Shadows in the Night (38 page)

“But why is it there?” I asked. “It can’t have been designed like that?”

“Drains,” Lentus sighed. “That floor ain’t laid right, it slopes inwards, so any liquid would collect at the back here—blood from the sacrifices, water from the purifying, that sort of thing. It was meant to slope to one side, see, where there’s a drain-hole to carry everything away. Stupid tilers the master brought in, couldn’t lay an egg, never mind a decent marble floor. Mind you, to be fair, it was all being done in a hurry. By the time we realised, the walls was nearly up, so we had two choices—either take the whole building down and start again, or else put in a false wall, so we could sort out the drainage from the back.”

I’ll skip all the technical stuff about levels and pipe diameters. The point was, we now knew how the bodies had got into the sanctum.

Quintus said, “Thank you, Lentus, that’s very helpful. Now, have you any idea who brought those bodies into the sanctum this morning?”

“No, sir, I haven’t. And you can torture me or do what you like, but that’s all I know.”

Quintus dismissed him, and we went back inside.

“Lex Domitiana,” he murmured. “An interesting little piece of legislation. Remind me when it was passed, exactly?”

“Given our present Caesar and his paranoia about Palace freedmen, any time now, I should think.”

He grinned “So we know how they were moved, but not who by, or where from. Or who killed them. Still, it’s a start.” He bent down for a close look at the two figures lying side by side. “They have no wounds on them. It must have been poison of some kind. With two fit young soldiers, the killers probably didn’t want to risk force. Poison would be easier.”

“Their servants said they were with some young Brigantians last night. They must have been lured into a trap.”

Quintus nodded grimly, and gently touched Marius’ face, peering closely at the mouth; then he touched Junius’ and recoiled as if he’d been burned. “Gods, Aurelia, he’s still warm. I think he may be still alive!”

So he was, but his pulse was very weak. We carried his limp body outside into the sunshine, and Quintus said, “We must get the poison out of his system. Make him sick.”

I’ll draw a veil over exactly how we did this. Just take it from me that we made him very sick, and it worked. Lying in front of the sanctum, on some sacking we borrowed from the builders, he slowly dragged himself back to consciousness. A groggy and uncertain consciousness, but nevertheless, he opened his eyes and saw us, and knew us.

He looked very boyish and vulnerable; his sandy hair was damp with sweat, and his light-grey eyes had trouble focusing. I crouched down on the ground beside his head, and took hold of his hand, which was icy cold. I said softly, “Junius, you’re all right. You’re safe, and you’re among friends. This is Quintus Antonius Delfinus. Can you tell us what happened to you?”

“Oh gods!” He gave a moan, and licked his lips.

“Shall I get you some water?” I asked.

“No,” Junius said hoarsely. “It will…spread…the poison.”

Gods, he thinks he’s dying. Perhaps he is. But he was speaking again, and I had to concentrate to hear him.

“Tell Lucius I’m sorry. I’ve made a complete mess of things.”

“What happened?” Quintus asked.

“We met two natives by the river. A girl and a boy. They said they’d take us to see the Chief, but we’d have to wait a while…. They gave us some of their mead. I realised it was poisoned, but too late. Don’t remember any more. Where’s Marius?”

“Dead, I’m afraid,” Quintus answered gently.

“It’s best. He was helping the Shadow-men.”

“We realised,” Quintus interrupted. “How long have you known?”

“After the eclipse. He kept getting separated. I tried and tried but…couldn’t change his mind. They wanted me to join too. I thought, if I pretended to go along, I could learn…and report back…so I let them think I sympathised…said I’d help. Tried to stay with Marius…stop him doing too much harm.”

“Oh, gods, Junius, if only we’d known. You were playing a very dangerous game!”

“I should have told Lucius. But I kept thinking, just one more day, just a few more hours, and I’ll know everything. And then when Albia was in danger…I didn’t want even to pretend any more. I told Marius I’d die rather than hurt Albia….I’m sorry.” He began to cough, and was sick again.

