Buried Too Deep (16 page)

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Authors: Jane Finnis

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BOOK: Buried Too Deep
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“There’s nothing more important than good food.” Clarilla chattered brightly as we went out into the corridor, and headed not for the kitchen, but for her own small study. She closed the door firmly once we were inside, and we sat down.

“Aurelia, I’m sorry to drag you away in that cloak-and-dagger fashion, but I need a private word. Private from Publius, I mean, not from Quintus. You and he are my only hope.”

“Gods, Clarilla, what is it? You know we’ll help if you need us. Is it about this proposed marriage with Vividus? I could see you’re not keen on it, but surely Clarus won’t force you into it against your will?”

“That’s part of it. I know my brother wants the match, but he would never compel me to marry someone I really hate, and anyway he couldn’t. I have money of my own, left by my late husband’s will, so I can do as I please. But I’m hoping—I’m wishing, if that doesn’t sound too horrible—that you find something about those Ostorii that would make Publius consider them an unsuitable connection.”

“I can promise you Quintus and I will find out everything we can about the whole Ostorius family. If they have any skeletons in their clothes-chests, you’ll be the first to hear.”

“Thank you. But I want to ask you to help over something else, something concerning a favourite young relative of ours. It’s Bodvocus’ daughter Elli. She’s in some sort of trouble and has written to me begging me to visit her. I can’t go immediately, because Publius is giving a big banquet here in a few days and I am to be his hostess as usual. And anyway, Publius has forbidden me to interfere in Elli’s problems, for fear of offending Bodvocus.” She smiled. “So any action I do take will have to be discreet.”

“Point taken. Has Elli told you what sort of trouble she’s in?”

“She’s in love with one man, and betrothed to another.”

I sighed. “Ah. She’s promised to Coriu, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

“I heard it was more a marriage of convenience than a love match. Who’s the lad she’s in love with?”

She replied with another question. “Did you know that Magnus has a nephew called Aquilo? A younger boy, and not in the least military like Vividus.”

“Magnus did mention him. But—you’re saying Elli is in love with the youngest Ostorius boy?”

“I think so. She hasn’t mentioned any names in her latest letter, but earlier this year when she wrote, she was singing his praises very loudly.”

“And you want me to find out if it really is Aquilo she’s fallen for, and discourage her?”

“I don’t know about discouraging her. I haven’t met Aquilo, but I’ve heard a little about him. By all accounts he’s a thoroughly likeable young man, quite different from his brothers and his uncle. He’s never been in the army, so he hasn’t an ounce of military ambition. He says he just wants to live peacefully with everyone.
Everyone,
settlers and Parisi.”

“All Magnus said about him, rather disparagingly, was that he likes music and writes poetry, and wants to go and study in Greece. That made me like the lad already.”

She nodded. “It appears that he’s the most civilised member of the family. Could you find a way to meet him while you’re staying with Albia? And then give me your honest opinion about the boy?”

“I’m sure I can manage that. Candidus and Albia are on good terms with all their neighbours.”

“Oh, I’d be so grateful. I trust your judgment, you’re not easily taken in. Then I’ll know whether I should be encouraging Elli or dissuading her.”

“Do you want me to visit Elli too, and hear her side of the story?”

“Oh, would you?
Could
you?”

“I don’t see why not. If you give me a letter for her, or perhaps a small present, that’ll give me an excuse for a visit to Bodvocus’ place without making him suspicious.”

“I will. I’ll write a note with a small gift, and have one of our boys bring it to you at the Oak Tree. And I’ll get Publius to write a short letter to Bodvocus, then you’ll have a chance to meet him too. I won’t mention Elli, but I can persuade Publius that you ought to meet our relatives, to help with your investigations, and he’ll write you a letter of introduction.”

“Excellent. What’s Bodvocus like?”

“Pleasant enough, in a rather lofty way. His family is very old and very high-born, so he looks down his nose at most of the world.”

“Not you and Clarus, though, surely.”

