from home he could surprise himself.
'So how are the Fourteenth reacting? What do the men say?'
'Well, Gracilis is a new appointment.'
'So I heard. Is he unpopular?'
'The Fourteenth have been having a few problems:' Justinus was a tactful lad. The Fourteenth were a problem, but he glossed over that. 'Gracilis has a rather abrasive attitude. It goes down badly when a legion are in a touchy state.'
'Gracilis was the Senate's choice,' I confided, based on what Vespasian had told me. 'You know, ' Step up, most excellent Florius. Your grandpa was a friend of ours; it's your turn next:' What's he like?'
'All virile sports, and shouts a lot.' We both winced.
'So let's be clear what you are suggesting, tribune. I already know the Emperor has doubts about this character, and now you say he's vanished. Has the First Adiutrix convinced itself that he has been bumped off-and by his own men?'
'Olympus!' Justinus flushed. 'That's an alarming suggestion!'
'Sounds like one you have grounds for.'
'The First is in a tricky position, Falco. We have no remit to interfere. You know how it is-the governor is away reviewing deployments at Vindonissa, so if Gracilis is playing truant, 'honour among commanders' comes into play. Besides, my legate is reluctant to march in directly and demand to see his opposite, in case we're wrong.'
'He would certainly look foolish if Gracilis strolled out to greet him, wiping his breakfast porridge off his chin!' I agreed. Then, influenced by too long in a barber's company, I suggested, 'Gracilis may have had a haircut he's ashamed of and is hiding until it grows out!'
'Or he's developed an extremely embarrassing rash:' He sounded like Helena and their father, his serious air covered a highly attractive humorous streak. 'It's no joke though.'
'No.' I quashed the pang of misery his familiar laugh had roused. 'Gracilis had better be exposed, whatever crab he's caught.' I hoped it was nothing worse. Mutiny in the legions just when things were looking settled would be disastrous for Vespasian. And there were grim political implications if yet another Roman legate should disappear in Germany. 'I can see good reasons for keeping this news stitched up. Vespasian will want to plan how it is to be presented publically: Camillus Justinus, you don't think the Fourteenth have reported the facts, and are waiting for special orders back from Rome?'
'My legate would have been informed.'
'Oh, that's what he thinks! Bureaucracy thrives on secrecy.'
'No, Falco. Despatch-riders are still bringing 'Your eyes only' messages for Gracilis. I know because my own man keeps getting asked to sign for them. Neither Vespasian nor the governor would send confidential flags unless they believed Gracilis was available.'
My sour welcome from the primipilus and cornicularius was beginning to make sense. If they had simply lost their man, things looked bad for them; if he had been throttled in a hastily hushed-up mutiny, that was desperate. 'Their senior trib brushed you off pretty shamelessly; my reception was much the same. Is that what always happens?'
'Yes. All the officers seem to be covering up.' This couldn't happen on the march, where Gracilis would have to be seen in the column, but here in the fort they could run things themselves. It reminded me of Balbillus's story of the legionary commanders coolly running Britain after having driven out their governor. But the era of anarchy was supposed to be over.
'Until the next festival occasion, there's no need to produce anyone in a commander's cloak,' I grinned. 'But if there is a conspiracy, I've just upset the tray of drinks! I brought an Iron Hand, plus orders for its investiture with a full colour ceremony. They'll need to parade their legate then.'
'Ha! The governor will make a point of being back for that!' Camillus Justinus had a streak of tenacity I liked. He showed real pleasure that the Fourteenth's attempts to thwart him were about to be wrecked. 'When must they hold the ceremony?'
'The Emperor's birthday.' He looked uncertain. Vespasian was too new in power to be thoroughly enshrined in the calendar. I knew (a scribe who thought informers were ignorant had noted it in my orders). 'Fourteen days before December.' We were still in October. 'Which gives you and me the rest of this month plus the first sixteen days of November to sort out the puzzle discreetly and make names for ourselves.'
We grinned. Then we set off towards the main gate. Justinus had enough character to see the possibilities. It would do him good if he could untangle this conundrum before Rome had to be involved.
I felt obligations looming. I was his sister's lover-almost one of the family. It was my duty to assist him to good fortune. Even though Justinus probably hated the thought of what his sister and I had been up to. And even though I would be landing myself with most of the work.
As we walked, falling into companionable silence, I was thinking hard. This had the smell of serious trouble. I had been chasing enough of that already. I had only been at Moguntiacum a bare hour and now there was a second senior officer missing-just one more complication to add to the official missing legate, the mutinous troops, the maniacal rebel chieftain and the loopy prophetess.
XIX
We picked up Xanthus and braced ourselves for the hike to the First's sector of the fort. To cover the journey with neutral conversation, I asked Justinus about his unusual promotion.
'I remembered your last command was at Argentoratum-in fact I went looking for you there. You weren't a senior then?'
'No, and I never expected to be. That was the lure that made me accept an extension to my tour. Obviously, in the long-term it's good to be able to say I held a broad-stripe position:'
'I hope your ambitions run to more than that on your tombstone! You must have impressed someone?'
'Well:' He still seemed a boy in a man's world. Big words like ambition startled him. 'My father is a friend of Vespasian; perhaps that was it.'
I thought the lad was doing himself down. People must have thought he had something to offer. Germany was not a province where they could carry dead wood. 'What's your new unit like? I don't know the First.'
'It's a legion Nero formed-with men drawn from the Misenum fleet, actually. Both the First and Second Adiutrix were put together using marines. That explains some of the tension here.' Justinus smiled. 'I'm afraid the illustrious Fourteenth Gemina Martia Victrix regard our outfit as a useless gang of wharfingers and matelots.'
Regular troops have always regarded marines as web-footed hangers-on-a view I rather shared. Shoving an untried unit out on this volatile frontier seemed like madness, too. 'So you're here to stiffen them up with your experience?' He shrugged in his self-deprecating way. 'Don't be so shy,' I said. 'It will all look good on your manifesto when you stand as a town councillor.'
Ten or twelve years ago, Titus Caesar had led the replacements that filled the gaps in the British legions after the Boudiccan Revolt. And now every town in the misty bogs was erecting his statue and remarking how thoroughly well liked he had been in his days as a young tribune.
It made me wonder uncomfortably if Justinus, like Titus, would one day find himself related to a reigning emperor-by marriage, for instance:
I wanted to ask if he had any news of his sister. Luckily we had reached his house, so I could spare myself the embarrassment.
XX
The senior tribune's house lacked its own bathhouse, but for one lad barely into his twenties who only needed space for his parade armour and the stuffed heads of any wild animals he speared in his spare time, it was an extravagant hutch. Tribunes are not famous for taking home bulky documents from the commissariat to work on,
