‘Sir, I believe I have served you well.’
‘Indeed you have. In many ways, most ways, I could not have asked for more.’
‘Sir, I know that my beliefs seem strange to you. But I have committed myself to the faith. That means helping others, easing suffering. Not causing it.’
‘Unfortunately, those beliefs are based on a false assumption: that others share the same attitude to life. If your time with me has taught you anything, surely it must be that they do not. Sometimes we have to kill or be killed. Without Indavara, I expected you to stand by me. You have done so before, but not this time.’
‘It is true I have protected you before, sir. But a man lost his life. I cannot — I must not — kill.’
‘And that is why we must go our separate ways. I am not suited to this life but unfortunately I have no choice. I do have a choice about who I have around me. By the gods, Simo, I work for Imperial Security. A decade ago an agent like me would have spent his time hunting down people like you. It is better for us both. You must accept it; and ready yourself.’
‘But a new master, sir. I wouldn’t know-’
‘You will not make me feel guilty, Simo. I have had my fill of guilt.’
Simo remained there for a while but there was nothing more to say.
Some time after he left, Endymion came up to the mast. ‘Your slave seems very efficient. I aim to have one myself — within five years if the gods are willing.’
‘Choose carefully,’ said Cassius. ‘They can be more trouble than they’re worth.’ He pointed north. ‘Those sails seem to be converging.’
‘The mouth of the Gulf of Aila. From there it’s only two days if the wind doesn’t shift.’
Cassius imagined the captain and his crew must think him a drunk so he waited until Endymion left before drinking once more. He tilted his head back against the mast, the sun warming his face. He closed his eyes and listened to the Tyrus’s bow cutting through the water.
What frightened him now was the prospect of returning to Bostra. He would at least know what had happened to the others but what if the news wasn’t good? And how could he even function in his present condition? Could he ever get back to something approaching normality after what he had been through? What he had done?
For the first time in his life, Cassius would have been happy to stay at sea.
Bostra, May AD 273
‘An odd place to keep such a sacred thing but we didn’t want to attract any attention.’
Governor Calvinus opened the door and led Cassius into the room, which was spacious and secure, with only two high grilled windows.
‘I believe this is where King Rabbel kept his treasures. My wife colonised it with our old statues.’
The six mounted busts were in a corner. All but one — Caesar, by the looks of it — were covered. Calvinus nodded at the broad, reinforced door at the rear. ‘Got the wide access there. Nerva’s centurions were able to wheel it up close then move it inside on rollers. Only he — and they — know it’s here.’
The governor pulled away the white sheet.
There sat the stone on a wooden pallet, its dark surface glittering under even the weak rays of light coming in.
Cassius almost swore aloud at how pointless the whole affair now seemed. A lifeless piece of rock had been moved from one place to another; and how many had died and suffered because of it?
‘Sick of the sight of the thing, I suppose?’ said Calvinus.
‘Something like that, sir. When did they arrive?’
‘Three days ago. You’ve not seen them?’
‘No, sir. I would very much like to.’
‘Of course. Once we’re finished here.’
Calvinus carefully replaced the sheet over the stone, tugging at the material until it hung straight.
Cassius was still staring at it.
Calvinus ushered him away and out into the corridor. ‘Come. Shall I have some food prepared for you, Corbulo? You look terribly thin.’
‘No, thank you, sir.’
Calvinus locked the door. They were in a quiet quarter of the residence; there weren’t even any servants around. The governor replaced the key in a pocket within his toga then put a hand on Cassius’s arm.
‘Are you all right, lad?’
‘Please, sir, do not show me too much kindness. I fear I might embarrass myself.’
‘As you wish. We shall be as swift as we can.’
They spoke in the Table Room, sharing a small jug of expensive-tasting wine. It was late evening and outside attendants were closing doors and shutters.
Calvinus listened carefully, occasionally asking for details and waiting patiently when Cassius hesitated, which was often. It was not only emotion that halted him but the state of his mind; he’d kept up his consumption of wine on the road back from Aila, stopping only when they were in sight of the capital. He told Calvinus everything — except what had happened in the outhouse. When he finished, the governor leaned back in his chair, his florid face even more flushed than usual.
‘By Jupiter, Corbulo. You, Mercator and the men worked wonders down there.’
Cassius finished his wine.
Calvinus refilled his glass. ‘I look forward to telling Tribune Pontius about you raising the spearhead in the middle of that crowd of bloodthirsty Saracens. I doubt he would have had the courage for that, and I know he wouldn’t have had the wit.’
The governor filled his own glass almost to the brim. ‘There’ll be decorations. If not from Abascantius then from me.’
‘Sir, has there been any word from him?’
‘Not yet. But my letter should have reached him by now. I don’t think it’ll be too long before we see him in Bostra again.’
Cassius leaned on the table. ‘Sir, this business with the import tax. Forgive me, but I noted the expression on your face when I mentioned it. Please tell me we can do something.’
‘I would do it in an instant. But such a step would require the permission of Marshal Marcellinus and he has wider concerns than my Arabia.’
‘Governor, I must also ask you about the agreement with Khalima. The man lost his son, he was mutilated, they-’
‘All right. Calm down. Take a deep breath.’
Cassius followed his advice.
‘I agree that we owe the man a debt. And as long as he keeps quiet about it, I will honour the agreement. But a concession to the entire Confederation?’
Calvinus ran a hand through his silvery curls.
‘You will meet with them, though, sir?’
‘Of course. I will send out messengers at dawn and make preparations to leave for Petra. For months I have wanted to see my old allies face to face and you have made that happen, Corbulo. I shall also enjoy telling Pontius and Nerva that it was you who brought the Tanukh back to the table.’
The governor took Cassius’s forearm and shook it hard. ‘I thank you. Rome thanks you.’
Cassius heard the words but they washed over him. ‘Sir, even though Ilaha is dead, the situation remains dangerous down there. Again, forgive my impertinence, but I would advise the utmost haste.’
‘Young man, I have seen and heard enough to know that your advice is worth listening to. For that reason — and the fact that the Tanukh clearly respect you — I would like you to come with me.’
The governor stared searchingly into Cassius’s eyes, then gave half a smile.
‘But I will not ask you to. I see that you need to rest. We will talk again but not now. If you feel troubled, talk to that bodyguard of yours, or perhaps Mercator. Only they will understand what you have been through these last few weeks. Fellowship is all that helps at such times.’
Simo was waiting for him at the East Gate. Their ride up from Aila had taken nine days. Three times more Simo had begged him to reconsider until Cassius had finally snapped at him to be quiet. Now the Gaul seemed to have accepted his fate, which Cassius somehow found even more upsetting. He wished Simo could realise this would affect him too but there could be no doubt it was for the best. Even having him around was a reminder of what he was trying desperately to forget.