Buried Too Deep (10 page)

Nor have I, I added silently, as he went to rummage about in the wagon and came back with a large crowbar. “This ought to do it.”

The top of the box was of solid-looking planks, and was tightly nailed down all round the edges. With some difficulty he got the point of the crowbar under the lid at one corner, and began to lever it up, grunting with the effort. Gradually, with a high rending noise, some of the nails wrenched free, but most of them held firm. Taurus is as strong as two ordinary men, but he was struggling, and as he continued to force the box open, the planks began to split. With one final Herculean heave he prised a good section of the lid off. As it fell to the ground, we all craned forward to see inside.

In the middle of the box was a round wicker basket containing a man’s head. Packed all around the basket, filling the chest to the brim, were thousands of small blue-grey pebbles.

But no gold. Not even any small change in copper.

Chapter X

We all stood like lumps of rock, unable to move or speak. The shock of finding the gold had been stolen was bad enough, but the sight of that head, its eyes open and staring up at us, was like the worst nightmare. Violent death always makes me queasy, and I feared I was going to be sick. It wasn’t that the head appeared bloated or decayed. It was remarkably normal, if you can say that about a bodiless head in a basket, which made it much worse.

It had belonged to a man in his late twenties or early thirties, pale skinned and clean-shaven, but with a day’s growth of stubble. His eyes were blue, his eyebrows were pale, and his fair hair was unusually long. He’d have been easily recognisable, except I didn’t recognise him at all.

Taurus broke the shocked silence. “The poor man. Who was he, I wonder?”

Nobody answered. I glanced at Lucius, and got another shock. He was white and trembling, looking as if he’d seen a dead man’s shade. Was he scared? My brother? No, he couldn’t be, not of the head itself, appalling as it was. He’s used to dealing with violence and death in his job, and it would distress and horrify him, but not scare him. So presumably he must recognise the dead man, and it must be someone important. “Do you know him?” I asked softly.

“No.”

He was lying, and we both knew it, but I let it go for now.

He addressed the fishermen. “He must have been one of the crew. Were any other crew members seen when the boat hit the rocks? Or have you found any bodies since?”

The old man replied, “No, sir, nobody at all.”

“Voltacos’ men must have killed them then, and left us just one. Just this one…but that means they had this chest ready to put into the boat in place of the real cargo. How did they know? Gods, I don’t understand this.”

I didn’t either, but the old fisherman grasped the drift of Lucius’ thought. “You’re thinking maybe the cargo was stolen before ever the boat got here?” He scratched his beard. “And then the
Sea Horse
was set adrift without a crew, and that’s how it finished up as a wreck? Could be so, and that’s a fact. There are pirates further south, they say, but they don’t come here, they leave Voltacos alone.”

“The warship would have prevented anything like that,” Lucius growled. “No, Voltacos and his Gauls have done this. They must have.”

“Let’s see what we can see.” The grey-haired fisherman walked to the chest and extended his hand palm downwards over the head, intoning a short prayer for forgiveness from the gods of the bay. I soon saw why. He bent over the basket and gently moved the long hair back from the head.

“No, I doubt this is Voltacos’ doing.” He gently re-arranged the hair and straightened up again. “He always cuts one ear off anyone he kills. It’s his mark, his sign. He lacks an ear himself, see, from an old battle wound. This poor fellow has both ears on him.”

I felt my stomach start to heave, and walked quickly away, turning my back on them all and gazing resolutely out beyond the bay. The quiet blue sea sparkling gold in the sun calmed me a little, and I managed not to be sick.

By the time I felt strong enough to go back to the others, my brother was moving to confront the two fishermen, and anger radiated out of him like the heat from the camp-fire.

“You’re just making excuses to cover up the fact that you didn’t guard the boat properly. You told me you watched it carefully from the evening it landed here, to the next morning when my men came. You’re lying.”

“We did watch,” the old man answered stoutly. “From the time it was driven on the rocks almost at dark, the day before yesterday. Like I told you.”

“And you stayed on guard here all night? All night long, in the storm?”

“Yes. We was on top of the cliff, sheltering in them trees, but we never left.”

“Then you couldn’t have seen if anybody was below in the bay tampering with the cargo, could you?”

“No, but we’d have seen anyone going down the cliff path,” the son protested. “They’d have been fools, mind, but we’d have seen ‘em, and we didn’t. And nobody came in by water, neither, they’d have been smashed to splinters for sure. The waves were crashing into the cliffs like a hammer on an anvil.”

“And in the morning?”

