wanted to talk, which was a lie, of course. All I really wanted to do was undo the mistake I made in leaving her here when I took the military oath. We talked for a few minutes like strangers, which is what we are, I suppose, but it was mostly her talking about how her life went after I left, while I just sat there red-faced and made cow’s eyes at her, and her bodyguards sniggered at me behind my back. When even that got too much for me I made my excuses and made to leave…’
He fell silent and closed his eyes, shaking his head.
‘And?’
Julius sighed, then a faint, embarrassed smile played on his lips.
‘She got up, took me by the hand and pulled me into a curtained alcove. Her smart-arsed bodyguard, who now regards me as his personal property from the look of it, told me they call it the “Quicky Cubicle”. She drew the curtain, put a finger on my lips and then stuck her hand up my tunic and pulled me off in about as much time as it takes to tell you. Then she gave me a quick peck on the cheek, called for a cloth and sent me on my way. Which is why I missed all the fun with Dubnus’s boys.’
Marcus regarded him levelly for a moment.
‘And where does all this leave you?’
His friend shook his head again.
‘I don’t know. Part of me knows I just need to walk away and forget the whole thing, put it down to the choices we make that can never be undone, but all I really want to do is take that fucking place apart with my bare hands and try to make amends to her.’
‘And you think that’s what she’d want?’
Julius smiled wanly.
‘What do you think she’d rather be, a centurion’s woman, never knowing which rainy shithole fort she might find herself in next, or independent, and the mistress of her own destiny?’
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
‘I’ve no idea. But then neither do you. Have you considered asking her?’
Marcus left Qadir organising the 9th for their day’s labour, which consisted of carrying building materials to the more skilled workers, and sought out Arminius. He found the German sparring with Lupus, by turns attacking the child and pushing him to defend himself, then falling back in defence to coach him in the use of his sword. Marcus stood and watched, nodding approval at the boy’s slit-mouthed determination as he went forward against his instructor, his wooden training sword ceaselessly seeking an opening in the German’s defences.
‘How’s the boy doing?’
The German turned away from the child to ensure that he wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Better than I expected. He’s quick with the sword, he’s got natural footwork… I’ll turn him into a warrior, given a few years. Perhaps he’ll even be good enough to spar with me on even terms.’
Marcus looked at the child speculatively.
‘Would you say it’s time for him to have some proper equipment? I believe your agreement with Morban was based on his finding the money to provide his grandson with whatever he needs?’
Arminius grinned wolfishly.
‘I take it that your statue waver has just managed to make himself a profit of some kind?’
Marcus shrugged indifferently.
‘I’ve no idea, and the agreement is for you to enforce as you see fit. I just found it interesting that he was counting the number of heads which fell facing us this morning. It was the kind of concern a man like Morban might have if he were running a book, if you take my meaning. You might find him more amenable to making a purchase for the boy now than he would have been yesterday. Or, for that matter, more amenable than if you wait until he’s had a chance to scatter the contents of both his purse and his manhood across the city’s entertainment establishments.’
Later that evening, when tribune and first spear took their usual cup of wine to discuss the day’s events, First Spear Frontinius found his superior in reflective mood.
‘So Tribune Belletor agreed to the new rules for allowing the men into the city?’
‘Oh yes. Well, he didn’t have very much choice in the matter, as it happens, a fact I made very clear to him earlier today.’
‘And yet, Tribune, you seem strangely distracted this evening. Is there something troubling you?’
Scaurus raised an eyebrow.
‘Is there? I don’t know. Everything seems to be pretty much as it should be. Eight of the barracks are more or less complete, and we’ll have them all built and weatherproofed in a day or so. Order has been restored in the city, and any fighting that happens now will be a matter for you or First Spear Sergius to sort out internally, so there’s a source of strife removed. It’s just…’
‘The execution today?’
‘That’s perceptive of you. Yes. The man that started shouting.’
Frontinius shrugged.
‘There’s often one man who can’t meet his end without letting everyone within earshot know how he’s feeling about it, you know that. Not everyone’s a stoic.’
He regarded Scaurus over the rim of his cup, and to his relief saw that the other man was shaking his head in bemusement at the comment.
‘It wasn’t the fact that he was shouting that bothered me, Sextus Frontinius. They could all have begged for mercy at the top of their voices and I wouldn’t have turned a hair. What was of concern to me was what he was shouting.’
Frontinius raised his eyebrows in question, sipping at his wine again.
‘I wasn’t really listening, if I’m being totally honest, Tribune. I recall he was trying to tell us all about his innocence though.’
‘In point of fact, he was apparently trying to tell us that we had by far the greater perpetrator in our midst. First of all he shouted, “There are men here with more blood on their hands than me!” and he followed that up with, “He’s the one they’re all terrified of! I know! I heard his…” But we’ll never know what it was he heard, since Caninus’s overzealous deputy promptly silenced him. I heard our colleague ripping into him afterwards for silencing the man in mid-revelation, but done is done. The fact remains, however, that in that moment of utter clarity some men get just before their death, that condemned robber was trying to tell us that we have an enemy within. He couldn’t point out the man he was accusing, but he was looking squarely at the senior officers and the men around us while he was shouting the odds. Which leaves us with two questions.’
‘Who he was looking at?’
‘Yes. That, and exactly what he meant by “He’s the one they’re all terrified of”.’
4
‘Right, that’s one apiece for keeping your mouths shut about this.’ Morban handed every man in the new barracks’ cramped room a coin, staring into each pair of eyes as he did so. ‘If anyone asks you where I am, tell them I’ve gone to find some new boots.’
One of the soldiers crowded around him pulled a face at the single coin resting on his outstretched palm, making no effort to pull his hand away and claim the payment.
‘I’m not sure one sestertius is enough. What if the duty centurion comes looking for you? If we get caught lying to cover up for your whoring we’ll find ourselves on the business end of the scourge, with some big crested bastard striping us all up as the price of your fun.’
Morban glared at the speaker, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘You just stick to blowing your trumpet when you’re told to, sonny, and leave those of us with a head for business to enjoy the fruits of our hard work. After all, this is really just a scouting expedition I’m going on. I go out and spend my money working out where the best whores are to be found, and then when we have a pass into town I can take you straight to them. The way I see it, everyone’s a winner.’ He smoothed his tunic across his ample belly and then reached for his cloak, pinning the heavy woollen garment about him. ‘Be good now, lads, and don’t do
