‘Master!’ he said, awestruck. ‘I didn’t …’ He lapsed into silence and looked anxiously around. I suspect he was wondering if he ought to kneel to me, as he would have done to Marcus, but he took his cue from Maximus and simply bowed his head.
‘Now listen, boys,’ said Junio, taking charge at once. ‘Here’s what we’re going to do. Maximus will go with Father to the garrison.’ He saw that I was likely to protest at that, and held up a warning hand. ‘Take him, Father. You’ll need an attendant slave if you want that guard to treat you like a proper citizen.’
‘But what about the shop?’
He shook his head. ‘I know it means there won’t be anyone here while I am gone, but that won’t be for long. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve delivered Tenuis to the guild. I’m sure your mystery client won’t come back today — and it would make no difference if he did. It doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. In any case he’ll only deal with you.’
I nodded. My son, as usual had reason on his side, and — all things being equal — I wasn’t sorry to have my little slave with me. ‘Then we should leave at once,’ I said.
Maximus was already pulling on his cloak with a delighted grin. A stroll to the garrison with me was clearly a more pleasant prospect than one spent sorting stones and fetching water, stoking up the fire and sweeping the chippings from the workshop floor — which is what he would have been doing otherwise. ‘Ready when you are, Master,’ he said eagerly, darting to the door to open it for me.
‘But the citizen told me I was to stay with him …’ Tenuis’ childlike tenor followed us, and as we walked out into the street I could hear Junio beginning to explain.
‘Don’t worry, Tenuis. I’ll take care of you and take you to the guild …’
But there was no time to linger. ‘Come then, Maximus!’
We did not take Arlina, but hurried off on foot. This time our passage through the town was quick — it is amazing what difference the Roman dress can make. Traders who had blundered into us or blocked my way before, now stood politely to one side to let us pass. Only a group of citizens in dark mourning robes delayed us as they crowded down the street, deep in solemn conversation and taking up the whole width of the pavement and the road: rich people by the numbers of slaves attending them, and oblivious to anybody but themselves. They turned into the forum, on their way to the basilica to listen to the formal reading of a will, I guessed, and after that we met no hindrance. In no time at all we had reached the garrison.
The same centurion was still on duty at the gate. I’d rather hoped he would have been relieved by now. But there he was, as large and ugly as before. As soon as he saw us, he came lumbering across, but this time there was no drawn sword in evidence. Indeed, to start with, he was unctuously polite.
‘I’m very sorry, citizen,’ he murmured, with a courteous inclination of the head. ‘But the commander …’ He tailed off and finished, in a different tone of voice. ‘Great Mars, it’s you again!’
‘Indeed.’ I gave him a smile of huge beneficence. ‘Citizen Longinus Flavius Libertus, as I believe I told you earlier.’
‘You don’t give up, do you?’ he said sourly.
‘I might do, on my own account,’ I said. ‘But I’m here on business for His Excellence, Marcus Septimus Aurelius. I think I mentioned that before as well.’ I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, so I stressed the point a little. ‘Perhaps you haven’t heard of him. But if so, I’m surprised. His Excellence is the senior magistrate in this part of Britannia and a friend and personal advisor to the Emperor Pertinax. In fact he’s gone to Rome to visit at this very time — and something terrible has happened.’
Cerberus (as I had named him to myself) looked at me with interest suddenly.
‘Marcus is my patron,’ I added helpfully. ‘And my business is urgent, as I said before. I’ve something very important to report. I need to send a message through the imperial post to Rome — and to Corinium as well. Today if possible. And I’m anxious that the commander should impound the cargo of a ship for me — if it’s not already sailed. So this time,’ I emphasised the words, ‘I would be obliged if you would let us in.’
This strategy was more successful than I could have dreamed. Centurion Cerberus turned positively pale. ‘A messenger to Rome? This concerns the Emperor?’ He sounded horrified.
‘I didn’t quite say that,’ I backtracked hastily. ‘Though I’m sure that Pertinax would support me if he knew. My message is to Marcus Septimus.’ I could not resist a little boast. ‘Though that’s no slight matter either. He is likely to become the most influential man in all the Roman world. After the Emperor, I mean.’
There was no response to that, though I could see that my words were having an effect. The centurion was biting his upper lip with his yellow lower fangs.
I judged that he was weakening and I plunged in again. ‘So you appreciate that the matter is significant. May I see the commandant?’
My plea was interrupted by the sudden thud of hooves and an Imperial courier came riding down the road from the direction of the praetorium — the commander’s private quarters behind the barracks block. He did not pause as he approached — just galloped at us so we had to leap aside. Cerberus had barely time to move the gate away before the rider was through it, scattering us with dust. I almost felt the movement of his cloak as he rode by, but he did not even glance in our direction as he passed.
‘What …?’ I looked at Cerberus, but the guard made no reply, just stared after the rider, shaking his head from side to side like a demented bull.
‘Now, look here, centurion,’ I said impatiently. ‘If you had only let me in at once, I could have sent my message with that courier. What do you think your commander’s going to say if he learns that you’ve insisted on turning me away? And what will Marcus do when he finds out, do you suppose? When he discovers that you’ve been impeding me — when this is a matter of murder, robbery and fraud. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got an Imperial reprimand …’
But Cerberus was already stirring into speech. ‘Dear Jove, what should I do?’ He looked round wildly as if seeking inspiration from the walls.
I followed the direction of his glance and realised that the crowd of councillors had gone, or at least they were no longer in the inner court. Either they were somewhere else within the fort, or they had all dispersed. In fact, the whole compound was unnaturally devoid of life — none of the usual training cohorts forming up, or groups of conscripts busy on fatigues. Only a solitary foot soldier could be seen, sitting at the doorway to the nearest barracks block — a stoutish auxiliary with large, hairy knees, industriously buffing up his helmet with a mix of lard and sand. That gave me an idea.
‘Summon that fellow to ask the commandant,’ I said. ‘He gives the orders. If you doubt me, he’ll tell you what to do.’
Cerberus looked at me for a moment with the return of something like the old contempt, but then he put two fingers to his lips and blew, letting out a whistle that made the arches ring — rather as I’ve heard a shepherd whistle for his dog. The effect, in fact, was similar: the soldier dropped his polishing and leapt up at once. He hastened over, pulling his helmet on as he approached.
‘You signalled, sir?’
Cerberus looked at him, disdainfully. ‘Take a message to the commandant. Apologise for my disturbing him. Tell him I have a citizen out here who claims his patron has new influence in Rome and wants the garrison to send a message there. Say that I’ve asked him twice to go away, but he is insistent the matter cannot wait. Oh, and he’s brought a slave with him, as well.’
The soldier saluted and made to move away.
‘Tell him it’s Libertus,’ I shouted after him, but I wasn’t sure he heard. He didn’t glance in my direction, just marched through into the inner court.