The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 (51 page)

It was stuck.

‘It’s holding! Come here.’ He reached out, grabbed Indavara’s arm and pulled him closer.

The bodyguard stretched past him and clutched the rope. ‘Well done. Now just hold on to my belt.’

Cassius didn’t need much encouragement. He gripped tight with both hands and Indavara was soon hauling their combined weight through the stinking, clinging mud. Gradually the pillars emerged out of the gloom, then the side of the basin. As the sound of the water grew weaker, the bodyguard pulled them to safety.

There were still several yards to go when Cassius finally realised what had saved them. Numerous branches and other bits of refuse had collected by the side of the basin, forming a semi-solid strip several feet thick. Once there, they scrambled up it and threw their hands over the lip of the basin.

While Indavara recovered, Cassius reached down and disentangled the sword. If it hadn’t been covered with mud he would have kissed it. ‘Glad I insisted we brought that rope.’

‘I thought that was the end,’ breathed Indavara. ‘Really.’

Cassius wiped his sleeve across his mouth, which added to the dirt rather than reducing it. ‘Ugh.’

He spat again but the horrid taste remained. ‘Submerged beneath a sea of shit – an apt metaphor and a fitting end for these last few years, but I must say I’m rather glad we avoided it.’

‘Corbulo, listen. Sorry if I panicked.’

‘Think nothing of it. Come on, let’s get out of here. There has to be a way up to the surface.’

Cassius was about to pull himself over the lip when he saw flickering light and heard quickly moving footsteps. From nowhere, the bald head of their pursuer appeared, face in shadow with the light behind him. He stepped higher and looked down at them over the lip, tapping the tip of his sword against the stone.

‘You two have a nasty habit of getting away,’ he rasped. ‘But not this time.’ He retracted the blade and aimed at Indavara’s head. ‘Say hello to the ferryman for—’

His whole body went still. The sword dropped between them. The bald man’s head snapped upward then shook. He lasted only a few more moments then fell forward over the lip, arms dangling.

Behind him, still holding the lantern, was a wide-eyed fellow with a head of curly black hair. He stared down at the slick, red blade of his dagger and gulped.

‘Thanks,’ said Indavara. He nabbed the old man’s sword then pulled himself up and sat on the lip of the basin, eyeing the interloper. Cassius watched him too and stayed well clear of the blade as he dropped down beside him.

‘Who are you?’

The stranger was still looking at the man he had killed. He had struck into the back of his heart; there was a tear in the tunic and a bloody smear.

‘I couldn’t let him do it,’ he said in Greek. ‘I have been weak, gone along with them for too long. I should never have got involved.’

‘Who are you?’ repeated Cassius.

‘My name is Kallikres.’

XXXIV

At Cassius’s insistence, Kallikres told his tale while they looked for a way out. Even so, a considerable amount of prompting was required to get the sergeant to admit why he’d finally been forced to cooperate with the gang. His main concern now seemed to be getting the boy out of the villa unharmed.

‘We will do what we can,’ said Cassius. ‘Now what are their names, this brother and sister?’

‘I don’t know. I was never told that. The only names I know are Skiron and Bathyllos. Gods, will we ever get back above ground?’

The way out of the settling basin had been via a staircase at one end of the chamber. They now found themselves in a low, narrow tunnel just below the street. Built into the roof was a series of circular iron gratings, but every one of the eight they had so far passed was bolted from above.

‘What if the work crew have warned them?’ said Kallikres as he marched along behind Cassius.

Cassius was trying not to consider that possibility. The thought of fumbling around in these accursed tunnels while the architects of the counterfeiting operation got clean away was maddening.

‘You’re sure nobody saw Cosmas?’ he asked.

‘Definitely.’

‘Then he got away. Which hopefully means he got help and apprehended the crew. We may still have time.’

Indavara ran forward to the next grating. He reached up and gave it a shove. Unlike the others, it moved. Cassius came up beside him with Kallikres’ lantern and saw that half of the iron bars had been crushed by a heavy impact from above. Indavara got both hands on it and pushed again. The grating flew up then clanged on to the street.

‘Thank the gods,’ said Kallikres.

All things considered, Cassius reckoned the sergeant would be wise to consider his own well-being rather than that of his lover. Having colluded with a criminal gang who had sought to exploit the image of the Emperor, he might face the harshest of sanctions.

With some help from the other two, Indavara hauled himself through the opening. He then pulled them up after him.

‘Gods, that stench is coming from us,’ said Cassius. His clothes and satchel were wet through and every inch of him apart from his face was coated with the malodorous mud.

The trio found themselves at the corner of a small, quiet square. The only lights were coming from an apartment block close by. Cassius looked east and saw that the first rays of sunlight were colouring the clouds above the mountains.

‘Know where we are?’ asked Indavara.

‘Yes,’ answered Kallikres.

‘Back to the warehouse, then,’ said Cassius. ‘Quickly.’

‘But what about the villa?’

‘Listen, I – we – appreciate your late change of heart, believe me. But I have priorities other than your young friend. The sooner we get to the warehouse, the sooner we can get to that villa. Lead on.’

Like Kallikres, they set off at a run.

‘Shit on me,’ said Indavara. ‘What a night.’

The warehouse seemed to be the busiest place in the city. Even before they were let through the gate by Vespilo, Cassius could see Cosmas had done well. There were at least a dozen sergeants there and he found the diminutive Syrian standing in front of nine men lying on the ground, hands tied behind them.

