Cassius gazed at it. What could be hidden in such a short, uncomplicated note? A time and a place perhaps? Dio had only been back a day; if the three recipients were involved in the Memor plot, was he now arranging a meeting?
The solitary first line suggested a key for the code.
Three pounds of millet.
Three. Wishing he had his satchel with the charcoal and paper, Cassius looked at the third letter of each food but could come up with nothing. Then he tried the third letter from the end but again the letters didn’t seem to form words. He looked at the first letter of the third word in each line, then the first letter of the third word from the end of the line. Nothing.
Perhaps the first line was intended to mislead?
Cassius decided to ignore it and focus on each line in turn. Place and time; he felt sure they were in there somewhere. But still he could see no pattern.
Eborius walked into the room. ‘Got the addresses, but he needs to go soon. How are you doing?’
Cassius held up a hand and didn’t take his eyes off the sheet. ‘Please.’
Was there a pre-existing key? If so, it might prove impossible to break the code.
He looked again at the second group of foods. The pattern of the words at the end of each line was unusual; as if it had been rearranged to accommodate the cipher. Cassius tried taking the last letter of the first line, then the penultimate letter of the second line and continuing from there. It wasn’t difficult to rearrange the letters from the first group into a word. Fifth.
Fifth hour. Considering the time, presumably that night. But where?
He tried the same approach with the second block of lines but got nowhere. Then he realised it was continuous — he needed the sixth letter from the end of the sixth line, the seventh from the end of the seventh and so on.
Cassius repeated the six new letters to himself but couldn’t find the word. Then he turned the sheet over and imagined them on the blank page, pictured moving them around to form new words.
In moments he was smiling. Hurrying into the other room, he beckoned Eborius over and whispered to him. ‘Is there a quarry here?’
‘Two miles west up the coast. Not been used in years.’
‘Then we have what we need. It seems our friend Dio is a better killer than he is a spy.’
They returned to the hearth. Cassius retied the twine on the sheets and Eborius placed them carefully back in the bag. The lad had at last stopped crying.
‘I told Lucius we’ll give him the aureus once he’s delivered the notes and told his master all’s well,’ announced Eborius.
‘Absolutely,’ said Cassius, taking the coin from his purse and giving the lad another good look at it before handing it to Eborius.
‘I also told him our men will be watching him every step of the way, and that as long as he does as he’s told, everything will be fine.’
‘Quite right.’
Lucius stood and gave his face a last wipe.
Eborius placed the bag over his shoulder. ‘Off you go then, lad.’
Lucius ran out of the dwelling.
‘Poor little sod,’ said the centurion.
‘That poor little sod might just have led us to the people who hired Dio. What about these addresses?’
‘The first is at the far eastern end of town. There’s only one occupied house around there and it belongs to Galenus Frugi.’
‘Know him?’
‘Yes. We don’t get many new arrivals and he’s only been with us a year or so. As I understand it, Frugi was in a position of some authority in the province of Pontus. During the struggle for power after Claudius’s death, he was a supporter of Quintillus. When Aurelian ended up as emperor-’
‘He was out of favour. Not the first to pay the price for backing the wrong side.’
‘Indeed. I believe he never speaks of it, but everyone knows he was exiled here.’
‘Pontus was one of the provinces Memor dealt with. Now we’re getting somewhere. Number two?’
‘I know the house well. Dilius Nepos. He’s been here rather longer — three or four years. Again, nothing was said publicly, but when he arrived I was still party to such information. He was a magistrate in Cappadocia. Apparently got himself involved with some whore who turned out to be a Goth spy.’
‘Cappadocia. Another of Memor’s provinces. Looks like we can cancel our trip to the library. The pieces are slotting into place.’
‘I’m afraid there’s still a big piece missing. The third address is a farmhouse on the edge of town. Not been inhabited for years. Lucius says his master told him to just leave the note inside the door. He’s never been sent there before. One of the three notes always goes to a different place. Always somewhere quiet.’
‘So our third man takes even more precautions than the others,’ said Cassius. ‘Might be the leader.’
‘That farmhouse is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by open ground. It would be almost impossible for us to get close.’
‘Then we shan’t bother. Neither shall we attempt to monitor the other two. The more we expose ourselves, the more chance there is of alerting one of them and there’s no need now. We know exactly when and where they’re going to be.’
‘But this third man. Could be anyone.’
‘We’ll find out soon enough.’
Cassius looked out of the doorway, at the empty, silent street. ‘Up to this point, I’d thought one man had hired Dio. But three? I suppose if it was to happen anywhere, it would be Darnis or somewhere like it — one of the far shores where those discarded by the Empire wash up. I wonder how it started.’
‘Maybe they just got talking one day,’ said Eborius. ‘Found out they had something in common.’
‘It might just have been that simple. I imagine they thought they were safely out of reach here. Listen, there’ll be four of them at the quarry at least. Do you have five reliable men?’
‘All my men are reliable, but five’s a good number if you intend to spring a trap. What do you have in mind?’
‘I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Come, let’s get back to the others. We can talk on the way.’
XXIII
The Fortuna Redux was quiet. Asdribar had made arrangements with Eborius to take the crew to the tavern where the men of the Second Century drank — apparently the only functioning hostelry in the whole of Darnis. The centurion had sent two of his men along to supervise, but Asdribar had given assurances there wouldn’t be any trouble. Of the sailors, only the eldest and youngest were still aboard — eating dinner together in the galley.
It was the first hour of night and Cassius stood alone at the side-rail, hands cold beneath his cloak, gazing down at the reflected crescent moon. He couldn’t decide if a clear night was helpful or not, considering what lay ahead.
Simo and Indavara were below too, also eating. Cassius couldn’t face a thing, though he planned a fortifying swig of wine before leaving the ship. What he needed was a few moments alone to run over the plan; ensure no crucial detail had been overlooked.
He and Indavara were to meet Eborius and his squad at the arch at the second hour, then set off for the quarry. The site was very close to the sea and a covert approach could be made from a path that ran along the shore. Eborius felt certain that Dio and his associates would arrive via one of the access roads that connected the quarry to the Via Cyrenaica west of Darnis. The centurion had also suggested that all armour be left behind and the men wear dark, hooded cloaks.
They would arrive well before the fifth hour, find a suitable location from which to observe the meeting then — at Cassius’s signal — intervene and arrest the conspirators. He’d been concerned that perhaps there weren’t enough of them but Eborius reminded him that — whoever the third man turned out to be — both Galenus Frugi and Dilius Nepos were the wrong side of fifty.
Noster and another legionary were still stationed opposite Dio’s villa. They would wait for the assassin to leave, then meet the others at an arranged point close to the quarry. Assuming the arrest went to plan, the conspirators would be brought back to the ship and kept captive below decks.