‘By Mars. You all right, Corbulo?’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’
Marcellinus waved a hand at them. ‘Put your helmets down you two – parade’s over.’
Abascantius and Cassius carefully placed them on a nearby chair.
‘Well, Aulus, what are we going to do about this? We can’t have valued officers fearing for their lives in their own homes. Presumably you’re investigating?’
‘Of course, sir. But as I mentioned, there’s not a great deal of evidence to help us. The attack may be connected to Corbulo’s dealings with the Tanukh so it might be advisable to get him out of the province for the moment. I think it would be best for him to accompany the …’
Marcellinus wasn’t listening. Glycia had leaned across the corner of the table and whispered something to him.
‘That’s a thought,’ said the marshal, before addressing the two agents. ‘We have a rather troubling situation developing. It involves counterfeit currency. An alarming number of high-quality fake denarii have turned up across the eastern provinces, particularly Syria. We’ve always had a problem in the West but the Emperor doesn’t want the same thing here and is keen to nip it in the bud. The treasury don’t seem to be making much progress – a fresh pair of eyes might be useful. Obviously, you’ve got a bit about you, Corbulo. How’s his investigative work, Aulus?’
‘Fair, sir. But to be honest I think he would serve the Emperor best in Egypt. That is where we face the greatest danger, after all.’
Marcellinus flexed his toes again. ‘Mmm. I suppose counterfeiting’s not really within the Service’s remit.’
Taking on fraudsters sounded a lot safer than hunting down rebels in far-away Egypt. Judging by what Marcellinus had said, he evidently wasn’t aware of Cassius’s involvement in the recovery of the Persian Banner. Cassius decided to take a calculated risk.
‘I do enjoy investigative work, sir,’ he volunteered. ‘One operation last year was particularly satisfying.’
He could already feel Abascantius bristling.
‘Go on,’ said Marcellinus.
‘I’m not sure I should-’
‘You shouldn’t,’ said Abascantius sharply.
Marcellinus looked annoyed. ‘Tell me.’
Abascantius walked over to the marshal, bent close to him and whispered. Marcellinus listened keenly and seemed impressed.
On his way back, Abascantius fixed Cassius with an irate glare.
‘Well,’ said the marshal. ‘That was another outstanding piece of work. I had no idea, Corbulo. Aulus, you really must try not to hog all the glory for yourself in future. That settles it.’
Marcellinus turned to Glycia. ‘Where would we send Corbulo to get started?’
Cassius didn’t dare look at his superior but he was already wondering whether the negative consequences of his gambit might outweigh the positive.
‘The imperial mint at Tripolis,’ said Glycia. ‘That’s where the treasury have started the investigation. Not far, is it?’
‘About a week away,’ replied Abascantius, making a valiant attempt to hide his anger.
‘Good,’ said Marcellinus. ‘Glycia can give you the details later, Corbulo. You should leave right away so I expect you’ll want to make some preparations tonight.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’
‘Right, then, we must discuss Egypt – Aulus, come and have a seat. I’ve an hour or two before I meet with Governor Calvinus.’
As Abascantius walked over, Cassius took a step towards the marshal; he knew he might never again get such an opportunity in his entire life. ‘Sir.’
‘What is it?’
‘I have found that during such investigations it is most helpful to be armed with letters of reference. Such missives from Master Abascantius, Chief Pulcher and Prefect Venator have served me very well in the past and I wondered …’
‘Of course. I’ll jot something down for you later and send it over.’
Still sitting with his feet in the bowl of water, Marcellinus offered his forearm. Cassius didn’t dare look at Abascantius as he shook it. How he wished his father and his family and his friends back home could be here to see such a moment.
‘Watch your back, Corbulo,’ said Marcellinus. ‘An enemy that would dare strike at you here might not give up easily.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Abascantius sat down.
‘And don’t worry about Aulus,’ said Marcellinus with a grin. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t punish you too harshly for your cheek. On your way.’
‘What’s up with Simo?’ asked Indavara as Cassius walked into his bedroom.
‘I just told him we’re leaving. A disruption to his studies, I suppose. Gods, it’s hot in here – humid too.’
Cassius elected not to mention the smell. He opened the shutters wider and leaned against the wall opposite Indavara’s bed. The bodyguard was sitting up with a sheet covering his lower half. On the nearby table was an abacus – his preferred method of amusing himself when every last one of his weapons had been cleaned.
‘So where are we off to, then?’
Cassius smiled. ‘Tripolis. It’s on the Syrian coast. A bit of breeze at last.’
‘What’s the job?’
‘Counterfeiting.’
Indavara scratched his armpit. ‘What’s that?’
‘Fake coins. Someone’s making them and the Emperor wants them stopped.’
‘Sounds dull.’
‘I certainly hope so. If Abascantius had his way we’d be off to bloody Egypt but Marshal Marcellinus himself gave me the job.’
‘Marcellinus. Protector of the East. He’s a general or something, isn’t he?’
‘He’s one up from a general. The only man who can give him orders is the Emperor. He knew me by name, because of getting the black stone back. You too.’
Indavara sat up. ‘Really? Me?’
‘Damned impressive character. Certainly told Abascantius what’s what.’
Indavara seemed amused by the concept.
‘And I managed to get a letter out of him,’ added Cassius. ‘There won’t be many people – soldier or citizen – who’ll dare say no to me now.’
He wandered over to the window and looked outside at the empty courtyard. Four guards had been assigned to the villa and he could hear the pair at the rear talking.
He turned round. ‘Now – can you travel?’
Indavara let out a long breath and looked down at his groin.
Cassius said, ‘How … er … how is … it?’
‘It was red, now it’s purple.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Hurts when I walk. Don’t fancy sitting on a horse much.’
‘What about a cart? We’ll probably need one for our gear anyway.’
‘That would be better. When are we leaving?’
‘The morning. Before Abascantius or Governor Calvinus have a chance of changing the marshal’s mind. Actually I’d better get going – lot to organise.’
‘Corbulo – last night. You did all right. Better than usual anyway.’
Cassius came closer to the bed. ‘Indavara – thank you again. I shudder to think what would have happened without you there.’
‘We’re lucky Simo was there to give a warning. Someone was looking out for us.’
Cassius noted the two figurines on the little table. One had been thrown to Indavara in the arena; a tiny, poorly made thing of low-quality stone. The other Cassius had bought for him; it was three times the size, copper covered with high-quality silver plate. He knew which one the bodyguard preferred.
‘Your Fortuna?’
‘Probably.’
‘Personally, I have rather more confidence in you than the gods. How many times is that now?’
‘I’ve lost count.’ Indavara shrugged. ‘Just doing my job, right?’
‘Exceptionally well, I would say.’
Seeing Cassius was about to leave, Indavara held up a hand. ‘Wait a moment.’ He gestured at his groin. ‘Simo thinks it’s just bruising and it doesn’t hurt too much when I piss but … well, I couldn’t really ask him – you know what he’s like about that sort of thing – but, well, how do I know if it’s, er … you know …’
‘Functional?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t advise getting a girl in here. I doubt you’re ready for that yet. You’ll have to try yourself.’