“Proconsul?” I said.
“Decius, I’ve just remembered why I wanted you here. It was for situations like this.”
The body was out of the water, lying on its back. Two of the Gauls held their torches low so we could get a good look. The features were contorted and slightly swollen, probably the result of having been strangled by the noose that was visible around the neck. Still, they were recognizable.
It was Titus Vinius, First Spear of the Tenth.
I straightened. “All right, I’ll kick in for the funeral fund, although I’ll wager there aren’t any decent professional mourners to be hired in these parts.”
“Don’t try to provoke me, Decius!” Caesar snapped. “This is more than a serious loss to the legion. The men’s spirits are low enough as it is, and now the First Spear has been murdered! This could be catastrophic!”
“I should think it would raise morale enormously.”
“Don’t be facetious. I want the killers exposed so that they can be executed without delay.”
“Why do you think this is murder?” I asked him. “And what was he doing out here anyway? If the fool was wandering around alone at night, he was probably caught by Gallic raiders and killed. That isn’t murder, it’s enemy action.”
Caesar sighed. “Decius Caecilius, I thought this sort of thing was your specialty. Even I, lacking your unique talents, have noticed that Titus Vinius still possesses his head.”
“That is something of an anomaly, but far from conclusive. It may be. .” Then I was interrupted, not an unwelcome thing since I had no ready answer for him.
“Caesar,” Paterculus said, “may I speak frankly?” He was a grizzled old sweat with a face like an Alpine cliff.
“Please do so.”
“You don’t need this. . this philosopher to guess who killed Titus Vinius. It must have been the men of his own century. They all hated him.”
“Assuredly,” I said, not liking the way this was going. I knew who the prime suspects were the second I saw Vinius’ dead face. “They just asked him to take a stroll with them out by the lake in the middle of the night, unarmed. He acceded to this request with the bluff joviality for which he was famed wherever the hobnailed boot of Roman soldiery has trod.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Paterculus said. “They must’ve killed him in the camp or up on the wall, then dragged him out here.”
“And they did this without anyone noticing?” I demanded.
“Easy. The First Century has the north wall tonight.”
“Eighty men can’t keep a conspiracy secret.”
“Wasn’t the whole century,” Paterculus said. “Just that one contubernium that was giving him so much trouble. That boy. . what’s his name? Burrus? Let me have him for an hour. I’ll have the whole story out of him.”
This was getting ominous. “Caesar,” I urged. “If the death of the First Spear is a blow, what would this do to the Tenth? If men of the legion murdered their own centurion it could be worse than damaging to morale. It could inspire imitation.”
Caesar stood for a while in silent thought. Then he spoke in a voice that was low, but it was one all of us could hear.
“What you say is very true. Decius, I am appointing you investigating officer. If this murder was not committed by men of the First Century of the First Cohort, you must find out who did commit it and you must do it quickly. You are hereby excused all other duties. In the meantime I must take certain disciplinary measures.”
“Have I your authority to interrogate anyone I think fit; legionary or officer, free or slave, citizen or barbarian?”
“This is my province and you have my authority as Proconsul of Gaul and Illyria to interrogate any human being within the limits of my imperium. Just handle the investigation with utmost discretion.”
“No, Caesar,” I said. The mutter of low-voiced conversation halted.
“What?” Caesar said, unable to believe his ears.
“I want to conduct this investigation, but I cannot be hampered by considerations of discretion. However ugly or messy this crime proves to be, I will expose it. I want no one to think that I may fail to act for fear of embarrassing you. I must have your decree, stated before these officers, that I have full powers of investigation and arrest. If not, I will return to my arms drill.”
Caesar glared at me for long seconds amid the dead silence. The flickering orange light of the torches made his face a frightening sight. Then he smiled so faintly and nodded so slightly that it might have been a trick of the uncertain light.
“Very well. I will leave two of my lictors with you as insignia of your authority. This afternoon I will conduct funeral rites for Titus Vinius. After that I leave for Italy to collect my legions. Labienus will be in charge during my absence. I want you to have the culprits apprehended by the time I return. If you have not discovered them by that time, then I must take unwelcome but necessary steps to restore the order and discipline of the Tenth Legion.”
“Caesar, do you want my men to carry his body back to the camp?” Carbo asked.
“Please leave him until daylight,” I said. “I want to study the body and the site as soon as the sun is up.”
“Very well,” Caesar said. “Best he were not brought in at night anyway. The wake-up trumpets will sound soon and the soldiers will be up. I don’t want all sorts of wild rumors flying through the camp while it’s still dark and men’s minds are prey to primitive fears. Carbo, bring all your men over here to guard the site, but keep them at a distance. Come, gentlemen. We have plans to discuss.” He turned to go.
“By your leave, Proconsul,” I said, “I’ll stay here until daylight. I want to make certain that no one interferes with the scene.”
“As you wish,” Caesar said. He began to walk back toward the camp. Carbo went off to summon his men and the others went after Caesar. Each of them eyed me in utter mystification. None had any idea what to make of me. Labienus lingered later than the rest.
“Metellus, what sort of man are you? I have never seen a man behave with such shameless gall. Are you a hero or just some sort of lunatic?”
“A woman once called me a male harpy. I hound evildoers to their doom.”
He nodded. “That settles it, then. You’re a lunatic.” With that he walked away.
The auxilia were whiling away their time with a torchlit dice game. “Where is the man who found the body?” I demanded. One of the dicers called something over his shoulder and the man came in from the outer gloom, looking like a piece of the night detached from the whole and made animate.
“Tell me how you found him,” I said.
“We were performing the nightly sweep-”
“First identify yourself.”
“I am Ionus of the Gallic Scouts, part of the Second Cohort,” he began, his accent so dense that I could barely understand him. The auxilia are organized only as cohorts, never as legions. “We are under the command of Captain Carbo; valiant as a lion, cunning as a serpent, virile as a wild boar. .”
“Yes, yes, I am well acquainted with Captain Carbo’s virtues. We are old friends. Tell me how you found the dead man.”
“Each evening, just after dark, we conduct the sweep to catch any Helvetii who might come in through the swamp. Beginning at the legionary camp, the light-armed skirmishers extend in two lines from the great rampart on the left. Captain Carbo commands from the right flank. Upon his signal, they begin walking toward the lake. We Scouts go out ahead of them at a hundred paces. We are picked men, known for our keen night vision and our skill at moving silently in the dark. My own tribe, the Volcae, are famed for this skill.”
“I take it you are great cattle raiders?”
“The very best!” he said, smiling proudly. Just as the Greeks of Homer considered piracy a proper calling for gentlemen and our own ancestors of Romulus’ time thought it quite correct to appropriate other people’s women, so the Gauls believe that cattle thieving is both fine sport and a legitimate means to augment one’s material wealth.