“We were here all the time,” the young man insisted. “The storm’d blown itself out by dawn, and we sent my brother off to your camp to tell you about the wreck, so’s Father and I could stay on watch here.”

The old man added, “And all that time there was nobody else here, and no sign anyone ever had been.”

“I still say you’re lying,” Lucius snapped.

“We are not,” the old fisherman replied. “Look, sir, see it from our point of view. We were hoping for a reward when you got the box ashore. Your young officer promised us a finder’s fee for telling him where the boat was, and a share of the cargo if it turned out to be valuable. Which we thought it was, so we kept a good eye on it.”

“Well you’re not getting a copper coin out of me today.”

“But that’s not fair! Me and my son reported the wreck as soon as we could, and we’ve spent ages here looking after it.”

“Looking after it?
Merda,
you’ve got a nerve, expecting to be paid for letting Voltacos’ Gauls steal the cargo, kill a man, and put him…” He stopped, too furious to continue. “Just think yourselves lucky I don’t have you thrown in prison for helping them.”

“But we didn’t help them!” The old man was angry now. “We brought your men news of the boat, and we guided them to it. Why would we have done that if we’d pinched whatever was inside it?”

“He’s got a point, Lucius.” I spoke in Greek, which I was pretty sure the fishermen wouldn’t understand. “I’m not saying they aren’t capable of looting a wreck, but they wouldn’t have told your boys about it afterwards. Besides, if you go back on your decurion’s promise of a finder’s fee, you’ll never get any useful informers on this stretch of coast ever again.”

“But if I reward them for not keeping a proper lookout…”

“You still owe them the usual finder’s reward, whatever that is. Pay it and let’s get out of here.”

Lucius considered, then nodded. “You’re right, Sis.” He turned to the two natives and spoke in British. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re entitled to the finder’s reward, and you’ll have it. It’s just…well… it’s all been a shock.” He took six denarii from his belt-pouch and handed them to the old man.

“Thank you. A shock for us all, it is.” He tucked the coins away in his own pouch. “I’m sorry you haven’t found what you wanted. And think on what I’ve said. Voltacos may be an evil bastard, but he didn’t do this. Now we’ll be on our way.”

“And if you need us again, you only have to ask.” The young fisherman winked at me. He understood Greek after all.

They left us, and Lucius walked to the cliff edge and gazed out to sea just as I’d done. I went to stand with him, and touched his arm gently. “You recognise that head, don’t you? Who was he?”

“His name was Rollus.”

“Rollus? Not the same…”

“Yes. The man I told you about, our half-brother.”

“That’s dreadful. I’m so sorry.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in his existence.”

“But you do, and you’re upset. What was he doing on the
Sea Horse?
”

“The gods alone know. I suppose he must have volunteered to join the crew. To impress me, perhaps…I don’t know, Relia. But to find a brother, and then to lose him again so soon, it’s a sorry business.” There were tears in his eyes.

“At least we can give him a proper burial. Shall I tell Taurus and Otho to start making a pyre?”

“Here? No, certainly not. We’ll take him home to the Oak Tree.” He lifted his head, and recovered some of his usual decisiveness as he started planning the next few hours. “You and I will ride on ahead, and call in on Albia as we planned. We’ll take a couple of my lads with us as escort, the rest can stay here and get back to searching for Voltacos. The wagon can follow at its own speed.”

He turned to Taurus and Otho. “You boys load the basket into the wagon and bring it home as quick as you can. Bring the chest too. You can leave the pebbles.” If that was meant as a joke, it didn’t raise the faintest smile.

Taurus glanced unhappily at the head. “You’re not leaving us with….with…
him?
” Taurus is Italian born, but he’s as superstitious as any barbarian when it comes to encountering unexpected death. “What if his shade is here now, looking for revenge? Suppose it thinks we killed him? What’ll it do to us?”

“It won’t do anything,” I said. “It’ll know that we weren’t to blame for this, and you’re taking him home to give him an honourable funeral. The important thing is, we must treat him kindly and with respect. Cover him up now, and guard him carefully on the way back to the mansio.”

“You ought to say a prayer, though, just to be sure,” Taurus insisted, looking at my brother.

“Yes, perhaps we ought.” Lucius stepped close to the box and invoked the gods of the Underworld, asking them to protect the dead man. Taurus fetched a blanket from the wagon, and Lucius laid it carefully over the basket, which he carried to the wagon. Taurus followed with the empty chest.

