Ruso said, “Where’s the tribune?”
Without taking his eyes off the prisoners, one of the guards said, “Tribune Accius is in the clerk’s office, sir.”
Accius was indeed in the clerk’s office, as was Fabius-something Ruso could have deduced without being told, from the shout of “You must be able to remember somebody!” Several of the quarrymen looked up. One or two glanced at each another. Ruso was surprised too. He had never considered Fabius to be a man who shouted at people except on the parade ground, where behaving like a real centurion was unavoidable.
Ruso found the two officers seated behind the clerk’s desk, which had been pulled into the middle of the room. Judging by their expressions, Optio Daminius-who was standing facing them-had not come up with a satisfactory answer.
“Ruso!” exclaimed Accius, the warmth of his greeting suggesting that he was glad to be interrupted. “Come in. What news?”
“None that I know of, sir,” said Ruso, putting his medical case on the floor. While he had been listening to wheezy chests, pulling teeth, and examining an inguinal hernia, he had heard officers barking orders for all tents to be opened up for inspection. The entire camp had been searched. The boy had not been found.
Ruso had not expected that he would be; it was more a case of convincing both the men and the locals that they were taking this business seriously. A stolen child was much more likely to be hidden on a vehicle, or in a remote shelter, or somewhere in the rolling countryside that stretched for miles in every direction. He said, “My replacement’s on his way, sir.”
To his relief, there had been a message from Valens at the gate. Valens had agreed to leave his own unit in the care of his many underlings and brave the scorn of Pertinax.
Accius said, “Good,” and returned his attention to the man in front of them. He folded his arms on the clerk’s desk, and leaned forward. Beside him, Fabius was slightly red in the face. Now that the tribune had occupied the desk space, Fabius did not seem to know what to do with his hands. Eventually he put them behind his back.
Daminius carried on staring at a point on the opposite wall just above the officers’ heads. The good-luck charm was still strung around his neck, but for once it did not seem to be working. Ruso saw a muscle twitch above his jaw.
“The optio and several of his men had a free afternoon yesterday,” Accius explained.
This was not good news. Since the fort had no proper bathhouse, each man was given one afternoon a week to visit one of the bigger bases nearby. No account of movements was normally expected, and if a man chose to do something else, nobody usually cared.
“Optio, tell the doctor where you were.”
“I went for a run, sir. On my own.”
“Tell him where.”
“I went east along the road to Vindolanda. Then north, up across the building line, west past the lakes, and along the bottom of the cliffs and down through the gap by the stream. I got back here not long before curfew when the gates were still open.”
“And in all that time you managed to speak to nobody nor see anyone who might be able to remember you?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“What about natives?” Fabius prompted, as if they were a species not covered by the tribune’s previous question.
“I may have seen some, sir. I can’t remember.”
Accius said, “And you say you didn’t call in at Vindolanda?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, gods above, man!” exclaimed Fabius. “You can do better than that! We’ve a child to find.”
“I’m very willing to help, sir.”
“Then tell us something useful!” snapped Fabius. He sounded more desperate to clear Daminius’s name than the man was himself. He had come to rely heavily on his optio.
Ruso was puzzled. In other circumstances, if a man had gone for a run preoccupied with some worry or other, the story might have been almost plausible. But the restrictions on lone travel away from the main roads were still in place-something an optio would know very well. Any legionary running across fields on his own would be both conspicuous and cautious. He said, “Tell us what you know about the native family.”
“The father and the eldest son are on the list to watch, sir. The father because he used to stand around chanting to stir up his gods while we were working. The son fought with the rebels in the last troubles. He’s got a short temper and a big mouth. Also I believe they’re connected to the family that kidnapped Regulus.” He swallowed. “And they’re friends of your wife, sir. I’m sorry about the boy, sir.”
“Thank you. What can you tell me about him?”
“I only saw him the once, sir. Eight or nine years old, I should think. Brown hair, gappy front teeth.”
“When did you see him?”
“When we searched the house, sir.”
“Do you have any personal connection with the family?”
“No, sir.”
“You would have no reason to visit them except on official business?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you have any official business there yesterday morning?”
The muscle above the jaw twitched again. “No, sir.”
“So why were you there?”
Daminius blinked and swallowed. Nobody else moved.
Ruso, who liked Daminius and had very much been hoping that he was wrong, said, “You were aware of orders not to go onto native property unaccompanied?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So?”
Daminius looked him in the eye. “I wanted to go and apologize, sir.”
“Apologize?” demanded Fabius.
“I wasn’t happy about the way I’d led the search the day before, sir. Not after I found out what really happened with Regulus.”
Ruso said, “But you didn’t apologize, did you?”
“I saw you coming, sir. I wasn’t supposed to be there and I didn’t have time to wait till you’d gone.”
Accius said, “Even if you had been allowed there, you had no authority to apologize on behalf of the Legion.”
“No, sir. Only on my own behalf.”
Fabius sighed. Ruso reflected that if this was true, then Daminius had more courage than he had himself. If less sense.
“May I speak, sirs?”
Accius leaned back against the wall. “Please do.”
“I’m sorry to be wasting your time, sirs. I swear I don’t know what’s happened to the boy. I’d like to help look for him.”
Accius glanced at his fellow officers. “Any more questions?” There were none. “Thank you, Optio. That will be all for now.”
When the man had been taken back to join the others, Accius said, “Well?”
Ruso said, “The apology story is plausible.”
“Well, we know he was hanging about there for some reason. Why didn’t you mention that before?”
“It was a lucky guess, sir. I thought I caught a glimpse of someone in the woods when I went to try and smooth over this business of the raid with the old man; I didn’t know it was him.”
Accius grunted. “What about the run in the countryside?”
Fabius said, “He’s very clear about the route.”
“He would be,” said Ruso. “It’s one of the standard circuits for training runs.”
Accius shot Fabius a glance. “Is that correct?”
Fabius agreed that it was, although since Daminius dealt with all that, Ruso assumed he was guessing.
Ruso said, “I think the run sounds a bit odd, sir. Especially since nobody’s supposed to be wandering about on his own out there. But that doesn’t mean he took the boy.”
Accius nodded. “I’ll see if I can find his old centurion. See what he thinks. Let’s look at the others for a moment. Fabius, show him the list. Ruso, I’ll need you to help with checking their stories.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fabius passed a wax tablet to Ruso, who read:
Daminius running alone to Vindolanda and back
Mallius to brothel LARENTIA and DELIA then sleeping in barracks.