“Oh no, we’re family. If it wasn’t for that, I don’t suppose we’d feel we have much in common with him. He’s quite old-fashioned, prefers the traditional ways of doing things. Even to the spelling of his name—ending it in -
os
, as his forefathers did, not in the Roman style, ending in
–us
.” She smiled. “He gets very annoyed if Romans call him Bodvocus. Which many of them do.”

“Including the Ostorii, I expect.”

“Coriu’s not a bad young man at all,” Clarilla mused, “and I think Elli would have been happy enough with him if she hadn’t met Aquilo. You know, the poets go on ad nauseam about the joys of true love, but in real life it can be rather an inconvenient emotion, don’t you think?”

There was more, but that was the gist, and I was longing to talk to Quintus about it. But Clarilla had made me promise to tell nobody but Quintus, so I couldn’t discuss it in front of Titch. However, we could discuss our latest travel plans.

“So I’m off to see Albia, and you’re off to visit Ostorius Magnus,” I said to Quintus. “You’ll be setting off tomorrow, presumably?”

“I could go today.”

“If you wait till tomorrow, I’ll come with you. I need a few hours here before I disappear again. Margarita’s very good, but I can’t just leave her to do everything.”

“All right. Getting to know the Ostorius family can wait another day.”

“Excuse me,” Titch spoke up, “but is this the same Ostorius family that came to buy horses from you the other day? Me dad was telling me about Uncle Magnus.”

“Yes, the same. Why, do you know them?”

“Only by reputation. I hope you got paid for the horses.”

“I did, yes. Why? Tight with their money, are they?”

“Magnus is what you might call a legend in the legions.” He stopped. “I don’t want to speak out of turn if they’re friends of yours. I was just interested, that’s all.”

“They’re not special friends,” Quintus said. “So come on, why is Magnus a legend?”

“He’s the greediest man you’d ever want to meet. He’s got the name Magnus Midas, because he wishes everything he touches could turn to gold. What actually happens is, everything gold he touches turns into thin air and vanishes.”

“He steals, in plain Latin.”

“So they say. It was never proved, otherwise he wouldn’t have made centurion. You didn’t mind me mentioning it, did you?”

“Not at all, no. It’s interesting.”

Nothing more was said till we were through Oak Bridges and almost at the main highway, where we’d turn left towards the mansio. Then Titch stopped the mules and turned to look full at Quintus. “Could I talk to you before we get back? It’s a bit private.”

“Yes. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking on what you said this morning, about how I could serve the Empire even if I’m not in the army. Like you do, did you mean, investigating for the Governor?”

“Something like that, yes. But I investigate for Caesar, not for any particular provincial governor.”

Titch said slowly, “But the Governor here thinks a lot of you, doesn’t he?”

Quintus didn’t answer, so I did. “Yes, that’s right.”

“And they do in the army too, them as has heard your name. They say you help keep the Empire safe.”

“You’ve seen me at work a time or two. Do you think that’s what I do?”

“I reckon it is. You stop conspiracies, and catch rebels. You fight enemies inside the Empire, while the army goes out to fight ’em on the frontier.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“But you don’t always work in Brigantia, do you? Or even in Britannia?”

He shook his head. “I’m not attached to any particular province, so I have to work anywhere I’m sent, like you did in the army. I think the chance to see the world is one of the good things about the job. The pay’s not bad either.” He paused. “Could you see yourself doing the sort of work I do?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“I’ll spell it out in plan Latin. I’d like to offer you a job as an imperial investigator. You’d work for me to start with, while you were learning, but eventually you’d be given assignments on your own. You said you want work where you feel you can make a difference. I can offer you that. What do you say?”

“I say thank you for the offer.” He glanced down at his left hand. “But do you really think I can do it, now I’ve been wounded?”

“Why not? You can still use a sword, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And ride a horse?”

“Aye. Not both at once, though, and I can’t carry a shield properly.”

“How many investigators have you seen charging about on horseback brandishing swords and shields?”

Titch laughed. “So what would the work be? From day to day, like?”

