on the prefect’s servant but he said nothing.
Decimus approached hesitantly and nodded towards the door. ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir.’
‘Not yet.’ Quertus spoke in a rumbling undertone. ‘I’m hungry. Fetch me some cheese and bread. And a jug of beer.’
‘Sir, I was just taking these to headquarters.’
‘Later.’
‘The prefect and Centurion Macro are expecting me to return as soon as I can, sir.’
‘Once I’ve finished with you, you can go. Now, build the fire up and then get me my food.’
Decimus hesitated a moment. The Thracian scowled and the servant hurriedly turned about and set the loaves down on a table. He went over to the fire and took some logs from the pile in the corner and stacked them over the embers in tiers before picking up the fan and carefully stirring up some flames until they consumed the lowest logs. All the while he felt the presence of the Thracian officer who had sat down on the nearest bench and watched him work in silence.
‘That’ll do,’ said Quertus. ‘Now the food.’
Decimus scrambled up and made for the foodstore where he heaped a wooden platter with the requested items and returned to serve them to the centurion. ‘There you are, sir. Now if there’s nothing more. .’
‘There is something else.’ Quertus tore off a corner of his bread and chewed steadily until his mouth was empty enough to speak. ‘Your name is Decimus, isn’t it?’
Decimus nodded, not happy that the Thracian officer knew even that much about him.
‘Cat got your tongue?’
‘N-no, sir.’
‘That’s better. Well then, Decimus, perhaps you can help me.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘Are you happy serving the prefect?’
Decimus chewed his lip. ‘Happy, sir? I hadn’t given it any thought.’
‘Oh, I’m sure that you have. I would find it hard to believe that you would be happy in a place as far flung and wild as Bruccium. You have the look of a former soldier about you. The limp suggests you were discharged unfit. Am I right?’
Decimus nodded, then as the Thracian officer’s brow knitted he quickly spoke up. ‘Yes, sir. I served in the Second Legion. Before I met the prefect I was in Londinium working the wharves.’
‘And you gave up the comforts of Londinium to come here?’
‘The prefect offered to pay me well to serve him, sir. It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘But not so good now, I’ll bet.’ Quertus smiled thinly. ‘I imagine that you are thinking that no amount of silver is worth being in a place like this.’
Decimus decided that it might be best to make light of the situation and get away from the Thracian officer as soon as possible. ‘I’m sure I could imagine enough silver to make anything worth while, sir.’
Quertus responded quietly, ‘I’m sure you could.’
Decimus coughed. ‘If that’s all, sir, I’d better be off. Can’t afford to keep the prefect and Centurion Macro waiting.’
‘Before you go, Decimus, there’s something I’d like you to think about.’ Quertus leaned forward and fixed his dark eyes on the veteran. Decimus felt his blood go cold.
‘You like silver, so you’re a man after my own heart. What if I was to offer you twice what the prefect is paying you to work for me instead?’
‘Sir?’
‘Come now, Decimus. You don’t think that bread and beer are the only things that the Blood Crows take from the villages we raid. There are plenty of silver lodes in these mountains, that is one of the reasons why the Emperor is so keen to get his hands on the land of the Silures. We’ve collected quite a small hoard of silver. I’ve promised fair shares for all the officers and men in the know. Why shouldn’t you be able to dip your beak in as well? As long as you serve my needs. I see you are tempted. . Why don’t I make it easier for you? What if I paid you three times what the prefect has promised you?’
‘A thousand sestertii, that’s what Cato said.’
‘So little for a good man like you? The prefect is a skinflint. What do you say to three thousand sestertii?’
Decimus’s eyes widened at the prospect of such a fortune and Quertus pressed on. ‘Of course, you’d get to keep what he has promised to pay you as well. Should set you up nicely for the rest of your life. And the best of it is that all you have to do is keep on serving the prefect. As far as I am concerned, what you have to do for me is to keep your ears and eyes open and report back to me anything he says that relates to me or my cohort. That’s all there is to it. What do you say, Decimus?’
The servant was silent, his mind racing. ‘I need to think about it, sir.’
Quertus considered the other man for a moment before nodding. ‘All right. But I’ll have your answer tomorrow. One other thing you need to know. If I ever discover you have repeated any part of this conversation, I will have your head. You’ll find that it is much safer, as well as more rewarding, to be loyal to me in this fort. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Decimus swallowed nervously.
‘Then you may go. Remember, one word out of place and you’re a dead man.’
‘I understand, sir.’ Decimus nodded and made his way out of the officers’ mess as steadily as he could. Outside, he shut the door, his hand trembling as he slid the latch into place, and then hurried the short distance down the street back to headquarters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Maridius had his arms bound behind his back when he was dragged out of his cell and into the small hall in the fort’s guardroom. He had been stripped down to his leggings and his face and chest were heavily bruised. One eye was so badly swollen that he could hardly see out of it. He stank of his own dirt and his skin was streaked with filth and dried blood.
‘Get him on the hook,’ Quertus ordered and his men dragged the warrior beneath the beam in the centre of the room. An iron hook stuck out from the side of the beam. While one of the Thracians held Maridius in position, the other brought out a four-foot-long shaft of wood with a length of rope tightly bound to each end. He pulled the prisoner’s arms back and shoved the wood up beneath them, as far as it would go, and then lifted the rope over the hook and adjusted it until the shaft was parallel to the ground. Maridius grimaced as his shoulders felt the strain.
Cato and Macro watched the preparations from a bench at the side of the room. Macro sat with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out and arms folded, apparently unmoved by the prisoner’s suffering. Cato, however, was not so insouciant. The interrogation of the prisoner was a necessary evil as far as he was concerned and he was keen to see it over with as soon as possible.
One of the Thracian interrogators turned to Quertus and stated, ‘He’s ready, sir.’
Before Quertus could respond, Cato leaned forward and snapped, ‘You will address your remarks to me, trooper, if you want to avoid a charge of insubordination.’
The Thracian glanced at Quertus, who nodded discreetly. The man stood to attention. ‘Yes, sir. The prisoner is prepared for interrogation, sir.’
Cato replied, ‘Very good. You may begin.’
‘Yes, sir!’
The trooper went round to the front of the prisoner while his comrade moved behind Maridius, and savagely kicked him just behind the knee joints. The prisoner slipped down and his shoulders took the full weight of his body. He let out a strained cry of agony and then rolled his head back, eyes clenched, as he fought the pain. The man in front of him squatted slightly, drew his fist back and slammed it into Maridius’s gut, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. Another blow followed, and another in a steady rhythm, working his
