‘Let’s try it.’
Separating the houses from the apartment block was another alley. They had to move slowly; barely any moonlight reached the ground and the flagstones were uneven. Once at the far end, Cassius briefly inspected the rear of the small houses. Each had a yard but all were secured by more locked gates and there was no space between them.
‘Not very suitable,’ he told Indavara.
‘Unless they bribed someone to use their property.’
‘Unlikely. Let’s check the block.’
Cassius had already noted the basic layout. The building was large, probably containing thirty or forty apartments. The two broad passageways ran the width of the structure, providing access to the rear, the ground-floor dwellings and the steps leading up to the higher floors.
Beyond the pitch-black void of the closer passageway, Cassius could just make out the street and the wall beside Neokles’s inn.
‘Decent view,’ whispered Indavara.
‘Let’s take a look. Slow and steady.’
Indavara carefully rounded a tree and crept towards the shadows. Cassius could see the odd light coming from the apartments above and hear someone singing in Greek. He stayed behind Indavara and almost walked into him when he abruptly stopped ten feet short of the passageway. Cassius then realised he could hear something else: snoring.
‘Just some tramp probably. I’ll see if anyone else is there. Wait here.’
Cassius did so, watching until Indavara disappeared into the murk. Then he listened; and soon heard the faint sound of the bodyguard’s footsteps as he returned.
‘A drunk – dead to the world. Let’s check the second one.’
They took even more care this time; the second passageway offered a perfect view of the inn. Indavara waited until they were directly behind it before dropping down. Cassius knelt beside him.
‘See there,’ whispered the bodyguard. ‘Left side.’
The street was far brighter than the passageway and Cassius could clearly see the shape pressed against the wall; he could even make out the head and shoulder. Still as a statue, the man was staring at the inn.
Cassius said, ‘He must have seen us leave but he didn’t follow.’
‘Maybe he just has orders to watch the place. Well? Shall we grab him?’
‘We have to try. Should I go around to the front?’
‘That’ll take too long. I’ll come up behind him. You go along the right side in case he runs that way.’
Cassius generally acceded to Indavara in such matters. ‘Very well.’
‘Daggers. Swords will slow us down too much.’
They stood. Cassius held the sheath down and pulled out the blade. It was the first time he had drawn it since Arabia. He pushed away thoughts of the man he had killed. He was getting better at doing so; he couldn’t let it paralyse him for ever.
Indavara advanced slowly.
Cassius made for the right side of the passageway, treading softly. Not far away, two watchmen were conducting a shouted conversation, providing enough noise to cover the sound of their approach. Cassius kept clear of the wall, fearful of walking into a step or tripping over something. He could see neither Indavara nor the watcher; only the end of the passageway, dividing the inky black from the grey of the street.
Another shout from the watchmen. Then a cackle of laughter.
Indavara charged forward and slammed into the watcher, catapulting him across the pavement. The man slipped on the kerb and fell into the street. Indavara sprang after him, kicking him in the side before he’d stopped rolling. The watcher cried out.
Cassius heard fleeing footsteps. He ran out on to the pavement and turned to his right. The noise was coming from the side of the apartment block; the next alley along. He ran to it.
‘Corbulo, where are you …’
Cassius skidded to a halt. The second man was making no attempt to stay quiet; he was sprinting away, boots thrumming on the ground. Cassius was almost tempted to follow but he couldn’t know who else was out there. He heard Indavara swearing but his eyes were fixed on the street at the end of the alley. There was light there; a lantern above a door. The sound of the boots faded then he saw the dark figure reach the street, cut left and disappear.
Cassius jogged back towards the inn to find that a neighbour had opened his front door and was standing there with a lamp. As the Syrian enquired what was going on, Indavara dragged the watcher across the street by his cloak.
‘Let’s get a look at you,’ said the bodyguard.
‘What’s going on?’ asked the neighbour.
‘Army business,’ said Cassius. ‘Bring your light forward.’
Indavara let go of the man once they reached the kerb, then planted a boot on his gut. The watcher was pleading for mercy in Greek.
Satisfied he couldn’t move, Cassius placed the point of his dagger close to his face. The neighbour opened the lantern shutter wide and held it closer. The watcher was no more than fourteen or fifteen.
‘Gods, Scrofa,’ said the neighbour. ‘Not again. I would have thought you’d learned your lesson by now.’
‘You know him?’ asked Cassius.
‘He lives on the top floor of the apartments. I expect …’ The neighbour peered around the corner of his house. ‘Yes, I thought so. He likes to watch the girls – especially when they’re doing the washing.’
Indavara took his foot off.
Cassius looked down at the youth. ‘That true?’
‘The watchmen caught him twice before,’ continued the neighbour. ‘He said he couldn’t see enough from the third floor. What did Neokles tell you – you’ll go cross eyed!’
Cassius withdrew. ‘Get up. Go.’
Scrofa didn’t need another invitation. He scrambled to his feet and ran back into the shadows of the passageway.
The neighbour muttered something then walked back inside and shut the door.
‘Where’d you disappear to?’ asked Indavara.
‘There was a second man. When we broke cover he ran up the side of the alley and away. I saw him.’
‘Shit. If that fool hadn’t been there we might have grabbed him.’
‘At least we know now. They’re here and they’re watching me. Well, they’re not going to find me again. Let’s go inside and get ready. I want to be on the coast road and away before dawn.’
XI
Unsettled by something, the tethered horses cracked twigs under their hooves and sniffed the air. Above, the branches swayed, moved by the same wind that had drawn a slight swell from the sea. The clearing was on the landward side of the road, a hundred yards away and twenty above, offering an excellent view in both directions.
Indavara and Simo were perched on the same outcrop of grey rock, finishing off their lunch. A few yards away, Patch crunched his way through some carrots. Cassius was leaning against a tree on the other side of the clearing, gazing down at the road. He had moved several times to ensure his position was completely shaded from the blistering rays of the midday sun. Three groups had passed since he’d begun his vigil; none so far concerned him.
Though he’d slept for no more than an hour, he felt surprisingly sharp and alert. Then again, he had to be. If his pursuers could find him in Tripolis, they were clearly capable of tracking him to Berytus, so he had to give them as little to work with as possible. Only Quentin knew where the trio were really headed. Cassius had decided to tell Neokles and the girls that their destination was Laodicea, a city eighty miles to the north.
They had left Tripolis with the streets still dark and encountered only watchmen. A mile beyond the city gates, Indavara had doubled back through an olive grove and checked behind them. He returned having seen nothing.
Cassius ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the carpet of pine needles beneath his feet.
Who? Why?
If they got hold of him, he’d find out soon enough. But for now all he could do was hope he’d lost them and take every precaution possible. What of the days and weeks to come? Would he ever really be able to relax when he knew they were still hunting him?