Rufinus nodded. ‘We may need access to the imperial apartments, majesty?’
‘If you do, then speak to Vettius or Menander’ she indicated the chamberlain – the first time Rufinus had heard him mentioned by name.
‘Yes ma’am.’
‘Go then. Be about your work.’
Rufinus gave a short half-bow and backed out of the room as the empress returned to her seat. As he emerged at the entrance to the baths, pausing at the doorway to replace his military boots, Hactes the gladiator bustled round him.
‘There’s talk of a theft… of interrogations and executions?’
Rufinus shook his head. ‘It won’t come to that. In fact, I doubt this will take me more than an hour or two.’ He grinned at Hactes’ baffled expression. ‘Get back on duty. Pass the word to the rest that everything needs to go on as normal.’
The gladiator shrugged and nodded, hurrying away, leaving Rufinus standing in the chilly, damp morning air. He had absolutely no doubt as to the culprit, though the motive was still obscure, and the matter of prime importance would remain finding the stolen brooch. Tapping his finger thoughtfully on his lower lip, he strode from the baths and out into the open, past the arch of the guard-house once more.
At least he was currently off duty and supposed to be asleep, so no schedules would be put out by his investigation. Senova. He needed Senova.
The intoxicating British slave girl had not been present in the bath house, which had seemed a little odd. Senova was rarely far from Lucilla. But if she wasn’t with the lady then she was surely preparing something for her.
Turning on his heel, he re-entered the palace, this time heading toward the imperial apartments. A quick journey through the corridors and he arrived at the vestibule that led to Lucilla’s private quarters. It was forbidden for the guard to enter, and he’d not spoken to the major domo or the chamberlain. For a moment, he toyed with entering anyway, but stopped. There was muffled conversation from the other end of the corridor and the sound of urgent work.
‘Senova?’
The shuffling and clattering stopped and the muted conversation drifted off.
‘Senova?’ he tried again.
‘Rustius?’
There was another brief, muffled exchange, and then the creamy-white-faced slave girl with her delightfully upturned nose appeared in the corridor, hurrying toward him with an armful of sheets.
‘Rustius? What are you doing? You should not be near here. You will have us both punished!’
Rufinus smiled at her, which simply raised an exasperated sigh. ‘Senova, I need a favour.’
Quarter of an hour later, Rufinus paused at the top of the stairs and glanced around. The slave quarters murmured with the drone of life. The wood of the balconies and walkways was slightly slippery with the morning dew that clung to Latium with damp fingers.
He could just hear the Senova’s voice at the base of the stairs and padded quietly across the top balcony to the vaulted chamber next to the one outside which he’d been standing. With held breath, he listened, but could hear no sound from the room. Lifting the damp blanket that served as a wall to one side, he ducked within to the simple chamber, grateful to find it empty.
He had been a little delayed by his return to the Praetorium, where he had changed into his soft boots and paused to feed Acheron. Briefly he’d wondered if the dog would be of use, but had decided that stealth would win out here.
His breath coming in light bursts, he leaned against the wall, close to the blanket and listened carefully. Two distinct sets of footsteps lifted and fell as they reached the top of the flight of stairs and alighted onto the balcony.
‘So will they bring everyone in for questioning?’
The voice quivered nervously. Rufinus, not distracted by Senova’s physical presence, could read volumes in that voice. Fear mostly. Fear, and panic, and urgency. Not
just
that. In the aftermath of such an event, all those who had cause to be close to the empress would now be in a cold sweat, panicking about the torture and death that would be heading their way. But this voice held something other than fear, panic and urgency. Hidden beneath those tones was a healthy dose of guilt. Rufinus could almost hear her very bones and blood crying out her culpability and once more shook his head, wondering at the motive behind it all.
‘No.’ Senova’s voice. ‘The empress has another of her gatherings coming up, plus a trip to the capital in the near future. She cannot afford to dismiss her entire staff and buy new ones in time. There’s to be a search.’
The second voice, clearer now as the two women approached the vaulted accommodation next door, sounded even more nervous. ‘Your soldier friend told you all this?’
