while they looked shifty. 'Right. We'll go there.'
'You don't know where it is,' complained Aelianus, always the first to jump in blindly when he ought to suspect a catch.
'Don't I? They are builders, aren't they?' I knew where all the contractors were rushing off to currently. 'Now. I owe this to your parents: one of you has to stay in Rome and mind the office. Agree between you who wins the chance to travel. I don't care how. Draw counters from an urn. Throw dice. Ask a dirty astrologer.'
They were reacting too slowly. Justinus got there first: 'Falco knows!'
'They've gone to a project known as the Great King's House. Am I right?'
'How do you know, Falco?'
'We are looking for two builders. I make sure I know what's being talked about in the building world.' It was a coincidence but I could live with assistants who thought I had magical powers. 'This is an enormous, glamorous palace being built for an old supporter of Vespasian's. The Emperor takes a personal interest. Unluckily for us, the great one who has an unpronounceable name which we must learn to say is king of a tribe called the Atrebates. They live on the south coast. That's the south coast on the wrong side of the Gallic Strait. It's an evil stretch of water, and it separates us from a ghastly province.'
I stood up, 'I repeat: one of you can pack a bag. Bring warm clothes, a very sharp sword, plus all your courage and initiative. You have three days to kiss the girls goodbye, while I finalise our commission.'
'Falco! What commission?'
'One Vespasian has particularly begged me to accept. Our commission from Sextus Julius Frontinus, provincial governor of Britain, to investigate the Great King's House.'
It was horrible but neat.
I would go; I would have to take Helena; that would mean we took the children. I had sworn never to go back, but oaths are cheap. Gloccus and Cotta were not the only lure. I would drag along Maia, removing her from Rome and from Anacrites' grasp.
I set it all up very quietly. I had to arrange things at the Palace so discreetly that Anacrites would not find out. Only then did I warn Maia.
Being one of my sisters immune to good sense, careless of her own safety, and thoroughly bloody-minded Maia refused to go.
VIII
my plan had been to slip out of Rome quietly. By now the Fates must have woken up with a real hangover. The journey took for ever and it was terrible.
The first time I went to Britain, I had the army looking after me. Nothing to worry about, except pondering why in Hades I had ever joined up. It was all easy. Kindly officers planned my every waking moment so there was no time to panic; practised supplies managers ensured that food and every kind of equipment accompanied us; good lads were with me, all wanting their mothers just like I did but not saying so.
The last time I went out there, it was me and a one-man travel pack. I prepared it for myself without a kit manual, while others added an imperial pass to see me through and a maps king showing the long road north. On the way back, it was me and a highly strung, furious young divorcee called Helena Justina. She was wondering what it would be like to go to bed with a brutal, outspoken informer, while I was very carefully avoiding the same thoughts. A thousand miles was a long way, trying to keep my hands off her. Especially once I started to sense that she wanted me to stop trying.
'Seems a long time ago,' I murmured, standing on the quay side in Portus, the main docking harbour at Ostia. It was five years.
Helena still had the art of talking to me privately, even amid a hubbub. 'Were we different people then, Marcus?'
'You and I will never change.' She smiled. The old wrench caught me, and I spread my hands on her, the way that dangerous dog four years ago would have loved to do.
This time, our luggage for the trip to Britain covered half the dock. While Nux raced around barking, Helena and I had skulked off towards the massive statue of Neptune, pretending that the sea of chests and wicker baskets had no connection with us. The two Camilli were quarrelling with each other as they oversaw loading. They had still not decided who was coming on the trip, so both planned to sail to Gaul while they continued to wrangle over who must stay behind at Massilia.
'Massilia!' I grinned, still reminiscing. 'I damn nearly went to bed with you there.'
Helena buried her face in my shoulder. I think she was giggling. Her breath tickled my neck. 'I expect you will do, this time.'
'Be warned, lady.' I spoke in the tough voice I used to put on- the one I once supposed had fooled her, though she had seen through it after a week. 'I'm planning to exorcise every memory of places where I let you stay chaste last time.'
'I look forward to that!' Helena retorted. 'I hope you are fit.' She knew how to issue a challenge.
We stood in silence for a time. Wrapped in cloaks against the sea breeze, and closely wrapped up in each other. She must have looked like a tearful wife bidding farewell to an official who was off on a long overseas tour. I must have looked like some fellow who was bravely managing not to seem too keen on the freedom ahead.
There would be no farewells. Ours was a different kind of freedom. We had always enjoyed life on the wing together. We both knew the dangers. We thought about them, even there on the quay side when it was far too late. Perhaps I should have left Helena and the babes at home. But how many careful adventurers make that sensible choice, bum off, survive endless danger and hardship, then return to the Golden City only to find that all their treasures have been wiped out by marsh fever?
There was a virulent strain of marsh fever in Britain. Still, our H
destination was coastal. Beyond the Great King's picturesque harbour
outside his palace would lie windswept open water, not stagnant lakes and fens. Mind you, we had to cross two seas to get there; one was a
terrifying stormy strait.
Helena and I thought that life was to be lived together. Private, domestic and shared. Shared with our family: two children, one complaining nursemaid, one scruffy dog. Plus my two assistants, the Camilli. And thanks to the Fates recovering their sense of fun, with the addition on this quay side of my sister Maia and all her children- who were still not coming to safety with us, but who were getting in the way seeing us off. Then there was Petronius. He had tagged along, saying he wanted to visit his daughters in Ostia.
'Got your socks?' I heard him mocking the two Camilli. The word was new to them. When we hit the next ship, crossing the cold and wind-ravaged Gallic Strait, whichever of the two was still with us would work out the point of knitted one-toe socks.
'We could end up with both of them,' Helena muttered quietly.
'Oh yes. Your father thought it worth a formal bet.'
'How much?'
'Too much!'
'You two are incorrigible… Father is heading for trouble. My mother ordered both my brothers to stay in Rome.'
'We're taking both, then. That clinches it, sweetheart.'
Now we were both smiling. Helena and I would enjoy watching the lads trying to choose the right moment to confess.
Hyspale was feeling queasy before she was even on the boat. Once aboard, Helena dragged her off to the tiny cabin, taking Maia with them to help calm the woman down. I went below decks with Aelianus, stowing our long- distance baggage. Justinus had the thankless task of explaining to the ship's crew that some items were wanted on the journey. We had a good system of identifier-tags. Regardless of that, someone had mixed up everything. Nothing was missing as far as I could tell, but there seemed to be baggage I knew nothing about.
It is always unsettling, as you wait for a long journey to start. In retrospect, perhaps there was more tension