“No two days are the same, that’s another good thing about it. I look for enemies of the Empire, and destroy them when I can.”

“Domitian Caesar…” Titch stopped. “I don’t want to speak treason.”

“Domitian’s dead, so nothing you say about him can be treason now. If you were going to remark that he was paranoid, and made arbitrary decisions, and took out his personal spite on individuals, I’d say yes, he did.”

“But did he make you investigators do that for him? Get rid of people because Caesar didn’t like them, not because they’d done wrong?”

“I think the men based at court probably had to sometimes. I never did. I made sure I stayed out of Rome, and out of court politics. I only went after people I believed were trying to subvert the Empire.”

“Quintus,” I put in, “if you two want to finish this discussion privately, I can easily walk back to the mansio from here.”

“Don’t go on our account, Aurelia. If Titch doesn’t know by now that you’re good at keeping other people’s secrets, he’s not the man I take him for. All right, Titch?”

“Of course. Can I ask another question? Would I get some real investigating work to do even when I’m just starting, or would I be like a servant, looking after the horses and that?”

Quintus said, “You wouldn’t be my servant, but you’d probably have to see to the horses now and then. You’d get real investigating, as you call it, but remember that much of the work would be boring and not very glamorous. I’ll tell you what I look for when I’m recruiting junior investigators, shall I? First, I need men who are quick with their wits as well as with their blades. That’s the most important thing. Second, I need men who believe that defending the Empire is a worthwhile occupation. I know you well enough to be sure you could pass muster on both of those.”

“Yes, I reckon I could.”

“The next point is harder. I need men who’ll usually do what they’re told without arguing, and yet have enough sense to recognise the rare occasion when they must disregard orders and use their own initiative. In the past, you’ve probably erred too much on the side of going your own way, but I imagine the army’s knocked some discipline into you. Am I right?”

Titch half-smiled. “The army isn’t keen on lads using their own initiative, even if they turn out to be right.”

“And last but not least, I need men who are brave. I don’t mean fools who aren’t afraid of anything, because a man without any fear at all is a danger to himself and his comrades, and probably won’t live long. But men who, in spite of being scared, get on with their assignment and see it through. Now, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, which would have broken many soldiers, so there’s no shame in owning up if your army experience has made you, shall we say, a bit more cautious about combat.” He looked the lad squarely in the eyes. “If after everything you’ve suffered, the idea of working with danger, putting yourself at risk, doesn’t appeal…”

Titch flared up like a volcano. “I’m no coward, and you’ve no right even suggesting I am! Cautious about combat? Well naturally I’m cautious, like any sensible soldier, but I’ve not lost me nerve. By Mars, if anyone else but you had suggested I had, they wouldn’t live to brag about it after. So you get this straight. I can take on any job and not let anything frighten me out of it, if I’ve a mind to. I can be the best investigator in the Empire, if I reckon it’s worthwhile. Just because I’ve had to leave the army, that does
not
make me into a coward. Have you got that?”

Quintus answered softly, “I never said it did.”

They stared at one another in silence. Then Titch began to smile, a real smile that showed in his eyes. “Why, you cunning, devious old…by the gods, I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

“I’d say you rode into it.” Quintus was smiling too.

“I’ve never in me life met such a…no, perhaps I’d better not call you what you deserve.”

“Feel free. I’ve been called most things in my time.”

“It wouldn’t be right. If you’re going to be me boss.”

Chapter XV

The forecourt was filling up nicely. Hitched to the railings were several native ponies, a couple of farm carts, and one official gig, and the main door stood wide open, showing the bar-room more than half full.

Quintus helped me down, and turned to Titch, saying softly, “Get something to eat, and we’ll do the same. Then come and find me. We’ve got plans to make for tomorrow.”

Titch saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“No salutes. We’re both civilians now, working with the army but not part of it. If anybody asks, we’re engineers from the Governor’s highways and bridges secretariat, and I’m giving you training in surveying and designing bridges. We can’t disguise from your friends that you’ve left the cavalry, but we can stop them finding out what you’ve decided to do instead.”