There was a pause and Rufinus wondered what was happening, pictured Senova miming things to her, though if she’d wanted to interfere, she could have done it long before they’d arrived.
‘We have… an understanding. I think he worries about me, that I might be connected or have something to do with it. They’re going to search all the servant and slaves quarters first and then go
room by room in the palace. What they plan to do if they don’t find it then, I’ve no idea, but I suspect it’ll go bad for us all.’
Rufinus smiled in the darkness. Every morsel of information he’d passed to Senova, delivered perfectly. The smile faltered for only a moment as his conscience once more presented him with the fact that he was becoming a very accomplished liar.
‘Then let’s hope they find it eh?’
Rufinus could almost hear the panicked twang in her voice now and his smile returned.
‘Anyway, I have to get on. See you later’
The sound of Senova’s sandals slapping on the wood echoed in the vaulted chamber and then muted slightly on the balcony as she made for the stairs and descended them quickly.
Rufinus stood as still as he could, breath held as he listened intently for activity in the next chamber. There were a couple of shuffles, but no sounds that Rufinus would associate with a person digging deep into secret places to retrieve a hidden object. Then, a moment later, he heard the girl pass to the chamber’s entrance and the sound of a blanket being shifted. The occupant of the next room paused and Rufinus realised that he could still hear Senova as she neared the base of the staircase.
As that sound turned into a distant echo in the tunnel that ran along the length of the chambers toward the main villa entrance, finally the girl in the next room moved, presumably having waited long enough for Senova to leave.
Rufinus continued to listen intently as the girl’s footsteps rattled out across the wooden platform and began the tell-tale thud of descent toward the ground.
Waiting until he heard the sound change indicating that she had reached the first landing, Rufinus ducked back through the blanket and out onto the platform. Just to be sure, he crossed lightly to the edge and took a quick look over, at the staircase below and off to his left. His boxing history had provided him with more talents than simply beating a man insensible: despite his tendency to embarrassing accidents, Rufinus was extremely light on his feet when he needed to be, dancing quietly along in soft leather boots.
His gaze shifted back and forth among the supports and flights of stairs until it fell on his quarry. There she was. Galla, the slave girl with bronze skin, almond eyes and wavy black hair, hurried down the staircase, clutching her garments tight around her as she
descended. He couldn’t say why it was that he knew she was the culprit, beyond the fact that she’d clearly been nervous for some months and was keeping secrets from even her closest friend. But he’d somehow known it was her as soon as the theft had been announced.
Lightly and carefully he descended the stairs, pausing occasionally to glance ahead and judge how far away she was. As Galla alighted on the ground and disappeared into the tunnel, Rufinus picked up his pace and started to gain on his quarry.
A few moments later he was in the tunnel. Pausing again, he could hear a number of footsteps echoing through the subterranean corridor and delivered an inward curse. It would be impossible to follow the sound of her and he would hardly see her from here. There was nothing for it now but to hope that she intended to exit the tunnel at the far end, by the common exit.
Picking up his pace, he turned the corner and rushed along the corridor, ignoring and ignored by the other servants and slaves going about their business in the dim interior. Of Galla there was no sign, and he began to curse himself for not staying closer, however risky it might be. Ignoring the faces that turned to look at him, he started to run, pounding along the corridor with light, slapping footsteps.
At the far end, he ducked quickly into the staircase and hurried up to the level of the villa’s main structures. At the top, he paused for breath and glanced left and right urgently, trying to spot his prey. A number of figures moved around the garden between here and Pompeianus’ palace, and he almost missed her. It was only the slight movement in the corner of his right eye that drew his gaze as Galla, plain brown stola pulled tight around her, as she veered off from the residential sectors of the villa and toward the golden house and the amphitheatre that languished on the slope below. Rufinus knew the area well from his time patrolling the grounds, but in all that time he’d rarely seen servants there.