We all felt relieved, and as the tension ebbed away, we realised how cold and hungry we were. Everyone walked to the fire, and I began handing out beakers of warm wine.

Lucius took his mug in both hands and drank its contents down in one go. “Now, boys, get that fire out and the wagon packed, and let’s be on our way.”

Otho went to fetch the oxen, while Taurus stowed away his tools and the cooking gear. As he was dousing the fire, one of the soldiers on guard called out, “Men coming from the south, sir. Three mounted, with cudgels. I don’t think it’s a welcome party.”

A tall black-haired Roman followed by two natives came riding quickly towards us on quite decent horses. The lookout was right, they were not pleased to see us, and while they were still some distance away the leader yelled, “What’s going on here?”

The soldiers quietly formed themselves into a defensive ring surrounding us and our wagon and animals. Lucius took up a position facing the newcomers just outside the ring, and without thinking I went and stood beside him. We waited quietly till the riders came up.

They didn’t dismount, but the Roman barked, “I said, what’s going on? Who are you, and what are you doing on my uncle’s land?”

Lucius smiled amiably. “I’m Lucius Aurelius Marcellus, on the staff of the provincial Governor, and I’m here on His Excellency’s business. Who wants to know?”

“Ferox, estate manager for my uncle Ostorius Magnus. And he doesn’t care for trespassers on his property.”

Lucius ignored his surly tone and continued to smile. ”I don’t blame him, but this isn’t his property. This section of the Headland belongs to Chief Bodvocus of the Parisi tribe. Your uncle’s lands start beyond that boundary-marker there.” He gestured towards a big white boulder standing some way from us. “And I have Bodvocus’ leave to be here, so there’s no question of trespass.”

Ferox snorted. “Bodvocus claims this bit of land, but legally it’s ours. The boundary stone is
there.”
He pointed inland to where an even larger white rock stood. “Bodvocus is a typical native peasant, always trying to scrounge a few more yards of settlers’ property. That’s why, when I saw you and your men, I thought I’d better come and take a look. And I still want to know what you’re doing here.”

Lucius and I glanced at each other. We both knew Bodvocus, and he was no peasant, but a powerful chieftain, and friendly to Rome. Still, quarrels over boundaries are common enough among farmers, and the last thing we wanted was to get involved in one. Lucius said, “We came to salvage some government property from that wrecked boat down there.” He nodded towards the bay. “We’ve finished our work now, so we’re leaving.”

“What property?” Ferox demanded.

“I can’t talk about that, I’m afraid. It’s confidential. As I said, I’m here officially, on the Governor’s behalf. That’s all you need to know.”

“Officially? Really?” Ferox sneered down at us. “Looks to me as if you’ve just come for a nice day out by the sea. Brought the girl-friend along, I see. She’s here officially too, I suppose?”

“Yes, she is. May I present Aurelia Marcella. She runs the Oak Tree Mansio, west of here on the road to Eburacum. I requisitioned a wagon and some men from her, and she wanted to come along to see the salvage. As she’s my sister, I saw no objection. Do you?”

“Whether I object,” Ferox snarled, “depends on whether you’re telling the truth. But if you’re leaving now, I haven’t time to waste finding out. So get on your way, and don’t let me see you snooping round here again, all right?”

Lucius took a step forward, at the same time pulling something small and shiny from his belt-pouch, and holding it out towards Ferox. “I suggest you look at this.”

It was his Government pass, a bronze medallion, the symbol of his authority to act in the name of the Governor of Britannia. He rarely produced it, since mostly he was involved in undercover work. But its effect, when he did show it, was always powerful, and Ferox’s expression of consternation was very satisfying.

“I see. Well of course my uncle would want me to do anything I can to co-operate with the Governor’s officers.”

“I’m sure he would,” Lucius answered. “I expect to be meeting him quite soon in the course of my investigations. I’ll be sure to tell him how zealously you look after his interests, even on other people’s land.”

Ferox dismounted and stopped scowling, though he didn’t go as far as a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said sourly. “As you know, we’re new arrivals, and we’re still learning our way around.” He held out his hand to Lucius. “I meant no offence, and you’ve taken none, I hope.”

“None at all,” Lucius said, and they shook hands.

“And no offence to your sister.” He turned to me, but didn’t deign to shake my hand.

“Certainly not. You were just doing your job.” But I didn’t like this man’s rudeness, nor the way he was laying claim to his neighbour’s land.

“You see I have to be on watch the whole time,” Ferox said, “and not just because of Bodvocus’ tricks. We’ve been having trouble with raiders on the coast this year.”