Titch grinned. “I’m sure anyone can design a bridge. Just hammer a few stakes into a river bed and lay some planks flat on top to walk on. It can’t be that hard, can it?”

Quintus laughed. “There you are, you’re a natural. I’ll show you some of the basic skills as we go along. For what we’re doing now, it’s a very useful cover, because it lets a man go almost anywhere.”

“Is it all right if I tell me dad?”

“Yes, Secundus knows the work I do. But remind him if he breathes a word to anyone else, I’ll have his guts for catapult springs.”

“I will. And, Quintus Antonius, one more thing…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I’ll not let you down.”

As soon as I could, I took Quintus somewhere private to tell him about Clarilla’s revelations. It was a perfect spring day, so we walked out behind the mansio and into the woods that slope down to the bank of our little river. The trees all had their spring leaves, and I marvelled at just how many different shades of green there are in a wood, from the pale new grass to the golden-green of the oak leaves. The path threaded its way more or less parallel with the river below, and we could see a couple of maids doing the day’s washing, and a short distance upstream one of the farm boys fishing. But there was nobody within earshot, so we sat down on a fallen log in the sunshine.

I told Quintus how Clarilla had asked for our help in preventing the proposed marriage with Vividus.

He wasn’t surprised. “Clarus is keen on the marriage, she’s right there.
He
wants our help to convince Clarilla it would be a good match for her. So he’s hoping we’ll find that the conflict near the coast isn’t any of Magnus’ doing, but is being stirred up by Bodvocus and his people.”

“Bodvoc
us
,” I corrected, and there was a short digression while I passed on Clarilla’s warning on how particular the old chief was about his name.

“Gods, I’ll try and remember,” he grumbled. “But going back to this marriage, Clarus did say he wouldn’t force Clarilla into an alliance she really objected to.”

“How very considerate of him.”

“No, I’m sure he means it. He’s very fond of her, and I did point out how much he’d miss her if she no longer lived at the villa.”

“Well done. But she’s given me another assignment. She wants me to visit Bodvocus’ daughter Elli.” I told her the gist of it, including the part about Clarus forbidding her to interfere.

Quintus was delighted. “It couldn’t be better. It fits in beautifully with my plans.”

“Really? How? I thought you were concentrating on Magnus and his family.”

“I am. I must check them out, I hope by staying with them for at least a day or two. I’ll give the impression I’m on their side, of course, and hope to win their confidence and find out their secrets, if any. But I also need to discover what Bodvocus is up to, and I was wondering how to manage that, if I’m apparently in cahoots with Magnus. I couldn’t think of any convincing reason for visiting Bodvocus without making him suspicious. Lucius can visit him, in fact he probably has already, as part of his search for information about the Gauls, but even he can’t make social calls. But you can, you have the perfect pretext. You’ll call on Bodvocus socially, and then visit his daughter, bringing her a letter from her beloved aunt Clarilla. With any luck you’ll be able to go there more than once, because Elli will want to write a reply. You’ll be staying with Albia, who hasn’t taken sides in the dispute, even though she’s been a victim. They’ll never suspect.”

“Yes, it should work nicely. While you get to know Magnus and his family, I’ll be rubbing shoulders with Chief Bodvocus and Coriu, as well as Elli. And we can meet at Albia’s from time to time to compare notes.”

“Or even if we can’t meet, we’ll be close enough to keep in touch easily. Titch can act as messenger, if we need one.”

I smiled at him. “You did well there, Quintus. Thank you.”

“No thanks needed. I’ve always thought that boy would make a fine investigator, and so he will, as long as I can get him to obey orders once in a while. He’s too intelligent for the army.”

“Most men are,” came a voice close by, and we spun round as a slightly-built dark man emerged from the trees behind us. “Greetings, Quintus Antonius, and greetings, Aurelia.”

“Hawk!” I exclaimed, “you made me jump out of my skin. You might whistle a tune or snap a few twigs, to let us know when you’re about.”

