The three Arabians looked at each other. Yorvah touched the curved dagger at his belt. ‘One of these, certainly.’
‘All the men have one?’ asked Cassius.
‘Just about,’ said Mercator.
‘Make sure they all do. What about swords?’
‘Actually a lot of the Tanukh carry legionary-issue blades; thousands were handed out during the Palmyran war.’
‘You can keep your own, then. What about bows?’
Cassius glanced at Indavara but he again seemed content to observe in silence.
‘We have some archers,’ said Andal.
‘Useful to have a few,’ said Mercator.
‘Indeed,’ said Cassius. ‘Tell those that have them and are happy to carry the gear to bring them. What about armour?’
‘Occasionally a helmet or a bit of mail,’ said Andal. ‘Generally the nomads travel light.’
‘Then I’m afraid we must do the same. No armour.’
‘We’ would not include Cassius. In disguise or not, he would be taking his pricey copper alloy mail-shirt.
‘Other than that,’ he continued, ‘each man may bring what he thinks he’ll need, but remind them — nothing else issued by the army. No canteen tins, no entrenching tools, no military belts. Which brings us onto clothes.’
‘Not a problem,’ said Mercator. ‘Forgive me, Officer, but something tells me we’ll have a lot less trouble blending in down there than you will. You have some kind of cover story, I presume?’
‘You presume correctly. Anything else?’
The three locals shook their heads.
‘Mercator, we will need to meet again tomorrow. My villa is the third on the right outside the main gate. Will you come along at the second hour?’
‘Of course.’
‘Very good. Thank you for your help, gentlemen.’
With that the trio turned away.
‘Oh, one more thing,’ said Cassius. ‘I’ve noticed these desert folk are a hairy bunch. Anyone without a beard must grow one.’
As Mercator and the auxiliaries collected up the swords and left, Cassius walked over to Indavara, who was cleaning his dagger blade with a cloth.
‘You seemed to rather lose interest once the fighting stopped.’
Indavara shrugged. ‘Back to the villa?’
‘Yes.’
Once on the avenue, they turned left. A squad of cavalrymen trotted by, roaring at some jape.
‘What do you think of our auxiliaries, then?’ asked Cassius.
‘Not bad.’
‘I’d prefer the pick of the legion. Some good sword-hands?’
‘Like I said, not bad.’
Indavara kicked a stone that skittered away into the end of a barracks. They walked on in silence: past the headquarters building, past the hospital and the warehouse, then onto the empty parade ground.
‘Long ride down to Petra,’ said Cassius. ‘And who knows how far to wherever this bloody stone is.’
Indavara stopped briefly to scratch his shin; the skin there was yet to fully heal.
‘Twenty men,’ added Cassius ruefully as they walked on. ‘The raiders had many more than that when they grabbed the stone. I wonder how many protect it now? Probably a lot more.’
‘Probably.’
‘Mercator and the guard officers seem capable at least, eh? Good to have them with us.’
This time Indavara didn’t even reply.
Cassius stopped in the middle of the parade ground.
Indavara took a few more steps then halted too. ‘What?’
‘You have to come. You have to. Not having Simo will be bad enough. I cannot go on my own. I just cannot. Tell me you’re coming.’
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Abascantius thinks you’re coming.’
‘He may be in for a surprise.’
‘Must I beg?’
‘You wouldn’t beg.’
‘Actually that’s true, but I am asking. One friend to another.’
Indavara gave a slight grin and walked towards the gate.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Cassius. ‘Is that a yes?’
‘It means I’m hungry,’ replied Indavara as he quickened his pace. ‘It’s lunchtime.’
Cassius stood there, watching him. ‘Gods, give me strength.’
Indavara was less critical of Muranda’s cooking than Cassius, but he decided to buy his lunch on the street. One stall sold some excellent spiced sausages and after two of these, followed by a handful of mixed nuts, he felt considerably better. Watching a long column of carts leaving the fortress, he walked slowly back towards the villa along the Via Cappadocia.
Fortuna hadn’t helped him much this time. Sometimes just asking her for guidance steered him to his own decisions and once or twice he thought he’d actually heard her voice, but he still couldn’t make up his mind. He wouldn’t admit it to Corbulo or Abascantius, but the prospect of hunting down this mysterious stone sounded a lot more interesting than sitting around in Bostra, especially now he’d ruined things with Sanari.
Nearing the villa where she worked, he looked over the front wall, hoping she might be there. The small, neat garden was empty. Before he realised it, he’d stopped and put his hands on the wall. He looked at the six windows in turn, hoping to glimpse her face. He saw only darkness beyond the shutters. He thought about walking up to the door, asking to see her. But it was a busy household: her employer had a wife, three children and several other servants. Indavara wouldn’t know what to say, and he’d probably get Sanari in trouble — then she’d definitely never talk to him again.
Suddenly the door opened. Indavara hurried along the street but after a few steps glanced back. The old steward had appeared. He always looked very serious, though Sanari said he was a good-hearted man. In his hand were some rolled-up papers. Indavara continued on his way.
‘Hey. Hey, you.’
The steward came up the path and spoke without looking at him. ‘She’s in the alley there. Hurry up, I don’t want Mistress to see you.’
The old man continued along the street towards the fortress. Indavara doubled back, then jogged down the alley that separated the villa from Lepida’s place. A door opened and Sanari slipped outside. As he hurried up to her, she carefully shut the door. There was no smile this time.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Why didn’t you come and see me?’ she replied, arms wrapped around herself though it wasn’t cold.
‘I–I didn’t know what-’
‘Why did you do it? Why did you hurt him like that?’
‘He was saying things to me. Trying to put me off.’
‘I heard he didn’t wake up for almost an hour. He hasn’t been out of his bed since.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
Indavara just looked at her. He’d never seen her face like this.
‘What did he say to you?’ she asked.
‘It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I know that.’
Someone walked past the end of the alley. They both looked, but whoever it was had already disappeared.
‘You shouldn’t hurt people like that. It isn’t right.’
‘Can I see you later?’
Sanari looked down at the ground. ‘People are talking about you. It will be difficult for us now.’
Indavara was about to reach for her hand when someone called her name.
‘I have to go.’
‘Will I see you again?’
‘Sanari!’ It was a woman’s voice; a well-spoken woman.
Without another word, Sanari opened the door and hurried inside.
Indavara stared at the scarred planking of the door for a while. He heard her talking to someone then the voices faded. He looked back along the alley and wished more than ever that Simo would return. He would know what to do.
The last thing Indavara needed now was another earful from Corbulo.
The sanctuary? Yes, there.
Shostra emitted a loud grunt as he dumped the little barrel in the atrium. Abascantius shut the front door behind him as Cassius came through from the kitchen.
‘A gift, Corbulo.’
At a signal from his master, Shostra wrapped his remarkably long arms around the barrel and tipped it on its side. Cassius peered down at the bottom and saw a small stopper. Shostra unscrewed it and pulled it out. Abascantius gestured to the barrel. Cassius squatted down and looked inside. Seeing something glinting, he plucked out a gold aureus. The coin was in pristine condition.