Frowning as he moved, he followed the slave girl along the line of the palace’s outer wall, skirting the golden house and disappearing through a small gate in the wall that lined the perimeter of the inhabited sections of the complex. A short set of steps led down to the dilapidated huntsman’s house, where the half dozen hunt masters who looked after Hadrianus’ hounds and hawks had resided. No upkeep had been carried out on the building in decades and already ivy was attacking the outer walls.
On she went, around the amphitheatre and to the corner of the huge revetment that supported the terrace of the palace gardens. Here were half a dozen small sheds and stores that the gardeners used, the only place out here where servants ever went. Rufinus shook his head again. Those sheds were in daily use, or every other day at least. She couldn’t hide anything safely in there. And yet as he watched, Galla reached up and tied her hair at the nape of her neck, flexed her fingers and disappeared inside the nearest shed.
Confused, Rufinus moved to a large, gnarled olive tree growing on the slope nearby and ducked behind the bole, eyes locked on the shed. A moment later Galla emerged, though not, as Rufinus had expected, tucking away a small package and scurrying back. Instead, she appeared through the door with an armful of seasoned logs, struggling to keep the burden together.
Rufinus’ frown deepened again. What in Hades was she up to?
He paused at the tree until the girl was some distance away, though now she moved slowly, balancing the wood. Rufinus squinted ahead and could just see one of Phaestor’s other men on duty, rounding the far end of the revetment. Good. He’d assumed this place was still regularly patrolled.
And in that realisation, as Galla strolled past the guard with an armful of logs, Rufinus understood what she was doing. She needed an excuse and she would be going with the logs to…
Rufinus grinned. His second realisation came hot on the heels of the first and smacked him between the eyes. He now had a good idea how she had hidden the brooch. His smile widened.
The guard nodded to Galla in passing and continued on towards, and then past, the tree behind which Rufinus lurked. Only a little further along, the girl struggled to change her grip on the logs she carried before turning and disappearing from sight along a tunnel.
The heating system!
Rufinus took one more quick look at the former gladiator who had walked past him less than ten paces away, entirely unaware of his presence. As soon as the gladiator had moved on sufficiently, Rufinus ran from his cover and along the side of the great supporting wall until he reached the nondescript entrance to the heating system. The heavy door stood open and unlocked. It would not have been hard for Galla to acquire a key to this service area.
The tunnel led some twenty paces into the darkness and to the furnace. Here, logs were burned almost continuously to provide the flow of hot air that passed beneath the floors of the some of the residential areas. An oil lamp cast a faint glow at the far end of the corridor, and the light bobbed and then vanished.
Rufinus frowned and moved as fast as he dared toward the last known position of that light, hands stretched out forward and to the sides to prevent stumbling straight into the rock wall. The light from behind cast a faint glow but it wasn’t enough to see anything other than the faintest changes in shade. His hands brushed the wall to his right and he felt the tell-tale shower of soot. He had reached the furnace.
Taking a deeply unpleasant sooty breath, he leaned to one side to allow what little light shone from the tunnel entrance to illuminate the area before him. Though the light was extremely dim, given the previous total darkness it allowed him to see the two channels before him. The heated current of air from the furnace would be sucked along those tunnels to warm floors. They were barely wide enough for a human to move through, but
just
wide enough, for the rare occasions when they required maintenance, when thin slave boys would be sent down there.
Not muscly ex-boxer guards.
He ducked low and looked back and forth between the two tunnels. Sure enough, a distant faint orange glow identified the route Galla had taken. For a moment, he wondered whether he could safely wait here for her to reappear with the stolen goods, but quickly dismissed the idea. What if this tunnel connected to another exit? He would lose her then, for sure.
With a quiet sigh of dismay, Rufinus dropped to his haunches and began to move into the narrow, claustrophobic tunnel. He was immediately both grateful and sorry that he was in a simple tunic without his mail shirt. The armour would have made noise that he could certainly do without, but it would also have protected his skin.
As he moved along the passage, his shoulders scraped unpleasantly on the sooty wall and he felt the cramps beginning in his leg muscles as he shuffled in a permanent crouch.