‘Jupiter be praised,’ said Cosmas when he saw the filthy figures walking towards him. ‘It’s been hours. What happened?’

‘Long story – no time to tell it.’

Noting Cosmas’s curious glance at Kallikres, Cassius beckoned him forward and explained why he was with them. Cosmas made little attempt to hide his disdain for the traitor, who was looking warily around at his fellow sergeants.

‘Sure you got them all?’ asked Indavara, pointing at the men on the ground.

‘All that they brought along tonight,’ said Cosmas.

‘It’s all of them,’ said Cassius. ‘There were only eight named in the ledger plus the supervisor. Get anything out of them?’

‘Not yet,’ said Cosmas.

‘What about Bathyllos?’

‘I sent a pair of men to his house with orders to intercept him if he leaves or any message he sends out. I can have him brought in immediately.’

‘Do it. We’ll question him back at headquarters then head straight out to this villa – hopefully before they find out what’s gone on here.’

‘And this place?’ asked Cosmas, turning towards the factory.

‘Lock it up and leave as many men as you can to guard it. Did you find the strongbox?’

Cosmas nodded at the ground; the box was there next to one of the captive’s feet. The sergeant then doled out a series of orders to his men.

‘I also need a runner to go to the tower and fetch Simo.’

Cosmas called over one of the younger sergeants and Cassius gave him both instructions and directions.

‘This way,’ said Cosmas, heading off towards the side gate. ‘We can use their horses.’

Indavara gave Kallikres a shove and stayed behind him. He already had the sergeant’s knife tucked into his belt.

‘I’m guessing the tunnel came out there?’ said Cassius, pointing at the stables ahead of them.

‘Yes,’ replied Cosmas. ‘I’d only just pulled myself out when those hunters turned up.’

‘Hunters?’ said Indavara.

‘Looked like Itureans to me – from the mountain tribes. No one’s ever really been able to conquer that lot. Tough bastards, every one. What happened to them?’

Cassius aimed a thumb at Indavara. ‘He did. What about Diadromes?’

‘I sent him a message but he might not be able to get away – there was trouble at the forum last night.’

‘Gods, what is it this time?’

‘They flogged the youths that defaced the statue – did it late last night so no one was around. Only six lashes each but one of the younger lads collapsed after the first stroke and never came round. Even Nemetorius’ surgeon couldn’t revive him. Somehow word got out.’

‘Well, that’s not our concern. Apparently this villa’s about five miles east of the city. We’ll need plenty of men and plenty of horses. I want to be there no later than the second hour.’

As Cassius, Indavara and Kallikres followed Cosmas through the headquarters building, a squad of sergeants jogged past. Every man was equipped with helmet and shield, armed with club and sword. Apparently hundreds of protesters had now congregated outside the forum and the magistrate’s residence and every single man had been called in to help.

Gessius was waiting outside the interrogation room. He told them that Bathyllos appeared ready to give up everyone and everything in return for clemency; he was also desperate that his family not learn of his crimes.

Cassius would have preferred to have changed but – until Simo arrived – he was stuck with the filth and the smell.

‘Come on.’ He opened the door and the four of them filed in.

Bathyllos was sitting on a chair with his bound hands on the table. His hair was unkempt and he was wearing a sleeveless sleeping tunic. He looked away and shook his head when he recognised Cassius.

‘I’m going to make this quick. Have you contacted your employers?’

‘First you must tell me what I’ll recieive in return for cooperation.’

‘I will do what I can but only if you help me now. Time is critical. Have you contacted them? Warned them?’

‘But what guarantees—’

Cassius thumped a fist on the table. ‘Nothing. And any help you do receive is dependent on my goodwill, so I suggest you start talking.’

Bathyllos took his hands off the table. ‘No, I haven’t contacted them. I deal only with Skiron.’ He looked at Kallikres. ‘Him I’ve never seen before tonight.’

The sergeant had already disclosed that Skiron had called in at Bathyllos’ house and instructed him to send the work crew to the factory.

A knock on the door. Gessius entered and whispered to Cosmas then both the sergeants left.

Cassius turned back to Bathyllos. ‘If we hadn’t intervened how long would it have taken them – to clear out the workshop?’

‘Most of the night, I suppose.’

‘Kallikres, did they give any indication of how long? Or how they might get word back to the villa?’

‘Not that I heard. Sir, please, we must leave.’

Cassius ignored him. ‘Bathyllos, I will ask once more – you have not warned them? If I later find out otherwise you can expect the opposite of help from me.’

The Syrian threw up his hands. ‘I swear it, upon my wife and children. You must understand, I had no choice – they forced me into it.’

‘Sir,’ said Kallikres. ‘These people are not stupid, they were readying themselves to leave. If they suspect for a moment that something has gone wrong—’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Cassius. ‘We’re going.’

Outside he found Gessius alone.

‘Where’s Cosmas?’

‘He was called away, sir. As a senior sergeant he must take charge of his squad and lead them out to the governor’s residence.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, sir. Only a few of us will remain here. He passed on his apologies. There is also a note from Deputy Magistrate Diadromes.’

Cassius took it from him as they set off towards the aid post, where they were to meet Simo.

‘Shit.’ Once he’d read it, Cassius rolled the scrap of paper into a ball and flung it aside.

‘What?’ asked Indavara.

‘The deputy magistrate also apologises but states that the forum and the residence are virtually surrounded. He informs me that I should use my authority and requisition some legionaries. He seems certain Nemetorius will be too busy dealing with the protesters to even notice.’

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