The boy came tearing on to the street from an alley to the right and ran straight towards the villa. He looked about nine or ten. Over his shoulder was a leather pouch just like the young letter-carriers wore in towns and cities across the Empire. A messenger.
Cassius kept walking. With only a brief glance at him, the boy stopped at the gate and rang the bell. Cassius was well past when it opened.
‘Where have you been, you little shit?’ asked a voice in Latin. ‘I said the third hour.’
The Carthaginian sailors had been right. No obvious accent, nothing distinctive.
‘Sorry, sir. The goats got loose, I had to-’
‘Just come inside!’
A pause. A silence. Cassius imagined Dio staring at his back and again tried to affect the casual stride of a wandering visitor.
‘Do I have far to go, sir? Grandfather said I must be back by midday.’
‘You will be.’
The gate clanged shut.
Cassius intended to keep walking, circle back and tell the others what he’d heard. Then he realised: Indavara.
He darted left into the next alley and sprinted to the end, then looked round the corner towards the villa. ‘Thank the gods.’
Indavara was standing there, back pressed against the wall, listening.
Staying well hidden, Cassius waved at him.
After a few moments Indavara spotted him and ran over, crouching low.
‘By Jupiter, what a relief,’ said Cassius. ‘I thought you might have heard the bell and gone straight in.’
‘I was about to jump but then I heard him. Didn’t seem very likely he’d call you a “little shit”.’
‘A letter-carrier. And it sounds like Dio’s got something for him. Might be going to his employer.’
What are you thinking?’
‘We wait. Then grab the boy.’
The young messenger left a quarter of an hour later. It turned out Eborius knew him and the plan was to let him get well away from the villa before intercepting him. Indavara and Noster would remain behind, with orders to apprehend the assassin if he tried to leave.
Cassius and Eborius were already poised at the far end of the mausoleum. They heard the gate shut once more and Noster relayed a signal from Indavara, pointing back the way the boy had come — towards the Via Roma.
Eborius sprang away along the alley, Cassius close on his heels. The two officers kept their eyes trained to the south as they ran but it wasn’t until they crossed the fourth street that they saw the lad — disappearing into an alley thirty yards away.
Now nearing the Via Roma, they put in a burst and turned left down the next street. The lad emerged from the alley and stopped dead when he saw Eborius charging towards him. Barely out of breath, he glanced anxiously up at the two tall men.
‘Hello,’ said Eborius with a creditable attempt at warmth.
‘Hello, sir.’
‘You’re Baro’s grandson, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What’s the name?’
‘Lucius, sir.’
The lad was skinny and dirty, wearing an unbelted tunic several sizes too big for him. He was evidently not of local stock, with skin as light as Cassius’s, straw-coloured hair and even a few freckles.
‘Well, Lucius, I’m on army business. I need to have a look in that bag of yours.’
Cassius had circled round to stand behind the boy.
‘Master said I shouldn’t stop, sir. I don’t think he’d like it.’
‘What’s his name?’ asked Cassius.
‘Don’t know, sir,’ the lad answered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. ‘Said I was to just call him “Master”.’
‘You’re a good boy, Lucius,’ said Eborius. ‘You know what I am, don’t you?’
‘A soldier.’
‘Just a soldier? Haven’t seen my crest or-’
‘A centurion.’
‘That’s right. You do know that the army is very important? If I tell you to do something, you have to do it. I promise we’ll give the bag back. Master won’t even know we’ve seen it.’
‘Grandfather said you’re not really a proper centurion, sir. He said Carnifex is the only one that counts.’
Eborius forced another smile. ‘Quite right. Centurion Carnifex is the one that counts. You wouldn’t want me to tell him that you went against the army, would you?’
Lucius took the bag off his shoulder and handed it over. As soon as Eborius had it in his hands, the lad tried to run. Cassius had seen it coming and stuck out a leg. As Lucius tripped and fell to the ground, Cassius grabbed his belt and held on to him. He kicked out, catching Cassius on the leg.
‘Ow! Little bastard.’
Eborius lifted Lucius up, planted him on his feet and held him by the shoulders. Tears were now streaming down the lad’s face.
‘Listen, Lucius. You’ve not done anything wrong. A few moments and you can be on your way.’
‘Just wanted to get a few coins for my grandfather, sir.’
‘I know.’
Cassius did his best to ignore his aching leg and pulled a golden aureus from his money bag. ‘All yours. If you do what we tell you.’
Lucius gazed longingly at the coin.
‘Come on.’
With a hand still on Lucius’s shoulder, Eborius directed him towards the nearest intact villa. The big centurion ducked under the low doorway and guided the boy over to an empty hearth, then sat him down on a stool. Cassius dragged a rickety bench over for himself and Eborius, which had the additional benefit of corralling the boy into a corner.
‘Now let’s see what’s in here.’
Eborius reached into the bag and pulled out three rolled-up sheets, each tied with a piece of twine. It was customary for names and addresses to be written in a corner or on a separate label but there was nothing.
‘Who are these for?’ Eborius asked as he passed the sheets to Cassius.
Lucius wiped his wet cheeks with his sleeve. ‘Don’t know, sir.’
‘Then how can you deliver them?’
‘I know where they’re to go.’
‘Which house?’
‘Three different houses. And I’m not to ask who lives there. Master tells me the directions five times so I don’t forget. He says he uses me because I always remember it right.’
‘How long have you worked for him?’ Cassius asked.
‘Not long. Last time was a few weeks ago. I didn’t know he was back until he came to get me this morning.’
Turning to Cassius, Eborius switched to Greek. ‘Lad lives with his grandfather — who can barely hear or see.’
‘Master chose his messenger well,’ observed Cassius.
‘Have you delivered anything else today?’ he asked Lucius, switching back to Latin.
The lad shook his head.
‘But you’ve delivered to those houses before?’
‘Two of them.’
‘How many times?’
‘Three or four.’
Cassius undid the twine and examined the first sheet. The paper was new and unmarked. He checked his fingers were clean before handling it.
Eborius leaned over and looked at it. ‘Looks like a shopping list.’
‘Precisely as intended, I imagine.’
Cassius opened the other two. Exact copies.
‘Can I go soon?’ asked Lucius. ‘I’m supposed to go back and tell Master I delivered them safely.’
Cassius and Eborius exchanged grimaces.
‘Can you get the addresses from him?’ Cassius asked the centurion. ‘I need to look at this.’
‘Of course.’
As Eborius asked Lucius about the first house, Cassius took one of the letters and walked past the hearth into the villa’s only other room. He stood close to the rear door; out of sight, but with enough light to examine the sheet.
The list detailed twelve separate foodstuffs and was split into three sections: a single line at the top, then a space, then five lines, then another space, then six lines.