“Well then” the sergeant continued, “I’ll have the list delivered to him to go through with you. I’m sure I’ve been thorough, but it never hurts to have a second set of eyes go over things. So what’s the next step?”
Varro shifted in his seat.
“That sword’s the key. It’s the only link I’ve got to whoever did this. And it’s a good sword. I only saw it briefly, but I’d bet it’d be worth a year’s pay for your average soldier. And nobody’s going to leave that lying in the mud. Someone brought it back, and that means someone in this fort has that sword.”
Salonius cleared his throat. “We could approach the fortress command captain. He could organise a complete search of the place with his provosts and be through the whole place in a matter of hours.” He frowned. “But that’s if you can trust them, sir?”
Varro shook his head.
“No, but I think there’s another way around this. We’re going to have to inform the prefect and the marshal about the change of command and my removal from duty and, while I don’t know about the prefect, Sabian’s more trustworthy than any other senior officer I’ve ever met. He’s the most senior officer in the Province, he’s trustworthy, and he’s here. If I speak to him, he can authorise the search without going through normal fort channels. And he can do it with his own guard, so no one needs to know what they’re searching for. It’s the only way we’re going to get the jump on whoever’s responsible.”
Corda nodded thoughtfully, stroking his beard.
“Very well. I’ll have to get back to the cohort. I don’t know how you found time to perform actual command tasks with all the other random shit bureaucracy involved. I’ve not informed the men of the exact circumstances yet; just that you’re under medical care and unable temporarily to carry out your duty. I think it would be better, given the nature of the situation, to keep as many people out of this as possible, particularly the members of your own cohort.”
“Agreed.” Varro sighed. “Alright, I’m going to have a bite to eat and then Salonius and I will go to headquarters and get things underway.”
Corda nodded and, saluting hesitantly, turned on his heel and left the building, the door swinging quietly closed behind him.
Salonius straightened.
“Martis is out getting wine sir. Shall I see if I can get you something to eat?”
Varro smiled.
“Don’t worry about it lad. He’s already left cold meats, bread and cheese out in the other room. If you could just dash through and get it, there’s plenty for both of us.”
The two men were seated quietly around the small table munching on hard northern cheeses, lean cuts of pork and bread still warm and freshly baked when the door swung open with a crash.
Startled, Varro dropped a slice of cheese and Salonius leapt to his feet, his hand going immediately for the hilt of the sword at his side before he realised who the lone figure in the doorway was.
Catilina stormed into the room, the door swinging closed behind her. She had an air of haughty anger, somehow heightened by the aroma of eastern oils that followed her, adding to the heady scent already pervading the room. Varro stood, wiping his hands to remove the crumbs.
The marshal’s daughter, pale and elegant with fire in her eyes pointed an accusing finger at the captain.
“You!”
“What?” Varro spread his hands out in a supplicant gesture.
“How could you not tell me?” she shrieked at him.
“Catilina, calm down for Gods’ sake. You’ll burst a blood vessel.”
The lady’s arm fell back down beside her and she placed her hands on her hips, taking up a defiant stance.
“You get a life-threatening injury and I have to hear it through the bureaucracy?” her voice notched up another octave and her eyes smouldered as she glared at the captain.
“You’ve heard?” Varro frowned.
“Your doctor gave the prefect the post-battle casualty reports. My father and I were there at the time. What does he mean ‘fatality’? You’d better explain this, Varro!”
The captain sighed deeply and gestured to the empty seat to one side.
“I will Catilina, but sit down and calm down.”
He turned to Salonius. “I hadn’t thought about the casualty reports. Obviously he hasn’t released full details then.”
“No sir,” the young soldier agreed, “but surely he’s not reported you as a fatality.”
Varro grumbled.
“It’ll be ‘expected fatality’. Those of us who were wounded and aren’t expected to pull through.”
Catilina, still standing with her hands on her hips, growled at him.
“He’s not reckoned with your tenacity, Varro. You’re always getting wounded, but it doesn’t take you long to heal” she grumbled at him and then stopped and frowned.
“It’s not the wound, is it? I hadn’t thought of that. What’s happened, then?”
Varro gestured at the seat again.
“Catilina, it’s not good. And I can’t have the details going round the fort like a brush fire, so I need you to keep this very much to yourself at the moment.”
“What?” she barked impatiently.
Varro sighed again and sat back heavily.
“I was stuck with a poisoned blade during the battle.”
Finally, Catilina took the seat she had been proffered and stared at the captain.
“Tell me, Varro.”
The captain tapped his fingers idly on his knee as he weighed her mood. There was no denying Catilina was an intelligent and resourceful woman, yet her fiery temper sometimes overwhelmed her sense of priority. She would need to be very objective about all this unless the news was to be leaked around the army.
“Catilina, I’m dying. There’s no cure and we can’t even locate the sword that was used. Scortius is giving me medication to keep me up and about and largely out of pain, but there’s nothing he can do in the long run.”
The haughty young woman pinched the bridge of her nose and turned to face the window.
“Is the man who did this still among the prisoners?”
“No.”
Varro caught her eyes and noticed them beginning to well up. She became aware of his gaze and blinked back the emotion, her face hardening.
“You killed him then?”
Varro shot a quick glance at Salonius whose expression remained unreadable.
“Not exactly.” He sighed. “I killed the barbarian who wielded the sword…”
“Yes?”
“But it’s the man who gave him the poisoned blade and marked me out that I want to find.”
“You mean this was deliberately targeted at you?” She blinked again, this time in surprise.
“It has to have been. The man came looking for me on the battlefield and he had an imperial blade; a very expensive one. Someone from within this fort has had me poisoned. I’m going to die, but I’m going to find out who did this first and why. And I’m going to make them suffer. But you see that’s why I can’t let you go out and tell people about this. If word gets out that I’m looking into this the culprit will go to ground and I’ll never find him.”
Catilina was still staring at him, a horrified look on her face and her mouth hanging open.
“Varro, you can’t just die?”
“I’ve no choice, Catilina,” Varro smiled weakly. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“There has to be!” she yelled at him.
“There has to be something we can do. Scortius has missed something.”
Varro shook his head sadly. “Scortius is a very thorough man, Catilina. You know that. And he’s done everything that can be done. I wish you hadn’t come with your father. I’d have spared you this if I could.”
“I’ll just step out, sir” Salonius said quietly, turning and making for the door.
