of.”
“What? What game is this?”
“Not a game,” he said urgently. “Them two men, they’re up to no good. I’ve seen them before.”
“They say they’re from Kickers and Punchers.”
He shook his head. “They were here in the woods two nights ago, and they attacked a man. Beat him up, and killed his horse. I saw it. Now Taurus says that’s the sick man you’ve got here. So I thought I better warn you.”
“You saw them? If you’re making this up….”
“No, honest. I saw. ”
The boy was deadly serious. The words “Roman treachery” resounded in my head, and I couldn’t begin to deal with the implications of what he’d just said; the important thing was the sick man in the house, and I was convinced now that whatever his quarrel with the two investigators, it was Quintus’ side I was on.
“You swear this is true?”
“I swear.”
“Right. I’ll talk to you later.”
I raced back through the front door. And the bar-room was empty. The men had vanished.
I began to panic. Where had they gone? Where was Albia? And what were they doing to Quintus Antonius?
I ran into the courtyard, and that was empty too. I raced into the guest wing, along the corridor to Quintus Antonius’ room, and found them just inside the door, making for the bed. Nonius had his sword half out of its scabbard, but he pushed it back as I charged in, apologising fulsomely for having left them alone. I saw a look of annoyance pass between the two men, just for a heartbeat, then they were impassive again, but they still moved purposefully towards the bed. “Wake up, Quintus Antonius,” Rabirius shouted, loud enough to rouse the shades from the underworld. “Wake up, man! We’ve come to look after you!”
“Please, Officer,” I protested. “The man’s unconscious, you can see that for yourself. He’s also very ill. There’s no call to make such a noise.”
Quintus lay quite still, breathing heavily but regularly. The two men looked at the bed, and then Rabirius reached down and pulled back the blankets. Quintus didn’t move a muscle.
Rabirius said, “That’s him all right. And he’s had quite a pasting.” He didn’t sound sympathetic.
Deliberately I went and covered the still figure up with the blankets, and stood close to the bed, facing the two men. They read it, correctly, as a challenge, and both took a pace backward.
“One of your men, you say?” I asked. “Was he on a case in this district?”
“The details needn’t concern you, my dear.” Rabirius’ attempt at being soothing was unconvincing. “He’s one of ours, that’s all that matters, and we always look after our own. We must get him to Eburacum.”
“As quickly as possible,” Nonius agreed. “It’s essential he has proper medical care. I know you’ve done your best, and we’re grateful, but we’ll deal with everything now. We’ll take him back there straight away. You presumably have suitable transport we can requisition?”
You’re taking him nowhere, I thought. Roman treachery…. But how was I going to stop them?
“Well of course I appreciate your concern,” I answered, “but this man’s sick, and while he’s under my roof I’m responsible for him. I can’t let you move him till he’s recovered.”
“You really mustn’t worry,” Rabirius said, still trying to be reassuring, and failing dismally. “I can promise you he’ll be very well looked after. The medical facilities at Eburacum are absolutely top class. Come now, let’s not waste any more time.”
“No, I can’t agree….” I began.
Nonius waved my objection aside. “Leave it to us now. Get your people to prepare comfortable transport, and we’ll be on our way. I’m sure you’d like to do the right thing for this poor man. I don’t want to have to make it an official order.”
Refusing to let them move him would be a serious step. Once I’d taken it, there’d be no going back. For the last time, that nagging doubt struck me: what if
“What? What game is this?”
“Not a game,” he said urgently. “Them two men, they’re up to no good. I’ve seen them before.”
“They say they’re from Kickers and Punchers.”
He shook his head. “They were here in the woods two nights ago, and they attacked a man. Beat him up, and killed his horse. I saw it. Now Taurus says that’s the sick man you’ve got here. So I thought I better warn you.”
“You saw them? If you’re making this up….”
“No, honest. I saw. ”
The boy was deadly serious. The words “Roman treachery” resounded in my head, and I couldn’t begin to deal with the implications of what he’d just said; the important thing was the sick man in the house, and I was convinced now that whatever his quarrel with the two investigators, it was Quintus’ side I was on.
“You swear this is true?”
“I swear.”
“Right. I’ll talk to you later.”
I raced back through the front door. And the bar-room was empty. The men had vanished.
I began to panic. Where had they gone? Where was Albia? And what were they doing to Quintus Antonius?
I ran into the courtyard, and that was empty too. I raced into the guest wing, along the corridor to Quintus Antonius’ room, and found them just inside the door, making for the bed. Nonius had his sword half out of its scabbard, but he pushed it back as I charged in, apologising fulsomely for having left them alone. I saw a look of annoyance pass between the two men, just for a heartbeat, then they were impassive again, but they still moved purposefully towards the bed. “Wake up, Quintus Antonius,” Rabirius shouted, loud enough to rouse the shades from the underworld. “Wake up, man! We’ve come to look after you!”
“Please, Officer,” I protested. “The man’s unconscious, you can see that for yourself. He’s also very ill. There’s no call to make such a noise.”
Quintus lay quite still, breathing heavily but regularly. The two men looked at the bed, and then Rabirius reached down and pulled back the blankets. Quintus didn’t move a muscle.
Rabirius said, “That’s him all right. And he’s had quite a pasting.” He didn’t sound sympathetic.
Deliberately I went and covered the still figure up with the blankets, and stood close to the bed, facing the two men. They read it, correctly, as a challenge, and both took a pace backward.
“One of your men, you say?” I asked. “Was he on a case in this district?”
“The details needn’t concern you, my dear.” Rabirius’ attempt at being soothing was unconvincing. “He’s one of ours, that’s all that matters, and we always look after our own. We must get him to Eburacum.”
“As quickly as possible,” Nonius agreed. “It’s essential he has proper medical care. I know you’ve done your best, and we’re grateful, but we’ll deal with everything now. We’ll take him back there straight away. You presumably have suitable transport we can requisition?”
You’re taking him nowhere, I thought. Roman treachery…. But how was I going to stop them?
“Well of course I appreciate your concern,” I answered, “but this man’s sick, and while he’s under my roof I’m responsible for him. I can’t let you move him till he’s recovered.”
“You really mustn’t worry,” Rabirius said, still trying to be reassuring, and failing dismally. “I can promise you he’ll be very well looked after. The medical facilities at Eburacum are absolutely top class. Come now, let’s not waste any more time.”
“No, I can’t agree….” I began.
Nonius waved my objection aside. “Leave it to us now. Get your people to prepare comfortable transport, and we’ll be on our way. I’m sure you’d like to do the right thing for this poor man. I don’t want to have to make it an official order.”
Refusing to let them move him would be a serious step. Once I’d taken it, there’d be no going back. For the last time, that nagging doubt struck me: what if
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