This caught Indavara by surprise. ‘I meant no insult.’
‘I know. And I can see how such a thing would shock you; it is only two years that you have been … out in the world.’
Indavara came closer. ‘You always tell Simo that it is not Satan or the demons who make men harm others. You say it is men themselves. Why?’
‘I don’t know. Gods, it’s a bit early in the day for all this. Listen, look around you. Evil and suffering are not everywhere.’ Cassius pointed across at Sellic’s assistants; all three were examining a single waxed tablet. ‘Look at this lot – not the most popular job but they’ve taken it to get on – decent lads trying to make their way.’
Cassius put a hand on Indavara’s arm and took him out from under the arch towards the road.
‘Look here.’ He pointed at one of the vendors, who was showing his young son how to use a pair of scales.
‘Or there.’ Farther along the road, a girl was helping an elderly woman fill a bag with vegetables.
‘People going about their business, looking out for themselves and others where they can. The world is not only death and destruction, though I concede we’ve observed our fair share.’
Indavara looked out across the fields, where the shadows of a few small clouds drifted across the swaying wheat. Cassius thought it rather beautiful.
‘But behind us,’ said Indavara. ‘In every corner of this city …’
Cassius sighed. ‘Even the gods cannot stop it. And it seems to me that they don’t even try.’
Cosmas arrived around midday to report that the inspections were finished. He hadn’t had time to hear from all the sergeants but they were convening at the ninth hour and he would pass on anything of use. So far, nothing notable had been discovered.
‘What about the other gates?’ asked Cassius.
‘The legionaries are supposed to- ah, that might be them.’
Two soldiers had appeared from an alley and strode swiftly up to the gate. ‘Officer Crispian, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘We were told to report to you.’
‘Yes. Anything from the northern and southern gates?’
‘No, sir. Just a few bags of salt hidden in some hay.’
‘Ah shit.’ Cassius kicked the ground. Sellic peered out from the shadows, then disappeared back inside. An abacus rattled as his assistants continued totting up the morning’s takings.
‘Something might turn up later,’ said Indavara.
‘Optimism? From you?’
Cosmas walked over to a bucket one of the slaves had just brought out. He cupped water in his hands and threw it on his face, then wiped some on his neck to cool down.
The other slave trotted over to Cassius, mop in hand. ‘Sir?’
‘What?’
‘You’re looking for something in a cart, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Why?’
The slave was an old fellow, whip thin with straggly, greying hair. He pointed towards the city. ‘Two carts just turned on to the street from the right. When they saw you soldiers they went back.’
Cassius looked. There were no vehicles visible any more.
‘Indavara! You two, come with me. Cosmas, watch the gate.’
Cassius set off up the middle of the road, as fast as he could with the heavy sword slapping around. Ahead, half a dozen water-carriers with amphoras balanced on their heads were crossing the street but they divided to let Cassius and the other three through.
Fifty or so paces took him to the corner. He stopped and peered around the stall of a spice-seller who insisted on quoting prices even when one of the legionaries told him to shut up. Cassius glimpsed the tail end of a cart turning left about thirty yards along the street.
‘Come on.’
A group of craftsmen chipping away at stone blocks outside a townhouse stopped their work as they raced by. Cassius slowed a little to ensure the others were with him as he rounded the next corner. The street was narrow and the two cart drivers were drawing complaints from pedestrians having to squash themselves against walls and storefronts.
Cassius waved the legionaries past him. ‘Get in front of them.’
He and Indavara waited until the soldiers had darted along one side and blocked the path of the first cart.
‘Halt!’ yelled Cassius.
The two legionaries put up their hands and the drivers reined in. Cassius peered over the top of the second cart; the cargo was large bundles of dried reeds. He went to check the first vehicle – also reeds. The driver of the second cart was trying to calm his horse.
‘You – why did you turn round?’
The driver was a wiry little man, arms decorated with some badly rendered tattoos.
‘Turn round, sir?’ he said, avoiding Cassius’s gaze.
‘You approached the gate, then went back. Why?’
The driver of the first cart – a younger man – spoke up. ‘We got a bit lost, sir, but we know where we’re going now. Let us on our way, would you? We’re already late.’
‘Not until I’ve checked your cargo properly. Get down and steady your horses.’
‘Very well.’ The younger man climbed down. The older driver muttered an oath before obeying. Cassius indicated that Indavara should watch him, then hurried around to the rear of the cart and clambered on. The reed bundles were tightly packed but only two deep. He had only just picked one up when one of the legionaries gave a shout.
‘You! I know you.’
Cassius let go of the bundle and watched as the little driver desperately sought an escape route. Unfortunately for him, he was trapped between the cart and Indavara. As he tried to dive under the vehicle, Indavara grabbed his tunic and hauled him up.
The vocal legionary said something to his compatriot, then ran alongside the cart. Indavara was so taken by surprise that, before he could react, the legionary had hurled the driver into the gutter. The soldier’s sword rasped as he wrenched it from the scabbard.
‘What are you doing?’ demanded Indavara.
The startled horse was jolting the cart but Cassius made a safe landing and arrived in time to see the legionary raise his weapon.
‘Just the flat of the blade,’ he hissed. ‘Which is half what he deserves.’
‘Legionary, sheathe your weapon.’
When the soldier ignored him, Cassius turned immediately to Indavara.
The bodyguard chopped his hand into the legionary’s shoulder; a light blow but aimed at a sensitive point. The soldier’s blade clattered into a puddle beside the wide-eyed driver.
The soldier spun around, fists already clenched. He was a big man, with broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms.
‘No,’ warned Cassius. ‘Don’t.’
Too late. The legionary shoved Indavara in the chest, propelling him back into the cart. As he bounced back towards him, the legionary swung an arcing punch into the bodyguard’s head just above the ear. The thump was so loud that Cassius thought he might go down.
Indavara staggered, blinking, mouth open.
The soldier was still admiring his handiwork when the bodyguard rushed him.
He hit his midriff, knocking him back two yards and into a wall.
The driver caught a boot on his arm and yelped as he crawled away.
Before the soldier could strike back, Indavara had buried a heavy punch in his gut. The legionary would have doubled over were it not for the fact that Indavara’s hands were now around his throat, pushing his head back against the bricks.
As his face turned from brown to red, the soldier waved at his friend. ‘Wolfie, help!’
‘Wolfie’ didn’t look all that keen on helping. Though also tall, he was as slender as Cassius. ‘You shouldn’t have hit him, Scato.’
Indavara was snarling, spit running down his chin as he tightened his grip.
‘All right, that’s enough,’ said Cassius.
Scato bucked, trying to prise himself off the wall, which only made Indavara squeeze harder. The legionary’s face was now almost purple. He tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled cry.