She moved on to Kallikres. ‘Do you want Pedrix to see another day?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you go with them. And if any of your sergeants or legionaries get in the way, you do what you have to. Because if our men and that cart don’t make it back here, your sweet boy will not leave this place alive.’
Kallikres nodded, water still dripping from his hair.
‘Go.’
Skiron barked a few instructions at the Itureans and followed them down the stairs. Kallikres tried to whisper something to Pedrix but Amathea pushed him away. ‘Get out of here.’
When the noise of their boots had faded, Alexon picked up the chain and tied it around a banister. The young Syrian shuffled away from them and started snivelling.
‘We must continue our preparations,’ said Alexon. It wasn’t the first time they’d had to halt an operation and move on. He doubted it would be the last.
Amathea was staring at a fresco on a nearby wall. The pastoral was her favourite in the house – she’d insisted the owner had it repainted before they moved in.
‘Just as I was getting the place how I liked it.’
She darted forward, hair slicing through the air behind her, and slapped Pedrix hard in the face.
XXXII
They met Cosmas by the statue, arriving just as the last drops of rain fell. The sergeant was holding a short rope ladder, one end of which was equipped with metal hooks. He already had a lantern alight but shuttered it as they embarked upon a circuitous route to the rear of the sarcophagus factory. Having avoided the attentions of various nightwatchmen, they gathered by the gate.
‘It’s quieter if I secure the hooks by hand instead of throwing it over,’ whispered Cosmas. ‘Indavara, give me a leg up.’
Cassius took the lantern and watched as Indavara hoisted up the sergeant. The nimble Cosmas swiftly affixed the hooks then used the rope ladder to climb up. Cassius was next, then Indavara. Once they were all perched on the wall, Cosmas reversed the hooks and let the ladder down into the yard. When they were safely on the ground, they stood in silence for a while, listening for any sign of danger.
‘Sounds clear,’ said Cosmas eventually. ‘But watch your step and keep quiet. Those sentries might be patrolling.’
With Indavara behind him, Cassius followed Cosmas towards the factory. Despite a few clouds there was sufficient moonlight for him to make out the building ahead and the surrounding walls. Once at the rear right corner, Cosmas headed left until they reached the broad gate through which Cassius had exited the previous day.
While the sergeant knelt by the lock and took out his picks, Cassius and Indavara dropped down on either side of him, facing outward in case the guards appeared. Cassius wiped sweat out of his eyes: it wasn’t just the warmth and humidity of the night, the armour made every movement difficult and he was no longer used to hauling the sword around. Behind him, the picks scratched and scraped as Cosmas did his work. The Syrian seemed confident that he could open almost any lock; presumably another skill that had made him useful to Diadromes over the years.
After about a minute, the sergeant stopped.
‘Problem?’ whispered Cassius over his shoulder.
‘Workings have been greased recently. I’ll get it, though.’
‘Maybe some light?’
‘No, it’s more about feeling than seeing.’
As Cosmas kept at it, Cassius’s thoughts shifted to what they might find inside. There had been so many false dawns with the investigation that he wouldn’t feel satisfied until he actually had a fake denarius in his hand. He shook his head as he reflected on how they’d got to this point. After all his theories and schemes and mistakes, the breakthrough had come because Indavara wanted to help Christians find abandoned babies, not to mention the pauper lads who’d retrieved the rejected coins from the dump. Surely some playful god somewhere was watching all this with a smile.
‘Ah,’ said Cosmas. ‘Come on, you bugger, just a little …’
Something clicked. ‘There we go.’ The sergeant removed the picks then opened one side of the gate. Once they were several paces into the inky darkness, Cassius opened the shutter of the lantern an inch. Ahead were the angular outlines of the finished sarcophagi laid out in rows. As he was the only one who had been inside, he took the lead.
‘Over to the right.’
Beyond the last of the coffins, they entered the forge. Cassius opened the shutter a little wider and located the barrel Molacus had noted. He held the lantern close to the top and found it contained hefty cuts of wood.
‘Careful,’ he said as Indavara and Cosmas each grabbed the rim of the barrel. ‘We don’t want it scraping on the floor.’
‘Gods,’ said Cosmas. ‘Must weigh as much as a man.’
Indavara said, ‘We need to tip it on its edge then turn it.’
He and Cosmas levered one side of the barrel off the ground. Once they had spun it out of the way, Cassius lowered the lantern towards the floor.
‘Well, well. Thank the gods for observant factory inspectors.’
The wooden hatch was about two feet wide.
Cosmas knelt and put his ear against the timbers. ‘Can’t hear anything. Hopefully the workers are all tucked up in bed before their early shift.’
Indavara drew his blade and stood in front of the hatch. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
Cosmas grabbed the knotted rope that functioned as a handle and lifted the hatch. Cassius stood by Indavara and felt a chill breath of air float up from below. He crouched down and lowered the lantern into the space, then pulled the shutter fully open. A sloping ladder led straight down about fifteen feet to an earthen floor. Also visible was the end of a table.
‘Shall I?’ asked Indavara.
‘Please.’
‘Keep that light there.’
Indavara descended facing forward, one hand on the ladder, sword at the ready. When he was halfway down, he looked up. ‘No one here. Give me the lantern.’
Cassius did so then climbed down. As Cosmas followed, Indavara sheathed his sword and held the lantern up, spreading the misty yellow light. It was a small chamber, perhaps only six yards wide. The table had nothing on it and the high shelves lining all four walls housed only amphoras. Cassius felt his initial excitement fading.
Cosmas took the lantern from Indavara and held it close to the nearest shelf. ‘They’re all filled with some sort of white paint – maybe for upstairs. Perhaps they need to keep it cool.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Cassius. ‘But if so, why hide the hatch? Looks to me like a handy excuse in case anyone found this place.’ He glanced up at the roof, picturing where the oven was in relation to the hatch.
‘Cosmas, some light here.’ He walked to the right side of the chamber and inspected the shelving. Two sections were divided by a narrow gap. Cassius pressed his face close to the wall and saw that the shelf to his left hadn’t been leant up against the brick but was actually attached to it.
‘A fair attempt, but not entirely convincing.’ He pushed his hand behind the shelf and soon located a hook. He took it out of the ring stuck to the back of the shelf then retreated.
‘Hinge must be to the left.’
‘Careful,’ said Cosmas. ‘The amphoras.’
‘I wouldn’t worry.’ Cassius pulled on the shelf and the entire thing swung towards him. Behind it was a narrow doorway.
‘By Jupiter.’ Cosmas took a closer look at the amphoras on the shelf. ‘Stuck to the back with glue.’ He put his hand into one. ‘It’s not even liquid – just painted white to look like the others. Crafty bastards.’
‘Luckily we have our own crafty bastard,’ said Indavara as Cassius pushed the secret door all the way open.
Taking the lantern from Cosmas, he led the way into the second chamber, which was was so large that the light didn’t reach the corners. Cassius was already grinning. Sitting on a wooden pallet in front of him were at least a dozen well-filled sacks. They weren’t even tied at the top so he reached inside and pulled out a handful of denarii.