As they crossed the causeway, a light rain began to fall, pattering against the stone and the drier patches of the marsh. Asdribar pulled up his hood but Cassius kept his down — he didn’t want to restrict either his hearing or his vision. There was no sign of Eborius at the arch. They looked along the road towards the town; there were only a few smudges of light and not a sound to be heard.
‘It really is dead,’ observed Asdribar. Just as he was about to sit down on the wall, they heard the rustling of feet moving through grass. A big shape appeared from behind the standing side of the arch.
‘It’s me,’ came the rich, deep voice. Eborius scowled as Asdribar held the lantern up to his face. ‘Who are you?’
‘This is Asdribar,’ replied Cassius, ‘captain of the ship. He wanted to speak with you too.’
The scowl remained.
‘How did you get on?’ asked Cassius.
‘A few people saw the Isis come in. A few people saw the crew walk into town and buy some supplies. And a few people saw them cast off again two hours later. No one saw or heard anything about a passenger.’
Cassius blew out his cheeks. ‘Wonderful.’
‘Of course that doesn’t mean nobody else came ashore. It wouldn’t be difficult to slip into town unnoticed if you were trying to avoid attention.’
The rain was getting harder. Eborius and Cassius pulled up their hoods.
‘Tell me,’ said Cassius. ‘I’ve seen the state of the forum, but what about the rest of the administrative buildings? Is there anywhere with records on the population?’
‘I think documents like that were moved to the library, though I doubt anyone’s looked at them in a while.’
‘Could you get me access to them?’
‘Probably. I-’
‘Gentlemen,’ interjected Asdribar as water dripped from his hood past his face. ‘There is a dry and warm ship just a few moments’ walk away. Can I suggest we adjourn there?’
Cassius turned to Eborius. ‘Well?’
The big centurion shrugged.
‘Tell me, sir,’ said Asdribar warmly. ‘Have you ever sampled the delights of Rhodian cinnamon wine?’
While Asdribar escorted Eborius below, Cassius called in on Annia. She would inevitably find out about the centurion’s visit, so he thought he might as well invite her along. Clara opened the deckhouse door but Cassius only had time to smile before Annia appeared. She snatched a shawl from Clara and followed Cassius to the hatch.
‘So we’re still not even sure if Dio got off here?’ she asked.
‘No. But all the crew of the Isis did was buy some provisions — only three days after leaving Crete, which is suspicious in itself. I’ve nothing definitive yet but I’m sure this man can help us.’
With the raucous goings-on in the galley, Asdribar had placed four stools in a circle just beyond the steps. Just as Cassius and Annia arrived, Opilio appeared carrying a small brazier. Behind him came Tarkel and Desenna, who placed some bricks on the floor for Opilio to mount the brazier on. Inside was a pile of glowing coals giving off plenty of heat. As the galley crew left, Asdribar issued more orders. ‘Opilio — those Syrian glasses, and bring us something to eat.’
Centurion Eborius seemed rather surprised to be in the presence of a young lady and nodded shyly when Cassius introduced Annia. Asdribar encouraged them all to sit down, then poured three good measures from a jug of the cinnamon wine when Opilio returned with the glasses. Annia refused the offer of a drink. Opilio had also brought two bowls, one full of dates, one full of almonds.
‘There, Centurion,’ said Asdribar. ‘A bit of Fortuna hospitality for you.’
Eborius raised his glass. ‘That’s her name?’
‘Fortuna Redux.’
‘I hope that proves prophetic.’
‘These records at the library you mentioned,’ said Cassius. ‘Any idea what’s there?’
‘Perhaps tax documentation. Although that might be kept at the mansion now.’
‘The mansion?’
‘Big villa overlooking the plain just south of Darnis. Used to belong to the Gratus family but when they left Carnifex took it over.’
‘There’s no barracks in the town?’
‘There is. My century — the Second — uses it.’
‘Is Carnifex’s century as undermanned as yours?’
Eborius gave a grim smile. ‘Oh no. The First now has about a hundred and forty men.’
‘But you have-’
‘Thirty-seven.’ Eborius shook his head. ‘Gods, it all sounds so bizarre now I hear myself speak of it. I suppose I’ve become used to the way things are here.’ He looked around at the others. ‘Perhaps I should explain. It will all seem even stranger if I don’t.’
‘Please,’ said Cassius.
Eborius took a long swig of wine before beginning. ‘You know about the earthquake, of course.’
‘Ten years back, wasn’t it?’ said Asdribar.
‘That was to the west. Hit the Five Cities badly. We felt it here, but no, the one that struck close to Darnis was just five years ago. Knocked all the big buildings down, ruined the aqueduct, killed several hundred. Things had been good here before. There have always been two centuries: the First and the Second. Theoretically, they’re attached to the Third Augustan Legion, but they’ve been stationed here for decades — to protect the coast road and the estates. The centurion of the First was always considered the senior man. His name was Donicus — he’d been here almost twenty years. He was overseeing a detachment working on the sewers when the earthquake hit. He was killed. Crushed. A few weeks later his replacement arrived.’
‘Carnifex?’ said Cassius.
‘Carnifex.’
Resting his elbows on his knees, Eborius hunched over, staring at the glowing coals of the brazier. ‘The main problem was the aqueduct — it runs fifty miles from the interior into the west side of Darnis. There are no rivers here, so the water that supplied the whole area came from a system of barrages and cisterns. The Maseene are nomads — they move with the season, with their animals. When Rome first settled this territory centuries ago, they lost much of their best grazing land. Initially there were conflicts but eventually a compromise emerged; the building of the aqueduct allowed the creation of a series of wells and reservoirs to help them water their animals.’
‘But without the aqueduct …’ said Cassius.
‘Even then the situation could have been salvaged — if Carnifex had put all our manpower into the works and the governor had secured the engineers and money we needed. His name was Mordanticus — ineffective and corrupt but Donicus had always kept his worst excesses in check. Mordanticus and Carnifex together were a disastrous combination. With the water supply gone, it was only a matter of time.’
Eborius shook his head and took a breath. ‘I tried to arbitrate between the Maseene elders and Mordanticus, but he wasn’t interested in helping them. Carnifex told him he didn’t have to; said he could take care of them. Then, about two years ago, the raids started. There’d always been the odd problem — stolen livestock and so on — but all pretty small in scale. Then one estate lost a whole herd of goats and the landowner retaliated by fouling the nearest tribe’s well. From there things escalated. Again, if Carnifex and Mordanticus had been minded to negotiate, some sort of agreement might have been possible, but they always just backed the landowners. The raids got worse. Some of the richer families — those with the biggest estates — had left after the earthquake. And once it became obvious they weren’t safe, the rest began to leave too. Then Mordanticus and Carnifex realised they could actually benefit from the situation. There was no hope for the southern estates, all that territory is in Maseene hands now, but those that border Darnis — those could be protected. So Mordanticus and Carnifex began buying them up. Now each estate is nominally run by retired men from the First Century. All done in the name of Rome of course. It’s incredibly inefficient — I doubt the whole territory produces a tenth of what it once did — but Carnifex controls thousands of acres and creams off the profits for himself.’