As they walked out onto the loading platform at the front of the granary and turned for the steps at the side leading down to ground level, Vindex walked alongside Sabinus and gave one of his sinister grins. ‘If it’s any help, since I’ve known the centurion I have expected to die more than a score of times. But as he says, I’m still here after all that. He’s a hard man to kill, and there’s a lot to be said for having him around.’
Sabinus managed a thin smile.
The dinner was a poor affair. As commander, Ferox occupied the big praetorium, but he had not brought a great household to run the place. There was just Philo, his wife Indike, and a rather slow Brigantian boy, an orphan, who had nowhere else to go. In the past, even this modest staff had seemed excessive, not least because of Philo’s relentless pursuit of cleanliness and determination to make something better of his master. The boy – and Ferox still thought of him as a boy, even though he was now twenty-five and his freedman rather than slave – was a Jew from Alexandria. He was slim, dark skinned, dark eyed, and always immaculate, somehow bleaching his tunics until they were whiter than even the most eager candidatus standing for election at Rome. Indike was smaller, even slimmer and darker, and had come originally from India even though she had been sold into slavery and shipped to the empire when she was an infant. A former dancer, most recently in Londinium, she had ended up being looked after by Philo, and the pair had fallen in love, so that Ferox had let them marry and then given both their freedom. If anything this increased their devotion and determination to run his life if possible, and at the very least turn him into a respectable, well dressed and groomed officer. It was an uphill struggle, but both had as much patience as willpower. Even so, there was only so much they could do with the limited help offered by the boy and fatigue parties of soldiers. Philo’s expression was a constant reminder that Ferox had ignored his advice to acquire more help before they came to Piroboridava.
Lucius Tettius Crescens registered no more than mild surprise at the modest array of dishes on the table between the couches, and even less at the absence of anyone else to occupy the triclinia. From his paunch, heavy neck and jowls, this was a man who enjoyed his food, but his tone was practical, and neither ingratiatingly humble or with the excessive pride of a man who had made his fortune. Dionysius had told Ferox that the merchant was a Sardinian, that he had undertaken contracts to supply the army during the last war, had bought large numbers of the prisoners taken to sell on, and had done a lot of business in the Dacian capital Sarmizegethusa, even with Decebalus himself. Tettius knew a lot of people, and plenty of them had written recommending him and asking good Romans to assist him. To his surprise, a few letters addressed directly to Ferox had preceded the man’s arrival.
‘I plan to stay for a few days, if that is acceptable,’ the merchant said after brief pleasantries. He spoke loudly and his voice echoed around the big, almost empty dining room. ‘My apologies.’
‘None needed.’
Indike appeared, bearing piping hot stew on a tray. Tettius watched her, as most men would, for she had a rare, delicate beauty and even her slightest movement had grace. The man watched, but did nothing gross, whether from respect for his host or innate decency, and Ferox was glad because he did not wish to have to rebuke a guest. ‘Would you care to stay inside the garrison? I am sure that we could find some rooms, although they may be a little basic in their comforts.’
Tettius’ eyes flicked around the room. ‘I do not need much, but would be grateful for what you can offer. Most of my people will remain outside in the carts or stay in the vicus.’ The collection of a few decent buildings and plenty of shacks outside the fort was scarcely worthy of the term, which was usually reserved for the more formal and organised communities around a base. ‘Some of the carts are well suited to our business.’
‘You will not be short of customers, especially for your girls. I trust that the prices are clear and fair.’
‘Of course. All as they should be, approved by the legatus Augusti, and all recorded so that taxes will be paid. After a few days I intend to press on with some of my people, but wondered whether ten of the girls should remain? I would wish my property to be under your protection.’
‘Give a statement at the principia, with witnesses to vouch for its truthfulness.’ Ferox was relieved that this was a straightforward request, easy to grant. ‘Will they stay at the tavern?’ In smaller outposts, it was common enough to hire a prostitute and give her a room in a barrack block to ply her trade. Men in a bigger base liked the relief offered by walking out through the gates to take their pleasure, where they felt free of the army for just a short while.
‘Yes. The owner will watch them – after all he works for me.’ Tettius gave a thin smile. He had thick hair, which hung down almost to his eyebrows. Once or twice he brushed it with his hand and touched a pale scar that was concealed the rest of the time. He did so now, and Ferox could not decide whether this was sheer habit or a mark of nervousness. ‘You have had trouble I hear.’ The change of subject was abrupt. ‘Men killed, I mean.’ Again his fingers pushed hair out of the way and scratched the scar.
‘There has been an incident,’ Ferox conceded, wondering how the man had learned of this.
‘Julius Dionysius told me,’ Tettius explained. ‘Do not blame him, I beg you. I am going that way so naturally I asked if all was safe. I have a few men in case of trouble, but no real protection against bandits or worse.’
‘You travel over the pass and to Sarmizegethusa?’
‘Yes. My girls will find plenty of work with the garrison there and I have luxuries for the officers and the royal courts – as well as other business. It is a great deal to ask, but I wondered whether an escort might be possible?’
That was it then. It was a significant favour, although not an unreasonable one for a man with so many friends willing to speak on his behalf. ‘Certainly. Although they must rest at Sarmizegethusa for no more than a day before they return. Unless you are ready by that time, you shall have to find other protection for your return journey.’
‘That is more than generous, and I thank you.’ The merchant raised his hand and pressed it against his own mouth, presumably a gesture from his homeland, for Ferox had never seen it before.
‘In turn, I hope to purchase a few things from you,’ Ferox said, ‘for as you may have noticed, my hospitality is meagre.’
Tettius made a dismissive gesture. ‘I assumed merely the disdain for luxury of a simple soldier.’
Ferox began to explain what he wanted. ‘All in all, something more appropriate for my rank and responsibilities is now necessary, not least because a senior officer is soon to pass this way.’
‘The legatus of I Minervia? Do not show surprise, it is my business to know things, so that I am best placed to provide services and goods as they are needed.’ He scratched the scar again, as if in thought. ‘Yes, yes, and it is no ordinary senator, but Publius Aelius Hadrianus, cousin to our princeps. You did not realise?’ Tettius must have sensed the surprise although Ferox did not think he had betrayed it. ‘Well, once again it is good for my trade to know such things. He is a man with high standards, although not too demanding beyond the requirements of military discipline. Is there good hunting at this season? I hear that he is fond of the chase. Well, well, I am glad to repay your services to me so easily. Let us consider what you need. How well do you wish to entertain the noble legatus?’
‘Sufficient for courtesy,’ Ferox said. ‘And please understand that I mean to pay. Your escort was a duty, not a favour.’