I wiped his mouth and smoothed the hair back from his face. “Junius, tell us all you can. Have you seen the Shadow of Death?”

“Only with the mask on.” His breathing was ragged. “He’s tall and fair…carries himself well. And from what they say…it’s not…not….” He had another spasm of coughing. “Not for money. For revenge. Find…a Roman who hates Rome.”

“We’ll find him,” Quintus promised. “And you’ll help us, when you’re better. Now, did you get any idea where their hideout is?”

“I heard them mention the ‘house in the rock.’ They said.…it’s so secret, nobody will find it.”

“House on the rock?” Quintus said thoughtfully. “Surely there are dozens of houses built on rocks on the hillsides?”

Junius gave a tiny shake of his head. “No. Not on…
in
the rock. Maybe a cave….”

Quintus turned to me. “Are there any caves near here?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What else did you get, Junius?” Quintus asked.

But Junius began coughing again. His skin was greyish; sweat stood out on his face, and his eyes were starting to glaze. He wasn’t going to recover, and there wasn’t much time.

“Have you any message for Albia?” I asked. Quintus glared at me for changing the subject, but Junius smiled.

“Yes. Tell her I love her. Too late now. Tell her…and tell my father…I died for Rome.” His eyelids closed, and he slipped back into unconsciousness. We both tried to rouse him, but a short while later he died.

I felt a numbing sadness. Here was the ruin of a lively, intelligent young officer, not much more than a boy; whether he’d only pretended to be tempted along with his friend we would never know, but in the end he was killed by the Shadow-men because he wouldn’t be a part of their campaign of terror against the girl he loved. Poor Junius, and poor Albia. I sent a silent prayer to the gods of the Underworld to receive him kindly.

“We can tell his father he died for Rome,” I said to Quintus. “And Albia too. Can’t we?”

He looked at me doubtfully. “You don’t think he was seriously helping the enemy?”

“Who knows? I doubt it, but…anyway, he came back to us in the end. Does it matter now?”

He shrugged. “No. No, it doesn’t.” Suddenly he swore. “So close,” he muttered. “So very close. Gods, what an idiot! If he had to try something so dangerous, why couldn’t he have at least let Lucius know, then perhaps we could have given him some support. He must have realised they would kill him if they thought he was slipping away from them, and knew too much about them.”

I felt tired and depressed by it all. “Gods, Quintus, why is everything such a mess?”

“If you don’t like mess, you shouldn’t be working with an investigator. It goes with the job.”

“Your job. Not mine. And I just feel….”

“You just feel sad, and so do I, but there isn’t time. We have to concentrate on catching the Shadow of Death. Later there’ll be time to be sad.” He took my hand and held it as he went on: “The Shadow-men are very sure of themselves, to kill two Roman officers and leave them in such a public place in broad daylight. If you ask me, the whole rebellion is about to erupt. Like a volcano that’s been rumbling, and suddenly starts spitting rocks and fire.”

He shivered in spite of the heat. Like me, just for a few heartbeats, he was remembering Pompeii.

“Junius said the Shadow of Death is a Roman who hates Rome,” I mused. “Which ties in with that cryptic remark the old Druid made. ‘When love feels itself betrayed….’ He meant love of country, not of a person.”

“There are still three people who have grudges against Rome. Balbus, and Felix, and of course Vitalis. All of them in a position to be using the natives here to get revenge.”

“We’ve already agreed that the traitor isn’t either Felix or Balbus. They’ve both had something they valued destroyed by the rebels. The one person who hasn’t lost or suffered anything so far is Vitalis. And he’s a Roman who hates Rome, if ever I met one.”

“I agree. We can go on forever, supposing and speculating about bluffs and double bluffs, but I think we should accept the answer that’s staring us in the face. The Shadow of Death has to be Vitalis.”

I got to my feet, brushing the dust off my tunic. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

Quintus stood up too. “He’s presumably at Silvanius’ villa now. We’ll go straight there and arrest him. Then I’ll borrow a couple of your men and escort him to Eburacum to be locked up.”

