‘Gods’ blood,’ said Cosmas as he and Indavara stared down at the coins. ‘Must be thousands in each bag.’
Cassius dropped them back into the sack, keeping only one, which he held close to the lantern. The coin had smooth edges, precise lettering and a clear image of the Emperor’s face. ‘Looks like they’re a long way past the experimental stage.’ And when he looked more closely, he saw the two telltale marks Quentin had identified. ‘This is it. This is the gang spreading these fakes all over the East.’
He dropped the coin into his satchel then walked to the left along the edge of the room. He passed several tables fitted with anvils and saw two hammers just like the one Indavara had wielded in the Tripolis mint.
‘That’s why it’s so far down. Even when the factory’s going, they need a few yards of earth to cover the noise.’
He reached another wall, then turned right. Close to the next corner was a small, shadowy tunnel.
‘Wonder where that leads,’ said Indavara.
‘Might be for ventilation,’ said Cassius. ‘Or an escape route.’
‘Could connect to the catacombs,’ said Cosmas. ‘There are thousands of tunnels under the city. Some lead to tombs, some to the water supply and the sewers. Shall I check it?’
‘Yes, but be quick.’
As Cosmas lit a candle and set off, Cassius continued on around the edge of the room, pacing it out. The chamber measured twelve yards by eight; the gang must have worked quickly to construct it in only two weeks while the factory was closed. He also noticed a small vent at each corner, presumably running up to the surface.
Cassius stood over the oven, which was housed to the right of the door. Though it was on the small side, the only unusual feature was the chimney. Halfway up the wall, the clay pipe joined a metal cylinder that disappeared into the roof. Cassius bent over the oven and put his hand above the coals inside – they were still warm.
As he straightened up, Indavara joined him.
‘Moulds here; bronze, iron and copper over there.’
‘There’s just one thing missing,’ replied Cassius.
‘The dies.’
‘Yes. The sergeants can grab all this later but we can’t risk losing the dies. They must be here somewhere.’
The workshop was very tidy and it didn’t take them long to spot the strongbox. Cassius held the lantern while Indavara picked it up and dumped it on to a desk.
‘Gods, that’s heavy.’
It was a larger version of Cassius’s, constructed of a thick hardwood and reinforced with iron bands. He was not surprised to find it locked.
‘I doubt they keep the key here.’
‘Use one of the hammers?’ suggested Indavara.
‘What about the noise?’
‘It weighs a ton – you want to try getting it out of here and back over that wall without making a peep?’
‘Maybe Cosmas can get it open with his picks.’ Cassius turned towards the tunnel; the light from the sergeant’s candle was faint. ‘Hope that doesn’t go too far.’
‘Let’s look for the key. You never know.’
While Indavara hunted through some small pots on a nearby shelf, Cassius checked the three drawers of the desk. He found only writing materials in the first and blank sheets of paper in the second. The third contained a large, leather-bound ledger which he took out. Flicking through the first few pages he found a remarkable level of detail, right down to how many pounds of metal had been used and how many coins had been produced each day. There had been a crew of eight labouring there under the supervision of a senior man who looked after the ledger. That very day they had minted over four thousand coins.
‘By the gods.’ He tapped the page. ‘Got you, you criminal bastards. Got you.’
‘It’s not here,’ said Indavara.
‘No. We’ll have to-’
The noise came from above.
They both looked up, heard boots crossing the factory floor. Cassius managed to put the ledger down silently even though his hands were shaking. They strode over to the doorway, looked up at the hatch.
Light; dim at first, then brighter. Voices; loud at first, then quieter.
They retreated into the workshop without a word. Cassius picked up his satchel and left only a half-inch of the lantern shutter open.
‘The tunnel?’ whispered Indavara.
‘What if Cosmas didn’t find a way out?’
‘Isn’t that why it’s there?’
‘We’d better hope so.’
As they passed the doorway, the first man was already coming down the ladder. Cassius hurried along the edge of the room, then ducked into the tunnel, which was barely five feet high. It was narrow too, cut from dark earth striped with sand and dotted with bits of rubble. Every few yards was a frame of timber covering the sides and the roof.
‘They behind us?’
‘Not yet, just keep going.’
Cassius had counted fifty paces when the lantern light caught something pale to his right. He stopped and heard Indavara mutter an oath. They were now standing at an intersection where a larger tunnel crossed the one they were in at an angle. To the left it was clear, to the right it had been walled off with limestone blocks after only a few feet.
‘Corbulo, they’re in the workshop.’
Cassius pressed on, head bent over, arms scraping the sides. After twenty-nine more paces, he came to what seemed like a dead end. Then he realised the the tunnel turned abruptly to the right.
‘Quick,’ said Indavara.
Cassius followed the turn and found the true end of the tunnel. Fortunately there was also a vertical shaft with a ladder attached to it. At the top of it he could see a square of starry sky.
‘Cosmas?’ Cassius didn’t dare shout.
No reply.
‘Where in Hades is he?’
‘Just get up there,’ hissed Indavara.
‘You go first. It’s difficult with the lantern.’
The bodyguard squeezed past. He put his foot on the bottom rung then looked up and froze. ‘Cosmas, that you?’
No reply.
‘Get ba-’ Cassius didn’t finish his warning.
Indavara threw himself backwards, knocking Cassius into the side of the tunnel.
Something thudded into the ground.
‘What was that?’
‘Arrow,’ said Indavara.
‘The other tunnel. Come on – we have to get back to it before they do.’
Cassius closed the lantern shutter completely and set off back around the corner. The lights in the workshop were now bright and he could see the silhouettes of men moving around.
Twenty-nine paces.
Twenty-five.
One of the men moved in front of the light. He was standing at the other end of the tunnel, looking into it.
Twenty paces. Fifteen.
The man moved. He wasn’t coming forward but he was definitely doing something.
Five paces.
‘Down!’
Cassius ignored Indavara; he was almost there. Just as he was about to dart into the other tunnel something punched his right shoulder. The impact spun him and he landed heavily on his back. The next thing he knew, Indavara had picked him up, dragged him into the blocked tunnel and propped him against the limestone wall.
An increasingly sharp pain was lancing into his shoulder. ‘What happened?’
‘Arrow.’
‘Gods, it must have gone through. I can feel it.’
The lantern had smashed, leaving them in darkness so complete that Cassius couldn’t see Indavara in front of him.
‘Where did it hit?’ asked the bodyguard.
‘Shoulder.’
‘Which?’
‘Left, er, no, right.’
‘Make up your mind.’ Indavara ran his hand over the armour.
‘It went through, didn’t it? Just tell me the truth.’
‘No. Few bent rings, that’s all.’
‘Don’t give me that, I can feel it.’
‘And I can feel the undershirt – not even a hole. You’re fine. But next time I say get down – get down.’
Indavara moved away for a moment then returned. ‘They’re coming. Both directions. The men to the right will get here first. We need a light or we’ve had it. I’ll stick the first man, you take his lantern.’