Abascantius turned from the scene below, mimicked wiping sweat from his brow, and grinned. He moved away from the thick column he and Cassius had been standing behind and tiptoed towards the doorway at the corner of the first-floor gallery. He was — by his own standards — dressed smartly, in a largely stain-free tunic and a light cape.
He had insisted they both take off their sandals, and not a word was said as they made their way down the stairs, then sat down and put them on again, watched impassively by two more Praetorian guardsmen. A long, empty corridor took them to the door at the rear of the forum, where another guardsman let them out, locking the door behind them. Abascantius tapped his fingers against his belt as he looked up at the cloudless blue sky.
‘Thank the gods.’
He glanced at Cassius as they started away along the street.
‘You did well, Corbulo. It’s a shame you won’t ever be able to tell anyone about this little venture, but by Jupiter you did well.’
‘Thank you, sir. I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure but this has quite easily been the second worst month of my life.’
Abascantius chuckled as he led Cassius around a corner. It was mid-afternoon and the warm city streets were quiet. He shook his head. ‘A robbery. A simple robbery.’
‘Not that simple, sir.’
‘You know what I mean. I was so convinced we were investigating some dire web of intrigue, I couldn’t see the wood for the trees. Perhaps I’ve been in this job too long. How’s the head?’
Cassius touched the hard bump and scabbed skin on the left side of his skull. ‘Your surgeon friend seemed to think it will heal well, sir. Thank you for sending him along. He gave Simo an entire page of instructions.’
‘You’ve a good man there, Corbulo — Christian or not.’
‘I know it, sir.’
‘You must at least be a little refreshed after a few days of rest. What did you do with yourself?’
‘Slept mostly. Indavara too. He’s been even quieter than normal. I think being dunked in the Orontes shook him up more than taking on those Palestinian brutes.’
‘He really is quite exceptional. Alikar and his men were notorious, known in every city from here to their homeland. To think he took them on alone and came out on top. And jumping out of that tower window — by the gods — he must have balls the size of ostrich eggs. I do hope we can keep him on.’
‘What about Scaurus, sir?’ Cassius asked as they ducked under a low awning. ‘I heard his execution has been announced.’
‘He’ll be lunch for the beasts at the next games. Quarto and Ulpian are personally taking charge of the arrangements — wild dogs, I gather. Would you like a ticket? I’m planning to make quite a day of it.’
Cassius’s stomach churned. He wouldn’t spare a moment to sympathise with Scaurus, but he’d had more than his fill of violence and death over the last few weeks.
‘No thank you, sir. I must say I was surprised Marshal Marcellinus decided not to keep the whole affair quiet.’
‘That would have been difficult. Better to tell nine-tenths of the truth. Only the issue of the standard is to be kept secret. Our Persian friends have no idea there was even a problem.’
‘And how does the marshal view the Service’s part in all this, sir?’
Abascantius looked at Cassius as they rounded a sprawling fruit stall, then hopped back on to the pavement.
‘Diplomatically put, Corbulo. But let’s be honest: I was roundly outwitted by Scaurus. If not for your efforts, I’ve little doubt I’d be on my way to that mine in Thessalonica I threatened you with. But he made fools of Ulpian and Quarto too, and I hear Gordio got a fairly substantial slap on the wrist from Marcellinus for putting me behind bars. As long as Chief Pulcher has the ear of the Emperor, I should think my position is secure. I shall simply have to keep my head down for a bit.’
‘And Octobrianus?’
Abascantius spat on the ground. ‘I had to write a letter of apology, would you believe? But he’ll put a foot wrong sooner or later. And I’ll make sure I’m there when he does.’
‘Er, sir, where exactly are we going?’
Abascantius smiled as he led Cassius down a narrow side street. ‘This way.’
Standing outside a dingy arched doorway was a bulky individual picking his nose. Abascantius threw him a coin and hurried past him through a beaded curtain. The inn was a grimy little place, with a bar in one corner and half a dozen patrons gathered round a large table, playing dice. One man gave a roar; the others groaned.
Seeing Abascantius arrive, a small man hurried out from behind the bar and silently led them past the gamblers to another door. He produced a key from a pocket on his apron and opened it for them.
‘Still got that ten-year-old Nomentamum?’ Abascantius enquired as he led Cassius through the doorway.
‘I have.’
‘Bring some. And six of your best glasses.’
The innkeeper nodded and shut the door behind them. The narrow corridor was lined with empty bottles of every possible size, shape and description. Beyond a stack of stools was another door on the right. Abascantius rapped on it. Shostra opened up.
They entered a small, murky room lit only by a skylight, around which were perched several birds, chirruping away merrily. Sitting at a table facing the door was Lady Antonia. She was as well turned-out as ever: skin flawless, hair piled high; and wearing a hooded green cape over her stola. She cast an impatient stare at Abascantius, but her expression softened into a smile when she saw Cassius.
Simo was sitting opposite her. He stood and hurried over. ‘What’s this all about, sir? Shostra fetched us from the villa.’
Cassius shrugged and looked past the Gaul at Indavara. He was standing in the corner, one foot up against the wall, arms crossed. Under his sleeveless tunic, Cassius could see the bandages Simo had wrapped around the welts on his side.
‘Have a seat, Corbulo,’ Abascantius said, gesturing to the table. ‘You too, Indavara.’
They sat down: Indavara opposite Abascantius, who remained standing; Cassius next to Simo. Shostra shut the door, retrieved a wicker basket from below the table and placed it in front of his master. There was a cloth across the top.
‘Are we going for a picnic?’ asked Lady Antonia.
Cassius laughed.
Abascantius took the jibe in good heart and removed the cloth. ‘All will be revealed, my dear.’
‘Quickly, I hope. I’ve been waiting in this hole for half an hour.’
‘If you’re happy to make our association public, we can of course choose another locale.’
Antonia nodded begrudgingly.
Abascantius leaned forward and planted his hands on the table. ‘It’s unfortunate that I cannot share with all of you the precise details of the events we’ve been involved in, but everyone here has been of great help to me in the last few weeks. And I was in very great need of help.’
‘My, my,’ interjected Antonia. ‘Humility. I do believe you’re mellowing in your old age, Aulus.’
Abascantius continued undetered: ‘In stopping Scaurus, you not only prevented one of the most audacious crimes ever committed against the Empire, but you may also have helped secure peace in this region, possibly for years to come. I have dispatched missives describing what occurred to both Chief Pulcher and the Emperor himself, and I have no doubt that they will add their profound gratitude to mine. Now — some tokens of that gratitude. Never let it be said that the Service doesn’t reward those who do their duty.’
Cassius felt rather thrilled by what he heard. Not thrilled enough to make any of the nightmarish last few weeks seem worthwhile but proud nonetheless. He imagined returning home to a hero’s reception back in Ravenna, the warm congratulations of family and friends. No such luck.