“Aemilia won’t.”
“Well, if it’s true, she’d have to find out sometime, wouldn’t she? Best of all, the governor’ll be here today with the new man to run the infirmary, so you can clear off and leave it all behind.”
“But it’s not sorted out.”
“Never mind. You’ve done your best.”
“What am I going to say to Thessalus when he finds out they’re going to execute his brother-in-law?”
“You’ll think of something.” Valens yawned.
“Let’s go over it step by step.”
“Let’s go to sleep.”
“There’ll be time for sleeping later. Listen. I’m not meant to tell anybody this, but I suppose it won’t matter. Since you aren’t really anybody anyway.”
“Thanks.”
“Officially, I mean. Officially you’re not here. So listen. When Audax found Felix’s body, somebody had cut his head off with his own knife.”
“Oh dear. That’s messy.”
“Exactly. He was probably dead already by then, but even so, it would have been pretty messy. Rianorix could have just run off in the dark and gone home to clean himself up. But Catavignus-”
“Would have to change his clothes before going home in case he was seen,” said Valens. “Obviously. Are you telling me you haven’t thought of that before?”
“I only found out last night what a nasty piece of work he really is,” pointed out Ruso. “And the next minute somebody threw a sack over my head and tied me up.”
“I suppose that did make it difficult to get to dinner.”
“So, what happened to Catavignus’s bloodstained clothes?”
“Perhaps they went to the laundry.”
“There’s no laundry here.”
“Really? What do they do, then?”
“I don’t know. I just leave everything outside the door and it comes back clean a couple of days later.”
Valens sighed. “No laundry, no forum, no amphitheater, no decent shops… you know, I’m beginning to think women have a point.”
There was a clatter from the kitchen, followed by the screech of yesterday’s ashes being raked off the hearth. Ruso tried not to remember the comfort that morning sound had once given him. He said, “Tilla would say ask the staff. I need to find a way of questioning Catavignus’s housekeeper.”
“Only if you think any of this is actually worth the bother,” said Valens.
“How else can I prove that he’s guilty?”
“Never mind that. For some bizarre reason, you want to prove Catavignus guilty to save Rianorix. Yes?”
“I want to prove him guilty because he did it. But yes, there are reasons why Rianorix has to be helped off the hook.”
“But you already know they’re planning to nail Rianorix up on another charge. Really, Ruso. You might have bothered to think all this through before you woke me up.”
“I think we should both be trying to save a decent colleague from the disgrace of a false murder confession,” pointed out Ruso. “And for whatever reason, Rianorix was trying to help me last night. Metellus can say what he likes. There were plenty of other witnesses.” He got to his feet. “The trouble is, he’s the one they’ll believe. I need to talk to the prefect before Metellus gets to him.”
“Not at this hour.”
“He’ll be awake,” insisted Ruso. “He’s having a visit from the governor today.”
81
No one in her family who had any honor had ever been inside the fort, and yet here she was again, this time standing in front of the desk of the commanding officer. She lifted her chin. She was not going to look submissive. Or nervous.
“I will tell you what I know,” she announced, “if you promise to let the prisoners go.”
The man reclined in his chair, looking faintly amused. “And what is it you know?”
“Not until you swear to let them go.”
He said, “I will decide what your information is worth when I hear it.”
She looked into the deepset blue eyes. This was a man whose people had been crushed by Rome and who now oppressed others on the emperor’s behalf. How could he be trusted? On the other hand, what choice did she have? She said, “You must give me your word as the emperor’s servant that if what I say is good, my people will go home.”
“You have my word,” he agreed, as if he still had some honor to lose.
“My name is Darlughdacha,” she said. “Three winters past, in the time of year when the wheat was beginning to ripen, my home was raided by thieves under the command of Trenus of the Votadini. My family was killed, and I was taken as a slave. All our animals are stolen. One of the animals is a good bay mare, five winters old, dark all over with a few white hairs above the nearside front hoof.”
She was interrupted by a quiet voice from behind. “Can I have a word, sir?”
She turned to see the snaky one standing behind the door. The prefect beckoned him forward. The snaky one hissed in his ear for a moment. The prefect nodded. The snaky one slithered back to his place.
“It seems you are better at recognizing horses than people,” said the prefect. “I hear you failed to help us identify the man who caused the wagon accident. I also hear that your father and brothers were known troublemakers.”
“Is that why you do not give justice when Trenus raids our land, burns our house, murders my family?”
“That took place under my predecessor,” explained the prefect smoothly. “I’m sure he would have dealt appropriately with any complaint. Now, what is it you would like to tell us?”
Tilla clenched her fists. She must stay calm. She was here to save the living as well as avenge the dead. “I have seen that horse again last night,” she said. “And then when I see the younger storyteller-the second one-I remember where I have seen him before too. Three times now. Once in the yard at the Golden Fleece inn. And once riding along the hillside when the accident happens. And before that at Trenus’s house where he comes to share supper and accept the gift of the bay mare stolen from my family.”
The prefect’s eyes flicked across to the other man. “Metellus?”
“She’s got a motive for discrediting Trenus, sir. And last time she was questioned she said nothing about seeing this man before.”
“I do not lie,” insisted Tilla, concentrating her gaze on the prefect and wishing the snaky one would stop interfering. “If you trust Trenus, you will be a very sorry officer. He is pretending to be your friend while he is supporting this man who stirs up my people against you.”
Again the two men looked at each other.
“Do you know where we can find this storyteller with the horse?”
“No, sir. He is very careful. But Trenus must know someone who can tell you.”
The prefect beckoned the snaky one to him again. There was another whispered conversation.
When they had finished she said, “Now can the people go?”
The snaky one stepped aside. The prefect sat looking at her, tapping a thumb on the edge of his desk. “Rome has no quarrel with the Votadini,” he said. “Why would Trenus want to cause trouble here?”
“I only tell you what I know, my lord. I do not know what is in his mind.”
The thumb tapped the desk again. Finally he said, “You were a slave to him for how long?”
“Two years, my lord.”
“You know his people.”
“Some of them.”
“You could be very useful to us.”
