“Ah, yes. So I did.” She sighed. As usual, pleasure was followed by regret. “I still haven’t signed anything.”
“I think it would be unwise to retract now, madam.”
“Well, what can I do?” She pushed the slave’s hand aside. There was no sense in letting her get cream all over the hairpiece.
In front of her, Clarus was looking genuinely worried. She said, “I never interfere, as you know, but if I were you, I would consider rearresting the other one.”
“Yes, madam. That was what I was thinking also. I shall see to it.”
“Now, go away. I have to get ready to receive the emperor.”
Clarus did not seem in the least offended at being sent away. He seemed to have grown in her presence. He had to duck to get out of the doorway.
Chapter 84
‘Valens?’
“You’re not going to ask if I’m dead again, are you?”
“No, but what are you doing here?”
Valens yawned and let the tent flap fall closed behind him, cutting out most of the light. “That was quite a ride. I don’t know how Hadrian does it at his age. I thought that little secretary chap was going to expire before we got here. Have you got something to sit on down there? I don’t want a damp backside.”
“On my left.” The chains rattled as Ruso patted the torn goatskin. Valens settled beside him with the weary grunt of a tired man whose muscles had begun to tighten up. “I’m sorry to see you still in this state. I was hoping they’d have sorted it out by now.”
Ruso said, “So was I.”
“I did my best with Tilla, you know.”
“That’s all any of us can do with Tilla. Have you seen her?”
“They said she’s over at the inn. I’ll go and find her in a minute.” Something else occurred to Ruso. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the procurator? Or is he here too?”
Valens yawned again. “The gout’s settled down. I’ve left him in good hands.”
“But aren’t you-”
“The truth is I’m not sure I really want to go to Rome.”
“What about the family?”
“The wife won’t like it,” Valens conceded. “But she’s marginally less frightening than a couple of people I might run into back there.”
“What sort of people?”
“You’d think they’d have more important things to worry about, wouldn’t you? I mean, look at you. Still stuck here in chains on some ridiculous murder charge. You’ve got a real problem.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh by the way, the tribune says he’ll do his best for you. I don’t know why he’s changed his mind, but he seems to be a sensible sort of chap after all.”
“Good.”
“Anyway, Rome: You know how you get chatting to people on a journey? It turns out one of Hadrian’s grooms has a cousin in the household of someone I used to know years back, and apparently I’m still mentioned.”
“Ah.”
“It’s hardly fair. Her father told me to clear off, and I did. It’s not my fault she’s gone and divorced some stuffy old politician because she’s still in love with me, is it?”
Ruso shifted to ease the stiffness in his back. The chains tumbled into a new position.
“Look, is there anything I can get you? Are they feeding you properly?”
Ruso, who had only been rearrested half an hour ago, had not had time to find out. “Go and find Tilla,” he said, “and tell her that I’ve got a plan. Tell her it depends on her staying out of it, whatever happens. Tie her up and gag her if you have to.”
“She won’t like that very much.”
Ruso managed a smile. “Get the scalpel out of her left boot first.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“I’m appealing to Hadrian.”
“Can you do that? You’re supposed to go before the legate.”
“Hadrian knows me. We were stationed together in Antioch. We worked together on the earthquake rescue.”
“Really? You never said.”
“My stepmother says I only have to ask him for a favor and he’ll grant it.” Valens said, “Your stepmother? Does she know him too?”
“Mm,” said Ruso. “Apparently.”
Chapter 85
A traveler approaching a small staging post on the Eboracum Road at about the sixth hour that day might have noticed two soldiers strolling westward along the road toward him. As they grew closer, he might have been mildly surprised to see that while one was a well-built bearded officer whose outfit was respectable if rather dusty, his companion was chiefly notable for the heavy chains linking both wrists to his left ankle. Should he have happened to overhear any of the conversation between this odd couple as they passed by-which was unlikely, since their voices were low-he might have been further surprised to note that in this westernmost province of the empire, they were speaking Greek.
He might or might not have associated the dusty officer with the four cavalrymen riding slowly along a hundred paces behind, but by then his attention would have been diverted by the unusual spectacle of soldiers still striking camp at such a late hour. Whereupon all other thoughts would have been pushed aside by the pressing question of whether the Falcon’s Rest would still have anything decent left for lunch, or whether the soldiers had scoffed the lot.
“Your tribune tells me,” said Hadrian, “that he refuses to accuse you of murdering his relative because you didn’t do it. Meanwhile, my prefect seems to think he has plenty of grounds for an accusation, and you tell me you’re willing to confess.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Explain.”
“I’ll confess if it keeps the peace, sir. But I didn’t do it.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well?”
“I can’t say, sir.”
“I’ve ridden most of the night to get here, Ruso. I’ve got gritty eyes, stiff shoulders, and a bruised arse. Don’t annoy me.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Who did it?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t tell you.”
“You’ll tell me soon enough if I hand you over to the questioners.”
“Probably, sir. But I don’t think it would do either of us much good.”
Hadrian sighed. “And you imagine I won’t accept your confession?”
Ruso swallowed. “I’d very much rather you didn’t, sir.”
“But it would be very convenient, wouldn’t it? The native suspect will remain free, his mutinous comrades-whom your tribune tactfully describes as “boisterous,” by the way-will stop getting themselves into more trouble by accusing my Praetorians of murder; and it will be clear to everyone that the Twentieth Legion answers to its officers, not to some uppity medic and his native girlfriend.”
“On the other hand, sir, you know you would be punishing an innocent man for somebody else’s crime.”
“Given the scale of the convenience, and your apparent willingness to be an unsung hero, that may be a price worth paying.”
“Perhaps, sir.” Ruso swallowed. This was not the way he had imagined the conversation going. Maybe he really had been influenced by his stepmother’s ludicrous presumption of-well, not of friendship, of course; perhaps comradeship would be the word. But back in Antioch, he and Senator Publius Aelius Hadrianus had both been on the same side. Now one of them was the most powerful man in the world, while the other was a nuisance.
Hadrian untied the stopper of his water bottle and took a swig like any common soldier. “I should have Clarus arrest that woman of yours. I hear she’s behind all this.”
“Absolutely not, sir!”
They stepped aside as a rumble of wheels announced the approach of a post carriage. Ruso hopped awkwardly over the ditch and Hadrian busied himself tying the thong back around the stopper. The carriage thundered past, driver and courier oblivious to the fact that they could have halted and delivered many of their messages in person.
“Sir,” put in Ruso as soon as he could be heard, “my wife has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. I won’t confess anything if you arrest her.” Not willingly, anyway. The gods alone knew what he would say once the questioners got to work.