“That would spoil the surprise.” Hawk is my favourite native huntsman, a good friend and the most accomplished tracker I’ve ever seen. His clothes always blend into the colours of the forest, whatever the season, so today he was wearing a homespun cloak of leafy green. He had his hunting-bow over his shoulder, and his big wolflike hound at his heels. “I came to look for you, Aurelia. I’m glad Antonius is here too.”

“I haven’t seen you for a few days,” I answered. “Mind you, you’ve probably been here all the time, just keeping out of sight.”

“That would be telling.” He sat down beside us on the log. “As a matter of fact I’ve been away visiting a very old friend. And I heard some odd news that I thought would interest you.” As usual he spoke in British, while I spoke in Latin. We always conversed like that, even though we understood each other’s languages well enough. I daresay it sounded odd to some people, but not to Quintus, who was used to it.

“Your news is always interesting,” he said. “Tell us more.”

“Aurelia, was your father called Lucius Aurelius Marcellus, like your brother?”

“He was. Why?”

“One more question first. Is it true Lucius is hunting high and low for Caratacus’ gold?”

“No, he’s looking for a missing Government cargo which the Gauls have stolen. But it isn’t Caratacus’ treasure hoard.”

Quintus laughed. “It’s gold though, Hawk. And he’s offering a generous reward, so if you’ve found it yourself…?”

“Ah, now I begin to see. There are two missing hoards of gold, one stolen from a boat, and the other the hoard Caratacus is supposed to have buried.”

“So it seems,” Quintus answered guardedly. “What have you heard?”

“There’s a very old man, a friend of mine called Nertacos, who lives over towards the coast. He’s very lame and almost blind, so he hardly leaves his house these days. I’m fond of him, and I look in now and then for a beaker of beer and a chat about old times. He was a famous hunter and tracker when he was young, one of the best. I was with him the other day when Lucius’ name came up in conversation, something about his men camping on the Headland. Nertacos said he used to know another Lucius Aurelius Marcellus who was in the army here thirty years ago. Could that be your father, Aurelia?”

I felt my heartbeat quicken. “It could, in fact it almost certainly was. Father served in Britannia in Nero Caesar’s time.”

Hawk nodded. “Nertacos knew him then. And he says Aurelius senior found Caratacus’ gold, and Nertacos helped him hide it.”

“Gods, Hawk, I thought that story was just a pleasant family myth. Now I’m starting to believe it.”

“It’s true then?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. We’ve heard that it may be possible our father found some gold coin and buried it, meaning to come back for it, but he never did. He didn’t tell any of us about it, except one—er—distant relative.”

“But he came back to Brigantia to set up the mansio. Didn’t he go and look for it then?”

“We don’t know if he did or didn’t. We assume if he’d found it, we’d have heard. Tell us more about this Nertacos.”

“He was employed by the Roman army as a local guide and tracker, and your father enjoyed hunting, so the two of them became friends. Good friends, when Aurelius saved Nertacos from being killed by a wild boar. Then Aurelius found a basket of gold in a wood while he was hunting on his own, and told Nertacos about it. He gave him half, and asked him to bury the other half for him at a certain spot they both knew, where they were sure it would be safe. They both swore an oath to keep it secret till Aurelius came back for it.”

“Where?” Quintus and I asked together.

“Ah, that’s the question! He wouldn’t tell the exact place, he claimed he couldn’t remember, but I don’t believe that. His body is failing him, but not his mind. All he’d say was that the gold is in a basket, and the basket is in a pit in the noontide shade of a tall tree. From the top of the tree you can see the sea.”

“In the noontide shade presumably means north,” I said. “He didn’t say what kind of tree?”

“No. Just that it was a big one.”

“If Nertacos had a share of the gold when he was young, what did he do with it?” Quintus asked. “If a fairly humble hunter suddenly came into money, surely it would be noticed?”

“I asked him that. He said he went off travelling round the Empire for a couple of years, seeing the world and spending money on wine and women and adventures. Then he came back to his home near the coast here, met a girl, and settled down again as a hunter. Of course that could just be another of his tales, but knowing him, I can believe he’d do that when he was young and free.”

