Amathea brushed her glossy hair away from her eyes. ‘Is this a guessing game? Continue.’
‘Firstly, your friend Florens. Secondly, a gang that might be producing counterfeit coins.’
Alexon slumped back in his chair. He’d tried to control everything, predict everything; but it was always so difficult in their line of work. He looked up at the villa and hoped this wasn’t the beginning of the end. Another end. He wanted to stay.
‘Who is this man?’ he asked.
‘Possibly treasury,’ said Kallikres. ‘I don’t know.’
‘We need a name.’
Amathea shrugged. ‘They were already asking about the coins – probably doing the same in every city. And we already knew that Florens had been spotted.’
‘Sister, it is one thing for them to look for the coins, another for them to look for us.’
‘Where is Florens now?’ asked Kallikres.
‘We’ll get to that,’ replied Amathea. ‘My brother is right – we need a name plus whatever else you can get – who he works for, what he knows.’
Kallikres shook his head. ‘Diadromes’s department is entirely separate from mine. It’s only because my superior happened to be at the magistrate’s residence that I even knew this man was here. I had to call in a favour to find out what Diadromes’s lackey was up to. Any more digging and someone will get suspicious. Everyone’s jumpy enough as it is with all the protests.’
‘We need a name,’ repeated Amathea.
‘I tried. This man doesn’t want anyone to know he’s here.’
‘You need money, just ask.’
‘It’s not about money. I cannot expose myself further. If I am implicated at all-’
Amathea held up a hand. ‘Perhaps I have misunderstood. I thought we were paying you for information; to tell us of any threat from the city.’
Kallikres was looking at Alexon. ‘You said I would probably have nothing to do. You said I was simply to warn you if I heard anything. This is not my fault. It is your mistake that has brought this investigator to Berytus. If they find Florens, we’re finished. Is he still here?’
Amathea smothered a little smile. ‘Skiron.’
The attendant walked towards the drive, gesturing for Kallikres to follow.
‘Go on,’ said Amathea.
The sergeant did so; and soon found himself by one section of the prospective flower beds that was rather deeper than the others. When he looked down into it, his hand went to his mouth.
Amathea giggled.
Kallikres took three steps back. He bowed his head and ran both hands through his curly hair, pressing down on his skull.
‘Apparently it will do wonders for my roses,’ said Amathea. ‘Come back here.’
Kallikres returned, his face clammy and pale.
‘He had become more trouble than he was worth,’ added Amathea. ‘I do hope you will not make the same mistake. This investigator – get his name and whatever else you can.’
‘Quickly,’ said Alexon.
‘I – I don’t know how.’
‘You’ll find a way,’ said Amathea.
Skiron was now using his shovel to fill in the hole. Kallikres was listening to the clumps of earth landing.
‘I don’t think there’s any more to be discussed,’ said Alexon. ‘Contact us as soon as you have something.’
Kallikres turned away.
‘Have a pleasant evening,’ said Amathea quietly.
The sergeant stopped and looked back. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s Thursday,’ she said. ‘Thursday is when you go to see your little friend, isn’t it?’
Kallikres’ jaw dropped.
‘What’s his name again?’
‘Pedrix,’ said Alexon.
After the last meeting, Amathea had tasked Skiron with finding ways of applying pressure to the reluctant Kallikres.
‘In love with a slave boy, eh?’ added Amathea. ‘I never would have guessed it to look at you. I have always wondered, does one of you give and the other receive? Or do you take turns?’
Kallikres had not blinked for a long time.
‘Please don’t tell me a city sergeant takes it from a slave boy? Have you no shame? And I’m told it’s been going on for years.’
‘He must be very precious to you,’ said Alexon. ‘But I hear his master sends him all over the city on various errands at all times of the day and night. Clearly he doesn’t value him as highly as you do. I mean, anything could happen.’
Kallikres screwed his eyes shut, then opened them. ‘I will do as you ask. Leave the boy alone.’
‘Quickly now,’ said Amathea, ‘no sense wasting more time.’
Kallikres hurried away.
Amathea watched Skiron for a moment, then picked up her sewing. ‘I look forward to the time when we no longer need him. Disgusting creature.’
XVII
Cassius guided his horse out of the stable courtyard and on to the street. He rounded a pair of men struggling with a rebellious mule, waited for Indavara and Simo to catch up, then set off at a trot. Cosmas’s directions were tucked into his belt but two readings had been enough for him to memorise them.
The sergeant’s letter had arrived at dawn. Apparently, observing the Gorgos brothers had not been easy. They seemed to have no regular employment, took great care not to be followed and spent much of the day conducting clandestine meetings. Cosmas was convinced they were up to something and suggested a surprise morning arrest for questioning. Considering the previous charges, they would be under considerable pressure to cooperate. Cassius agreed; he could not afford to waste time.
The trio were to meet the sergeant and his men at a hamlet east of the city, then proceed to the Gorgos’ house and hopefully catch them unawares. According to Cosmas, they were not early risers.
Cassius counted off the side streets to his left as he passed them; at the seventh they would pick up the main road leading out of Berytus towards the mountains. After so many hours in the tower, he felt rather exposed, even though he was wearing his mail shirt under his cloak. This could not be worn without a padded undershirt, which he was already sweating into.
Cassius saw potential threats everywhere: movement beyond a shadowy doorway; two ruffians lurking behind a cart; a high window shutter slapping against a wall.
After a while he realised his unease had spread to his horse and it was speeding up. He slowed and turned. Indavara and Simo were quite a way back; they had stopped by the pavement and were looking down at something.
‘That bloody pair.’ Cassius wheeled his horse around and rode back to them.
‘We had to stop,’ said Indavara. ‘Look.’
Sitting outside a crumbling, empty house were two women and six children. They were dark skinned, filthy and clad in little more than rags. Simo stuttered an apology; he was struggling to keep his horse still while opening the money bag attached to his belt. Three of the children were on their feet, dirt-streaked arms stretched up towards the Gaul. The rest were on their way.
‘By the gods,’ spat Cassius. ‘Come away, you two.’
‘Corbulo.’ Indavara held up a hand.
‘Simo, I’m warning you. Leave that bag shut and ride on.’
‘But look at them, sir. They have nothing. I will take it out of my allowance, of course.’
‘Ride on!’ Cassius shouted so loudly that most of the youngsters retreated. One of the mothers came forward and dragged the last child away.
Simo looked at his master, mouth quivering. After several seconds of hesitation, he let go of the money bag and obeyed.
Indavara had taken out some sesterces of his own. Ignoring Cassius, he bent over the pavement and offered them to the mother. ‘Here.’
After a brief hesitation she came forward and took the coins, thanking the bodyguard in a language Cassius didn’t recognise.
‘If you’re quite finished.’
‘Yes,’ said Indavara. ‘Are you?’
Cassius yanked his horse around once more, cursing as he passed Simo.