‘Anything?’ he asked when Simo returned.
‘Gossip mostly, sir. But one of their husbands has a stall selling trinkets and such like. He’s at home ill today but she says he’s not heard of anything new or unusual turning up. If anyone would know, he would — or so she said.’
‘All right. I’m beginning to think they bypassed the town completely. We shall see if Lucan’s discovered anything, then return to the inn. We’ve some preparations to make.’
Cassius stood by the window of their room at Addra’s, watching one of his serving girls tidy some tables in the courtyard. She was no beauty but possessed the most wonderfully sleek black hair, and she moved with an easy grace not normally associated with one in her position. She tipped over a mug, then pulled a cloth from her belt to wipe up the water. Cassius indulged himself with a momentary fantasy about taking her up to a room, locking the door and spending the afternoon under the sheets. The moment was soon lost.
‘Will this do, sir?’ asked Simo. He’d returned to the room holding a thin belt.
‘Let’s see.’
Cassius raised his arms as Simo tried the belt.
As expected, Lucan’s enquiries had also yielded nothing of interest so there was no reason to stay in Androna. Once Simo had finished packing they would leave; and Cassius had decided they would travel in disguise.
Simo and Indavara could go as they were, and Cassius needed only to make a few small alterations. He would dispense with his thick military belt and change his red tunic to a white one. The spear-head, his helmet and his scarlet cloak would be well hidden from any prying eyes.
The belt fitted well.
‘I shall just go and pay Master Addra for this and the food and water,’ said Simo.
Indavara was lying on his bed, staring into space.
‘Packed up already?’ asked Cassius.
The bodyguard nodded.
‘Then we shall go over it again.’
Indavara rolled his eyes.
‘Speak,’ said Cassius. ‘You’ve nothing else to do.’
Indavara replied in a tired monotone: ‘You are Cassius Oranius Crispian. A man-’
‘A Raetian man.’
‘A Raetian man looking to invest money in mining now that the war is over. You’re surveying the area south of Chalcis to check the state of the mines and see what work is going on. You’ve been in Syria for three weeks and have journeyed north from Palmyra where you were, er. .’
‘Checking on the caravan trade. Not bad.’
‘Why do I have to know it? Nobody ever asks bodyguards anything.’
‘Listen, if we run into a bunch of brigands or Palmyrans, we need to have our story straight. And remember — I am Raetian, not Roman. Not Roman.’
‘All right, I’m not stupid. What about me? Where am I from?’
‘By Mars, you’ve a gift for irony, Indavara. You won’t tell me where you’re actually from but you want me to make up an imaginary background for you. Don’t concern yourself. Like you said: nobody ever asks bodyguards anything.’
Indavara reached into a sack of provisions and retrieved a handful of dried apricot.
‘Do you ever stop eating?’
‘So why did these Palmyrans attack the legionaries?’ Indavara asked before sinking his teeth into a piece of fruit. ‘I thought the war was over.’
‘It is, and they were on the losing side. Our Emperor’s army has defeated their beloved queen and taken her back to Rome in chains. Their dream of supplanting us here in the east is over. So they’d like nothing more than to take their revenge on any Roman soldier they come across. Which, despite the fact that we are supposedly back in charge of the province, is why we must now travel incognito.’
‘So they like to use bows, these Palmyrans.’
‘Very effectively, I might add. I’ve had first-hand experience.’
Indavara’s attempt to cover his disbelieving expression with his hand was not entirely successful.
‘I see you doubt me.’
Indavara shrugged and ate another piece of fruit.
Cassius looked out of the window. ‘Well, I’ll not pretend to be much of a warrior, but two years ago, when the Palmyrans first rose against Rome, I found myself at a place not so very far from here. And I saw enough action to last me a lifetime, I can assure you of that.’
He gazed beyond the sprawl of the town, at the dark, straight line that ran north across the barren plain.
‘I’d prefer not to risk the road, believe me. But time is against us, and with every day that passes, the trail of the men we’re after grows colder. We must take our chances.’
Dusk came as they passed through the outskirts of Androna. Washing was collected, children called inside, doors bolted shut. Smoke and the smells of cooking drifted out of the houses; and anxious, curious faces looked out at the unlikely sight of three travellers taking the road north in darkness.
Calling in at the second inn, Cassius had discovered that Surex was out checking on the northern sentries; and they came across the legionaries less than a mile beyond the last of Androna’s dwellings.
The soldiers were gathered around a glowing brazier, drinking steaming wine from their canteens. They were well-equipped with bows and throwing javelins, and well-stocked with food and water. Two lookouts had been posted, one half a mile to the east, another to the west. Surex came out to meet Cassius as he dismounted.
‘I’ve been round all the men now,’ said the optio. ‘Nobody remembers any big groups passing through. Nor any big carts.’
‘No carts at all?’
‘Only small things — donkey pulls. Locals.’ Surex nodded at Cassius’s tunic. ‘I see you’ve dispensed with your officer’s gear.’
Cassius shrugged. ‘Seemed sensible in the circumstances.’
‘Absolutely.’
One of the legionaries came forward and struck up a conversation with Simo. It turned out he was a close friend of the injured man and he and several others wanted to offer their thanks. As they spoke, Cassius and Surex moved to one side. The optio took a sheet of papyrus from behind his belt.
‘My letter. The senior centurion at Chalcis is Volcatius Arius.’
Cassius took the note and put it in his satchel. ‘If I’m unable to get there myself, I’ll try to send it some other way. Do you know of a road that branches off to the east about ten miles short of Chalcis? Apparently it leads past the mines south of the city.’
‘I remember it. I’d never come down this way before so I made my own map.’
‘Did you see any traffic there? Any sign of activity?’
‘No, but the road was still in good condition — passable.’
‘That would be about forty miles from here, yes?’
‘About that. There are milestones all the way.’
‘So we might expect to arrive this time tomorrow.’
‘If you pushed it. Probably later.’
‘And any way-stations, inns?’
‘Here.’
Surex led him closer to the brazier and reached inside his tunic. He pulled out a rudimentary map with markings made in charcoal. They knelt down, side by side; and Indavara wandered over to listen in.
‘First way-station is twelve miles from here. Second one is at twenty-five. Neither is occupied though. We haven’t the manpower.’
‘And inns?’
‘Several. But also empty. It’s just too risky for people to come back and take them over with the Palmyrans still roaming around.’
Cassius looked north. ‘This could be a very unpleasant trip.’
‘At least the road is wide and smooth. You can ride without a light. But if you need to leave the road, don’t go too far. There are these damned underground water channels criss-crossing this whole area, with vertical shafts leading down to them. You’ll never see them at night — perfect for snapping a horse’s leg.’
‘Wonderful.’
The two officers stood and gripped forearms.
‘Hope you make it,’ said Surex.
‘You too.’