“Then tell me honestly, Hawk,” I asked, “can we believe Nertacos’ story? Do you believe it?”

“I think so. Though of course his family don’t. They’ve always regarded him as a muddled old man who rambles on about days gone by.”

“When Aurelius never came back,” Quintus wondered, “why wasn’t Nertacos tempted to dig up the rest of the treasure for himself?”

“Perhaps he was tempted. But he wouldn’t break a promise to a friend who’d saved his life.”

“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why in the gods’ name didn’t Father simply take his share of the gold with him? Why bury it, especially if that meant entrusting the job to someone else?”

“It was quite a large amount, apparently, and your father thought it would be impossible to keep it secret, or safe. His cohort was on the march most of the time, living in temporary camps, moving on every day or two. There was nowhere he could safely hide such a quantity of coin, and he was afraid it would be stolen. He said there was a known thief in his unit, or I suppose a strongly suspected one, who would have made off with it.”

“Sounds like Magnus Midas,” I joked, remembering Titch’s story.

“That’s extraordinary!” Hawk exclaimed. “That was the name Nertacos remembered. So you know this story after all?”

”Not all of it, but it ties in with something else I’ve heard about those old days. Hawk, could we meet Nertacos ourselves? If he does know the hiding-place, he might be prepared to reveal it to Aurelius’ children. Perhaps if we bring Lucius too…”

“Why, yes, he’d love to see you. You’re his friend’s children, and what’s more, you’re a fresh audience for his tales. He lives with his daughter, their hut’s not hard to find.” Hawk gave us directions, but added, “The gods know whether he’ll tell you where the gold is. But mention my name, and good luck.” He smiled. “I’ll expect at least a gold piece as a reward, you know, if he tells you.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “We won’t forget.”

He became serious again. “I’m only teasing. I’m not sure I’d want it, if I’m honest. Gold is deadly stuff, it brings out the worst in people.”

“You’re telling us to watch our backs?” Quintus asked, serious also.

“I am. I wish you good hunting, but take care, both of you. And bring me news of Nertacos when you come back.” He stepped into the trees, and vanished from view.

Quintus and I sat for a while, trying to digest this astonishing information, and decide what we should do about it. I don’t know how long we sat there, but eventually we heard a voice calling our names, and walked back through the trees towards the paddocks. Titch was standing by the fence, beckoning us to hurry.

“Brutus and his men are here, sir. They’re on the forecourt now.”

“What do you want them to do—go to Albia’s today?” Quintus asked me.

“I think so, yes. Albia may as well have some extra protection straight away. We three can leave in the morning, can’t we?”

We hurried to the forecourt to greet them. Brutus was as solidly reassuring as ever. I told him how glad I was that he’d be helping us, and introduced him to Quintus and Titch. “Can you leave for Albia’s farm today, Brutus? You might not get all the way, but…”

“Maybe not immediately, but certainly in about an hour, when I’ve made sure these lads are reasonably well armed and prepared. Could we borrow a couple of pack mules, please, for equipment?”

“By all means. Take a carriage if you’d rather, or a wagon.”

“No, I want to travel light. Mules will be fine. Are you coming up to your sister’s place too?”

“For a few days, yes, just to make sure everything’s in order. But Quintus and I will stay here tonight, and leave tomorrow. I only got back from there yesterday, and I need a little time here to make arrangements before I go away again. You know Albia, of course, but I don’t think you’ve met her husband Candidus. Or the children, come to that.”

“I didn’t realise you knew Albia,” Quintus put in. “That’s good.”

“I’ve known both the ladies for many years,” Brutus smiled. “Well they were girls when I first met them. I served under their father, you see, and we left the army at more or less the same time. He invited me to stay once at their house at Pompeii. ‘Course, we were all a lot younger then. We had good times though, didn’t we?”

“We did. Quintus’ home was in Pompeii too. Until…you know.”

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