Cassius shrugged. ‘Hardly mattered in the end, sir. The enemy took the fort a few months later anyway.’
‘But you raised the spirits, Corbulo. Navio and his cronies made much of your victory. I dare say it bought him another few weeks. Clearly he was grateful.’
‘I won’t deny I was happy to find a way out of Syria, sir.’
Abascantius tilted his mug towards Cassius’s chest. ‘They gave you the silver medal, didn’t they? Why don’t you wear it?’
Cassius replied quickly. ‘That battle was won by better and braver men than me. I do have the medal. But it’s theirs, not mine.’
With a faint smile, Abascantius drank his wine.
‘I have another question for you. Was she worth it?’
‘Who, sir?’ Cassius asked, though he knew.
‘The magistrate’s daughter. Welcomed you with open legs, by all accounts.’
Cassius felt his face reddening.
‘Sorry,’ said Abascantius unconvincingly. ‘The provinces roughen one so.’ He paused, tapping his fingers against the mug. ‘Surely you must have known it would get back to Navio eventually?’
Cassius had known that. He had always known he was taking a massive risk that night in the governor’s garden. Still, he thought of it almost every day, and couldn’t quite bring himself to condemn his choice. He had found Marta alone, well away from the rest of the party-goers. He had been after her since arriving in Cyzicus. She was pretty rather than beautiful, but both elegant and voluptuous — a combination Cassius had never been able to resist. He really should have known better; it was the second time an ill-advised dalliance had set in motion a chain of events that had led him to Syria; and into danger. He stared gloomily down at the wine.
‘Navio protected you,’ Abascantius continued. ‘Once I found out where you were, I wrote to him several times, but never once received a reply. You must have become quite useful to him.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Oh, I’m certain of it. He’s not the only person in Cyzicus I wrote to.’
Abascantius picked up a poker and shifted the burning logs around.
‘Womanising aside, you were well thought of there. Some considered you a touch precious, arrogant even, but you completed your duties well. You refused the offers of several patrons and made no attempt to endear yourself to any particular faction.’
Cassius reddened again. Abascantius’s sources were alarmingly accurate.
‘And when the general called on you for some. . special duties, you did very well. That’s from him, by the way. Only when you disgraced yourself with the girl did he become amenable to the prospect of your departure.’
Abascantius paced in front of the fire, the poker still in his hand.
‘Officially you were in charge of supply procurement and pay but on three separate occasions you solved some rather thorny issues for him: a hole in the accounts that led all the way to the top of the treasury; an arsonist you collared in less than a day; and a murderer you finally identified after personally interviewing every urchin on the city’s streets. Quite the investigator.’
‘I simply did what I was asked to do, sir.’
‘The thing is, Corbulo, I have some able men under my command here — crafty, tough, unpleasant men. But they’re all ex-legionaries. Not what one might describe as university material. Now — two years ago — when I heard I’d been given some cowardly young dolt simply because his father wanted to keep him out of trouble, I was less than enthusiastic. In fact, I was inclined to send you to the nearest available legion as a rank and filer. But it seems that you are not entirely unintelligent, and that you have a knack of getting to the bottom of things. Better still, your face is not known in these parts. I can make good use of you.’
‘I don’t know what you have in mind, sir, but-’
‘We’ll get to that.’
Abascantius hesitated a moment, then jabbed the poker towards Cassius. ‘It sounded like you were about to protest then, Corbulo. I advise against it. You have absented yourself from the Service for over a year and a half. Chief Pulcher knows I’ve found you but it’s up to me how I present your story to him. One explanation might be an administrative foul-up: lost orders, a miscommunication perhaps. You weren’t with us but you were doing your duty nonetheless. Happens all the time. Perfectly feasible. After all — there was a war on.’
Abascantius tilted his head from one side to the other.
‘Another explanation might be plain, simple, good old-fashioned desertion. The wilful neglect of a soldier’s sworn duties. Also happens all the time.’
Abascantius replaced the poker by the fire, returned to the table and stood over Cassius.
‘So which is it to be?’
‘The former sounds preferable, sir.’
‘Infinitely, I should say.’
Abascantius moved closer.
‘Do you know how I have spent the last two years, Corbulo? Riding. The Palmyrans pushed us back a thousand miles, then we pushed them back. The lines could change in days, hours. And all the while, someone had to keep the governors and the generals and the Emperor advised of what was happening. And then do their bidding; even though they disagreed more than they agreed. And every single day there was someone to see, something to do, somewhere to go. Riding, riding, riding. I’m getting old. My stomach gets fatter and my arse just gets bonier — so I don’t like to ride.’
He pointed at Cassius. ‘You owe the Service, Corbulo. And you owe me. You should be grateful that I am offering you a chance to redeem yourself.’
Cassius slid off the bench and stood. Even during his most relaxed, peaceful periods in Cyzicus, he had always known this moment would come. He pressed his tunic down and nodded formally to Abascantius.
‘What is it you require of me, sir?’
‘We’ll get to that. First we shall eat.’
II
Midnight was long past when Cassius finished his meal. It was simple but tasty fare: cold lamb with bread and cheese, then some dried pears and pistachio nuts — one of his few pleasant associations with Syria. Abascantius had wolfed down his food, then disappeared downstairs. The young girl had brought up wood for the fire, but Cassius had felt too morose even to strike up a conversation. Simo came later, carrying their saddlebags. The Gaul announced that the horses were settled for the night, then set about preparing the rooms reserved for them — the two chambers on the other side of the stairs.
Cassius pushed his plate away just as Abascantius returned. The agent was clutching a leather satchel and a long object wrapped in cloth. He thumped both down on to the table as he reclaimed his seat opposite Cassius.
‘To the matter at hand then. You must consider what I will tell you most secret. On occasion you may have to disclose parts of it — then you must use your own judgement. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘In Antioch, on the last day of this month, I am to meet with Marshal Marcellinus and the four members of the city’s council. Like most of our esteemed military men, Marcellinus despises the Service and — for various reasons — me in particular. He’s been given complete autonomy over the eastern provinces and will tolerate my involvement only because the Emperor charged me with one important task.’
Cassius found it hard to imagine Aurelian entrusting any job whatsoever to the dishevelled character in front of him, but he reminded himself that Abascantius had been in Syria for more than a decade. He had served under four emperors and outlasted three governors. Perhaps his appearance worked to his advantage; it was difficult to overestimate him.
‘Aurelian left for Rome as soon as he’d finished treaty negotiations with the Persians. Gifts were exchanged, a few clauses agreed; all remarkably smooth. With the Palmyrans taken care of, the last thing we need is another conflict with our old adversaries to the east. Now, most of Zenobia’s treasures went with the Emperor — some thirty cart-loads I’m told. All that was left in Palmyra was a cache of jewels, trinkets, silver and gold for the provincial coffers in Antioch. It was to be returned inside one large cart, packed in barrels. But one of the barrels contained something more valuable than the rest of the booty put together. It is a flag, but no ordinary flag. Does the term Faridun’s Banner mean anything to you?’