I dictated a reply on the spot:
Ariantes to Siyavak lord of the fourth dragon sends greetings. Lord, by your courage and loyalty, Gata las is avenged. Have no fear of me or my love for honor. I will act at once, and our enemies will be destroyed. For your part, continue your pretense and allow yourself to be arrested with the conspira tors, for thus you will be safe from their vengeance. As soon as they are secure, you will be released and honored for your loyalty in revenging your lord’s death. This I swear on fire.
I signed the letter, sealed it, and brought it out of the wagon. I was so stiff with excitement and joy that I wanted to shout. Protus was just finishing his stew. (The firelight revealed him as a round-faced man a bit younger than Eukairios, plainly dressed and with identically ink-stained hands.) Leimanos and Banadaspos had both appeared, tousled and sleepy, from their own wagons, which were, of course, nearby. They were convinced that something was up and determined not to miss it, and they sat watching Protus sullenly: another of their lord’s foreign allies, involved in plans from which they had been excluded.
“I am indebted to you,” I told Protus. “You said you had borrowed a horse: may I give you one?”
He gaped. “I… I couldn’t keep a horse, Lord Ariantes! I don’t have the money or the place to put it. And I can barely ride.”
I went back into the wagon and fetched my last gold drinking cup-the others had all gone in bribes-and went to the supply of silver I’d put under the bed to keep handy. I filled the cup with silver and brought it out to Protus. “Take that, then, in token of my gratitude to you for riding over tonight,” I told him. “Another man might have left it until the morning. When do you ride back?”
“I have to go as soon as I’ve finished eating, sir,” Protus stammered, looking from me to the cup and back again. “I don’t dare be away from work in the morning. I’d be beaten for it. I… These are denarii! Lord Ariantes, you can’t mean-”
“I said it was a token of my gratitude. Do you think my gratitude is cheap? Here is an answer to the letter you brought; I ask you to see that it is sent with the same haste as the one you delivered to me. If you are leaving now, we will have your company on the road.” I turned to my captains and switched to Sarmatian. “Leimanos, Banadaspos, our enemies are in our hands, and they will be ruined before the month is out! Tell the bodyguard to arm: we ride tonight.”
They both jumped to their feet, sullenness vanished in triumphant delight.
“Tonight?” Eukairios echoed, in Latin, behind me.
“Tonight, and you as well,” I told him, switching back to that language. “If you can sleep now, I admire your coolness. Facilis is still in Corstopitum, and we will need his help. We might as well ride now as in the morning. Leimanos, I’m leaving you in charge of the dragon.”
“My lord…” began Leimanos, ready to protest.
“There won’t be any fighting,” I promised him, back in Sarmatian again, grinning. “They will die by ink and a few leaves of beechwood. I only want the bodyguard to protect my back. Eukairios, be sure you bring writing supplies. Leimanos, I’ll tell Longus where I’m going as I leave. Don’t bother Comittus about anything to do with this.”
“You said he was innocent!” objected Leimanos.
“And so he is-but he has friends who aren’t, and is it honorable to ask him to assist in their destruction? Do you know if Longus is in his house?”
“He said he was going to Fortunatus’ place.”
“Good. Someone point it out to me, and I’ll say good-bye to him there.” I clapped my hands. “To arms!”
A few minutes later we were galloping out from the camp, thirty-one armed Sarmatians and two rather stunned scribes. It was just over an hour later when we rode into Corstopitum.
We dropped a shaken Protus off by the municipal buildings, and rode up to the gates of the military compound shortly before midnight. The guards were initially alarmed to see us, but relaxed when I asked for Flavius Facilis: they knew he was investigating the druidic murder, and midnight alarms were to be expected in such a case. They admitted us, sent a message to the commandant’s house where Facilis was staying, and allowed us to stable our horses in the military stables. When we arrived at the commandant’s house, it was to find the lamps lit and Facilis and the prefect of the Thracians, Titus Ulpius Silvanus, sitting in the dining room looking anxious and sleepy, waiting for us.
“What the hell are you doing galloping into Corstopitum at this time of night?” was Facilis’ greeting to me.
“I have had some important news,” I told him. “But there is no need for all of us to stay awake for it. Lord Prefect, is there anywhere for my men to rest?”
I managed to send him off to sort out the barracks, and as soon as he was gone, I handed Facilis Siyavak’s letter.
The centurion read it with a look of growing disbelief, and when he’d finished, sat staring at it numbly. “Jupiter Optimus Maximus!” he exclaimed, and looked back up at me.
I ran my forefinger across my forehead and around the side of my head.
“Gods!” he agreed. “This will finish them! The other names you got were good: that Cunedda had kept a ring that belonged to that poor bastard of a carpenter he sacrificed, which pins the murder on him, and now that he’s dead, there’ve been people coming forward to inform. The countryside and most of the druids in the region have turned against his sect. I thought now we could start to put up a fight. But this! This is the Venus toss on the dice, and the other players are out of the game shirtless.”
“There is not much time,” I said. “We should move at once.”
Facilis nodded. “We need to write some letters.”
When Titus Ulpius came back in, yawning, we had the writing leaves out and were sharpening the pens. “What’s happened, then?” he asked.
Facilis looked at him reflectively a moment-then he handed the letter to him. The prefect began to read it in a mumble. He stopped yawning after the first line; after the fourth, he stopped mumbling and read silently. He looked up at Facilis, wide-awake and terrified. “Is this true?” he demanded.
“Yes,” replied Facilis steadily. “But you don’t need to take our word for it. When those bastards are arrested, they’ll find proof of the lot, I’m sure of that. We need to get them all at the same time, so that they can’t warn each other and hide the evidence. Best if it’s done just a day or so before the uprising’s scheduled to begin. You’re prefect of a cohort, Titus, you can help. I don’t have the authority to order what I need to, and nor does Ariantes.”
“But the legate…”
“We tell the legate.”
I made a gesture of caution, and the centurion turned on me. “You said you’d tell him when you had evidence, and by all the gods and goddesses, you’ve got it now. Nobody’s going to arrest you here, with your own men at hand, and once he’s arrested this lot, it will confirm everything. We tell the legate: you can dictate the letter yourself. But we tell the others, as well-the officers of all the forts involved-just in case he doesn’t, or can’t. And we write the governor down in Londinium.” He turned back to Titus Ulpius. “Do you have a license to use the post? Then we send a fast courier off first thing in the morning, to Eburacum first, and then to Londinium. We give him strict instructions that the letter to the legate is on no account to be given to him if his wife is present. Come on! Let’s get started!”
Letters. “Ariantes, commander of the Sixth Numerus of Sarmatian Horse, Titus Ulpius Silvanus, prefect of the First Thracian Cohort, and Marcus Flavius Facilis, centurion of the first order, hastatus of the Thirteenth Gemina, to Quintus Antistius Adventus, legatus Augusti pro prae tore, governor of Britain…” “Ariantes… to Julius Priscus, legate of the Sixth Victrix, many greetings. My lord, when we spoke in Eburacum I swore that when I had evidence, I would give it to you. I have been informed that…” And letters as well to the prefects of half a dozen forts scattered around Brigantia, to the grain commissary, which was responsible for all intelligence operations, and to Marcus Vibullus Severus, Arshak’s “liaison officer” at Condercum. Eukairios and Facilis wrote; I dictated; Ulpius, subdued and frightened, signed.