“Ordinarily, sir, I would agree,” Varro stated clearly. “However, I feel that in the circumstances, certain aspects need to be considered before I’ll agree to let this go.”
“What aspects?” Sabian was beginning to look annoyed.
Varro drew himself up straight.
“If I said the wallet was connected with Petrus, would you expect me to relinquish it, sir?”
Sabian sat back heavily.
“Petrus?”
“Yes, marshal.”
Sabian waved his hand dismissively at the provosts.
“Sergeant, this is no longer your issue. Take your men back to barracks.”
The sergeant blinked in surprise, and then cast an angry glance at Varro before saluting, turning on his heel and marching from the room, followed swiftly by his provosts. Sabian frowned at Varro and the captain cleared his throat meaningfully.
Sabian rubbed his brow wearily and then turned to the fourth army’s prefect.
“Cristus, would you be so kind as to allow Varro and myself a little privacy.”
The prefect nodded sharply and stood, striding quietly from the room, though Varro couldn’t help glimpsing the irritation on the man’s face as he walked past the two men standing in the centre of the room.
“Sir?”
He turned to his side and realised that Salonius was awaiting the order to withdraw.
“No, Salonius. I need you to stay here.”
Sabian glanced briefly at Catilina and then beckoned to the captain. The room suddenly seemed remarkably large and empty with only four occupants. Varro nodded at Salonius and the two soldiers approached the table. Varro fiddled with the tie on the leather wallet.
“You remember Petrus, sir?”
As Sabian nodded, Salonius cleared his throat.
“Sir, if you’ll pardon the question, who is Petrus?”
The marshal leaned forward over the desk and cradled his fingers.
“Do you know the story of your prefect and the defence of Saravis Fork, soldier?”
Salonius nodded respectfully. “I know the story, sir. And Petrus?”
“Was my cousin,” Varro stated in a flat voice.
Salonius turned and blinked in surprise as the captain faced him and continued.
“My cousin, and the senior sergeant in Cristus’ cohort. We were the same age and both served under the marshal when Velutio ruled, along with Corda. But by the time Cristus pulled back from Saravis Fork, he’d lost three quarters of his men. Petrus had died in the siege.”
Sabian turned his gaze to the young soldier by Varro’s side.
“Your captain came to see me on Cristus’ return. He requested permission to take a scouting party out to the mountains to look for survivors; to look for Petrus, I suppose. I turned down his request. Cristus was already being commissioned to lead a punitive campaign.”
He coughed and reached out his hand towards Varro.
“I assume you have no objection to me reading this note.”
“Of course not, marshal. There’s not actually much to it, but… well I gather you’ve heard my news?”
Sabian let his hand fall to the table, and patted the rough wood reflectively.
“I have. I was intending to come and see you this afternoon to talk about it, but events seem to have run away with us.”
“Well, sir” Varro continued, “I’m fairly sure someone within the fortress is behind this and, given that, I’m doing my best to keep anything that might be remotely relevant under wraps.”
The marshal leaned back.
“You fear you have been poisoned by one of our own men?”
“I have reason to believe so, sir. I’m not sure of how all this ties in yet, sir, but I’m pretty sure it does. I was wounded in battle, as you know, but the wound was inflicted using a fine imperial blade coated with poison, albeit wielded by a barbarian. The sword seems to have vanished like a morning mist, but I intend to find it. It’s the only connection I had to my enemy… until this morning.”
Sabian nodded. “You think someone tried to kill you to prevent you receiving this?”
“Yes sir.”
Varro reached out and placed the package on the table.
“Have a look, and I think you’ll agree.”
Sabian leaned forward again and slowly unwrapped the thong, opening the wallet and smoothing out the paper flat on the wooden surface. He scanned down the brief missive. Scrawled in an almost childlike script were the words:
Varro.
I realise this will come as a shock to you, and you will find it hard to believe this is me, but it is true. I am alive. And I am safe. But the same is not true for you.
I urge you. I beg you to meet with me as I have the most dangerous information to share with you. I am at the civilian settlement outside the Saravis Fork fort, in a back room of the inn.
Tell no one, but hurry. It is vital that I see you.
Petrus.
Sabian looked up at Varro.
“I see your point. I assume you intend to go?”
The captain nodded.
“Then I’d best send an escort” the marshal said. “Dangerous territory up there. It may be Imperial land, but far too close to the border for comfort.”
Varro shook his head.
“No, sir. Considering what’s happening, I’m considerably safer on my own than with anyone from the military. Salonius here can ride with me.”
Sabian sat back for a moment and then nodded his agreement.
“I suppose so. I assume you intend to leave quickly and quietly?”
“Yes sir. I thought tonight, while it’s dark. We’ll need time to get supplies together, and I’ll have to go see Scortius and get some more medication. It’s three days to Saravis even at the fastest pace we can hope for, and I’m on a finite timescale.”
He turned to Salonius.
“I trust you’ll come along?”
“Of course sir,” the young man straightened slightly. Varro faced the marshal again, tapping his finger on his lower lip.
“I’ll need to speak to Corda about the sword too.”
Sabian stood and waved his hand gently.
“You concentrate on getting ready for the journey. I’ll speak to Corda and we’ll find your mysterious sword, Varro. And I want updates whenever something happens.”
He bent to one side and reached into a heavily bound chest, withdrawing a small bag, which he cast onto the table. It landed with a clink and sagged to one side. Varro raised an eyebrow.
“Around forty corona. Use it wisely. It should buy an awful lot of loyalty from the commoners en route and you can hire some couriers to apprise me of any changes or anything you think I need to know.”
Varro reached out and grasped the heavy bag of coins, tying it to his belt for safety.
“I am grateful for your support in this, marshal. It makes a great deal of difference having someone I trust here; there are so few at the moment.”
Sabian smiled. “We’ve known each other a very long time Varro. You know I value good men. Now get going
