and follow the carts looking for high wages or adventure.”
“Are the wages good?”
Lupus guffawed. “This is an imperial project, Falco. The men just
think
they will get special rates.”
“Do you have trouble attracting labor?”
“It’s a prestigious contract.”
“One that will embarrass people in high places if it goes wrong!” I grinned. After a moment, Lupus grinned back. Dry lips parted slowly and reluctantly; he was a cautious partaker of mirth. Or just cautious. He was at least talking to me, but I did not fool myself. I could not expect his trust.
“Yes, it’s rather public.” Lupus grimaced. “Otherwise, it may be bloody big, but it’s just domestic, isn’t it?”
“Major engineering is more complex?”
“The governor’s palace in Londinium has more clout. I wouldn’t say no to a transfer there.”
“Any snobbery because the client is a Briton?”
“I don’t care who he is. And I don’t let the men complain.”
Most of his front teeth were missing. I wondered how many barroom fights accounted for his losses. He was of burly build. He looked capable of handling himself, and of splitting up any troublemakers.
“So you have a whole crowd of migrant workers—scores, or hundreds even?” I asked, recalling him to the subject. Lupus nodded, confirming the larger number. “What sort of life is there for the men? They get basic accommodations?”
“Temporary hutments close to the site.”
“No privacy, no room to breathe.”
“Worse than house-slaves at some luxury villas—but better than slaves in the mines.” Lupus shrugged.
“Yours is free labor?”
“Mixture. But I hate slaves,” he said. “A big site’s too open. Too many transports leaving. I don’t have time to stop the merry hordes running off.”
“So your men get adequate rations, washing facilities, and a roof.”
“If the weather holds, our fellows are out of doors all day. We want them fit and full of energy.”
“Like the army.”
“The same, Falco.”
“So how is discipline?”
“Not too bad.”
“But the high value of materials on-site leads to diddling?”
“We keep the risky stuff locked away in decent stores.”
“I’ve seen the depot with the new fence.”
“Yes, well. You wouldn’t think there was anywhere around here to sell the stuff, or any means of moving it away—but some bugger will always manage. I arrange the best watchmen I can, and we’ve brought in dogs to help them. Then we just hope.”
“Hmm.” That was an area I had to pursue later. “And how is life out here? The men have leisure time?”
He groaned. “They do.”
“Tell me.”
“That’s where my troubles really start. They are bored. They are thinking they will get large bonuses—and half of them spend the money before we even dole it out. They have access to beer—there’s too much, and some are not used to it. They rape the native women—or so the women’s fathers claim when they come haranguing me—and they beat up the native men.”
“That’s the fathers, husbands, lovers, and brothers of their attractive lady friends?”
“For starters. Or on the right night, my lads will take on anyone else who has a long haircut, a strong accent, or funny trousers and a red mustache.” Lupus almost sounded proud of their spirit. “If they can’t find a Briton to abuse, they just beat up each other instead. The Italians gang up on the Gauls. When that palls, for variety the Italians tear into each other and the Gauls do the same. That’s less tricky to deal with in some ways than distraught civilian Britons hoping for a compensation payout, though it leaves me shorthanded. Pomponius gives me all Hades if too many on the complement are laid up with cracked heads. But, Falco”—Lupus stretched towards me earnestly—“this is just life on a building site abroad. It is happening all over the Empire.”
“And you are saying it means nothing?”
“It means I have my work cut out—but
“Are the wages good?”
Lupus guffawed. “This is an imperial project, Falco. The men just
think
they will get special rates.”
“Do you have trouble attracting labor?”
“It’s a prestigious contract.”
“One that will embarrass people in high places if it goes wrong!” I grinned. After a moment, Lupus grinned back. Dry lips parted slowly and reluctantly; he was a cautious partaker of mirth. Or just cautious. He was at least talking to me, but I did not fool myself. I could not expect his trust.
“Yes, it’s rather public.” Lupus grimaced. “Otherwise, it may be bloody big, but it’s just domestic, isn’t it?”
“Major engineering is more complex?”
“The governor’s palace in Londinium has more clout. I wouldn’t say no to a transfer there.”
“Any snobbery because the client is a Briton?”
“I don’t care who he is. And I don’t let the men complain.”
Most of his front teeth were missing. I wondered how many barroom fights accounted for his losses. He was of burly build. He looked capable of handling himself, and of splitting up any troublemakers.
“So you have a whole crowd of migrant workers—scores, or hundreds even?” I asked, recalling him to the subject. Lupus nodded, confirming the larger number. “What sort of life is there for the men? They get basic accommodations?”
“Temporary hutments close to the site.”
“No privacy, no room to breathe.”
“Worse than house-slaves at some luxury villas—but better than slaves in the mines.” Lupus shrugged.
“Yours is free labor?”
“Mixture. But I hate slaves,” he said. “A big site’s too open. Too many transports leaving. I don’t have time to stop the merry hordes running off.”
“So your men get adequate rations, washing facilities, and a roof.”
“If the weather holds, our fellows are out of doors all day. We want them fit and full of energy.”
“Like the army.”
“The same, Falco.”
“So how is discipline?”
“Not too bad.”
“But the high value of materials on-site leads to diddling?”
“We keep the risky stuff locked away in decent stores.”
“I’ve seen the depot with the new fence.”
“Yes, well. You wouldn’t think there was anywhere around here to sell the stuff, or any means of moving it away—but some bugger will always manage. I arrange the best watchmen I can, and we’ve brought in dogs to help them. Then we just hope.”
“Hmm.” That was an area I had to pursue later. “And how is life out here? The men have leisure time?”
He groaned. “They do.”
“Tell me.”
“That’s where my troubles really start. They are bored. They are thinking they will get large bonuses—and half of them spend the money before we even dole it out. They have access to beer—there’s too much, and some are not used to it. They rape the native women—or so the women’s fathers claim when they come haranguing me—and they beat up the native men.”
“That’s the fathers, husbands, lovers, and brothers of their attractive lady friends?”
“For starters. Or on the right night, my lads will take on anyone else who has a long haircut, a strong accent, or funny trousers and a red mustache.” Lupus almost sounded proud of their spirit. “If they can’t find a Briton to abuse, they just beat up each other instead. The Italians gang up on the Gauls. When that palls, for variety the Italians tear into each other and the Gauls do the same. That’s less tricky to deal with in some ways than distraught civilian Britons hoping for a compensation payout, though it leaves me shorthanded. Pomponius gives me all Hades if too many on the complement are laid up with cracked heads. But, Falco”—Lupus stretched towards me earnestly—“this is just life on a building site abroad. It is happening all over the Empire.”
“And you are saying it means nothing?”
“It means I have my work cut out—but
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