” I complained. “Why did he threaten to imprison me if he had no intention of doing so?”
“To let you know that he was seriously annoyed with you, of course. You bastards hate lying so much, you don’t understand how we use it. When he asked you to swear that oath, it never even occurred to you to lie, did it?”
“I have never sworn falsely in my life! And with a curse hanging over my head, how could I afford to?”
“That’s what I mean. You’ve Romanized full tilt since you got to Britain, but you’ve been pretty damned careful how you Romanize. So I can put the girl in your wagon?”
“Yes. If I can leave tomorrow, I will do so. You should bring her tonight.”
He beamed at me and clasped my hand. “Thank you. I knew I could rely on you. I’ll bring her at the second watch, when it’s quiet. You’re going to have to tell your men to expect us. With things as they are, anybody they find creeping up to their precious commander’s wagon in the dead of night is likely to be chopped to pieces. Will they accept it? You don’t need to say who I’m stealing the girl from.”
I nodded, then shook my head in bewilderment and began walking again. Just before we reached the stable yard, I thought to ask, “Who is the father of this baby?”
“How would I know?” asked Facilis. “Some guard or groom or slave who said something nice to her once, and dumped her when she got into trouble. She’s not interested in him at all, just the brat.”
When we reached the wagons I told my men that Facilis would come back in the middle of the night, bringing a stolen slave girl and her baby, and explained to them that Romans kill unwanted slave children. They were as horrified by this as I was, and stunned to think that Facilis, whom they still disliked, had the courage and piety to defy his own people’s laws and save them-particularly when they counted off the months and saw that the baby couldn’t possibly be his. For their part, they would have been willing to help even if their commander hadn’t been there to require it, and they grinned at Facilis and slapped him on the back, which disconcerted him.
I slept soundly that night, and woke quickly when the cautious knock sounded on the side of my wagon. I got up, picking up my sword just in case, and found Facilis and Banadaspos standing outside the door, with a shape huddled in a cloak between them. The wagon’s awning was stiff with frost, and rang when my hand brushed it. The moon had set, and it was dark and bitterly cold.
“This is Lord Ariantes,” Facilis whispered to the faceless girl. “He’ll take you out of the city in his wagon tomorrow morning.”
“But… but,” the girl whispered back, soft-voiced and stammering, “but this is the man my lady wishes to kill! She’s tried twice to kill him, and cursed him with death!”
Even in the dark, I saw how Banadaspos stiffened, and I groaned. His Latin had become fairly fluent, and he’d had no trouble understanding. “Banadaspos!” I ordered him quickly, speaking in Sarmatian. “You must not repeat to the others what she just said.”
“My lord,” he shot back, “whose slave was she?”
“If I’d wanted you to know, I’d have told you. I want no trouble between you and the Romans.”
I should have known it was useless to try to avoid the confrontation. “You’re treating us shamefully!” Banadaspos exclaimed furiously, so loudly that there was an answering stir in the wagons around us, as my men woke up and started listening. “You’ve quarreled with Arshak, and the Romans have tried to murder you, and you treat us, your bodyguard, as though we had no right to know anything about it! You go slipping off into the city with Eukairios instead, and plot there with strangers. I am your man, and have been since I took my first scalp. How well I have served you, no one knows better than you yourself. I’ve always been proud of my commander, and prouder to think that I was entrusted with your life. I’ve never been guilty of any disloyalty. I swear it on fire, none of us have! You’ve got no right to treat us like this!”
“Banadaspos!” I exclaimed, jumping down from the wagon and catching his shoulder. “Yes, I have a Roman enemy who’s tried to murder me. And I know you and all the bodyguard are proud and courageous, and would be ashamed to cower before Roman authority when your prince’s life was at stake. That’s the reason I’ve told you nothing. I’ve been afraid where your pride and your courage might lead you-and your loyalty, which I know and trust absolutely.”
“Who is this enemy?” Banadaspos demanded-and then answered himself. “A woman, the girl said. A Roman inside the fortress walls. And a friend of Arshak, whom you’ve quarreled with. The legate’s lady.” He glared through the night at my face. “When she came today, I thought she seemed to hate you, but I put it down to her anger at seeing you manage a horse she’d ruined. Twice, the girl said; twice she’s tried to kill you. Once by water and once by fire. My lord, you should have told us.”
Those responsible for keeping you alive have rights in your life. I could not answer Banadaspos at all, and I stood there helplessly, ashamed, exasperated, and exhausted. At that minute there was a feeble snuffling cry from the shapeless cloak around the girl, and she jumped and clutched something under it.