But Vitalis wasn’t at the villa. The door-slave said he hadn’t returned there since the disaster at the temple.

We were shown into the beautiful dining-room. It was decorated with flowers and greenery, and the tables were crammed with delicious food. Silvanius was sitting in solitary state, looking utterly miserable.

“Valerius, Aurelia, you must forgive me,” he said, getting up to greet us. “I’m afraid I’m poor company. I sent my friends home. I—I’m not feeling very sociable.”

Quintus said, “I’m sorry, Councillor, this isn’t a social call. I’m here to ask for your help officially. I’m afraid I’ve been less than truthful about my presence in Oak Bridges. I’m here to investigate the native trouble in this area.” He produced one of his high-powered government passes and handed it to Silvanius, who examined it carefully and exclaimed, “My dear Valerius, if you’re on the Governor’s service, I’m yours to command. Whatever you need, just name it.”

“Thank you. Aurelia has been helping me,” Quintus went on. “And we’re getting close to finding out who’s leading the Campaign of Terror.”

“Good,” Silvanius said. “Very good. May I know who you think it is?”

“I’m not quite ready to make it public,” Quintus replied. “But as Chief Councillor, you’ll be among the first to know when I do. But now we need to have a word with your son. I gather he’s not here. Do you know where he’s gone?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Silvanius said sadly. “I haven’t seen him since I left the temple.”

“You’re quite sure? You’ve no idea at all?”

“No. No, I haven’t. And I must admit I’m quite worried about him. He’s been keeping bad company, I’m afraid, seeing too much of some of the anti-Roman youngsters in this district. I didn’t take it seriously to start with. I thought it was just young men showing off. But now….” He looked close to tears.

“You think he may be involved with the Shadow-men?” I prompted.

“The way he behaved at the temple just now!” Silvanius burst out. “He didn’t seem concerned at the dreadful thing that happened. He didn’t even seem surprised. He just stood there and smiled. I asked him to stay and help me, and he turned away and walked off. And now he’s gone. It isn’t…it isn’t the way I expected my son to behave.”

“No,” Quintus said. “I’m afraid you’ve good reason to be worried. We think he’s gone further than mere youthful foolishness. He’s got himself deeply involved with the rebels.”

“Oh, dear gods!” Silvanius put his head in his hands, then he seemed to get control again and looked up. “What are you going to do? Can you—I mean is there anything you can do to help him? He’s only a boy, and if he’s done wrong, then….” He trailed off, conscious of Quintus’ unwavering stare.

“We must find him and talk to him,” Quintus said. “If he decides to co-operate with us, and helps with my investigation…well, let’s just say that’s his best course of action. You understand me, I think.”

Silvanius nodded silently. He knew as well as anyone in the province the price that’s paid by rebels.

“Meanwhile,” Quintus went on, “may we talk to your major-domo? He might have some idea where Vitalis has gone.”

But the major-domo had nothing to add. He confirmed that Vitalis had not been home since leaving for the temple ceremony earlier in the morning.

“We all assumed he would be attending the master’s celebration dinner,” the man said. “With the—ah—the change of plan now, I’m afraid I don’t know what he will do. His body-slaves could help, perhaps?”

But a search failed to find Vitalis’ three personal slaves. They had vanished like their master.

Quintus said, “Councillor, I must ask you to get word to me immediately if you hear any news of his whereabouts.”

Silvanius nodded. “Yes, of course. There may be a perfectly innocent explanation for his disappearance.”

And if there is, I thought, I’m the Queen of Brigantia.

We had various practical arrangements to make, so Silvanius lent us the use of a room and a secretary. He even provided lunch—his major-domo brought us a tray of food and wine, and we ate as we worked.

We sent a message asking Saturninus to join us, and in the privacy of our borrowed room, we outlined enough of the case to explain to him why we wanted Vitalis arrested. He wasn’t particularly surprised, and undertook that he and his lads would keep a sharp lookout for Vitalis, but we all knew it was unlikely they’d catch sight of him. He had presumably gone to ground in his hideout, but Saturninus was as baffled as I was by the name “house in the rock.”