considered his point then gave their assent.
‘We would be most appreciative if you could bring up the subject of military billeting. We have heard that several centuries will be passing through in the coming weeks and there has been an unfortunate tendency to favour the western side of the city because it is fractionally closer to the army compound. We would like to see this imbalance redressed.’
‘I shall ensure that the assistant procurator knows of your concern.’
The large man walked over and they shook forearms. ‘Theopropides, chief of the guild.’ He grabbed a chair for Cassius while the others cleared a space.
‘Many thanks. I shall be back in a moment.’ Cassius went to his room and retrieved the spearhead and the page of information from the land register.
‘Need me, sir?’ said Simo, getting up off his bed.
‘Yes – to make notes.’
While Simo grabbed some writing materials, Cassius returned to the parlour. He doubted the innkeepers would know a lot about the casters, but they were clearly familiar with the great and the good of Tripolis. As he sat down, Neokles placed his wine on the table.
Cassius laid the spearhead next to it. ‘It is best that you know who you are addressing. I am Centurion Cassius Oranius Crispian, currently attached to the governor’s staff of Arabia.’ He thought it best not to mention the Service – partly to protect his anonymity in Tripolis, partly to negate any unpleasant associations his audience might have with ‘grain men’. He had used centurion with Neokles because ‘officer’ would confuse him.
‘I am here on an assignment given to me by Marshal Marcellinus himself. I’m sure it goes without saying that this is all in confidence.’
‘Of course,’ said Theopropides, pushing silver bangles up his chubby arm.
‘Now, if I may, I will read out some names. I am not looking for scandal or secrets, merely some background information. It occurred to me that you gentlemen might be extremely well informed.’
‘Please,’ said another of the guildsmen.
Cassius pushed his chair back a little so that they couldn’t see the list. Simo grabbed himself a stool and sat behind him, ready with writing block, paper and pen.
‘Scribonius Maursus.’
Theopropides took the lead. ‘Local landowner, his main estate is south of the city. Interests in shipping and olive oil.’
‘Three vineyards also,’ said another man.
Simo scribbled the first of his notes.
‘Not particularly concerned with politics,’ added Neokles. ‘His brother represents the family on the city council.’
Cassius nodded appreciatively. He would have liked to ask about the man’s reputation and the very scandals he’d claimed not to be interested in but the guildsmen would instantly clam up. Despite their enthusiasm, he was a visitor and had offered them only a comparatively small favour; the innkeepers would not be impolitic enough to impugn their betters in so open a way.
‘Good, thank you.’ And so it went on. Cassius considered all the information useful but there was nothing of real interest until the sixth name: an individual named Vesnius Isatis. Theopropides offered the basics on his business interests but said nothing more and no one else seemed keen to contribute.
Eventually, Neokles spoke up. ‘You might mention his name to Assistant Procurator Dominicus. He would … know more, I’m sure.’
‘Very well.’
Cassius continued down the list. The guildsmen passed on what they knew. Simo made his notes.
The penultimate name was that of one Numerius Afer. Upon hearing it, Theopropides hesitated, grimaced, then took a sip of wine. One man was about to speak but another held up his hand. Then an argument broke out in Aramaic. Neokles leant close to Cassius and apologised. After a short time, Theopropides silenced the others and continued in Greek.
‘Brothers, it is a matter of public record. The centurion here will learn this and more besides as soon as he
‘We would be most appreciative if you could bring up the subject of military billeting. We have heard that several centuries will be passing through in the coming weeks and there has been an unfortunate tendency to favour the western side of the city because it is fractionally closer to the army compound. We would like to see this imbalance redressed.’
‘I shall ensure that the assistant procurator knows of your concern.’
The large man walked over and they shook forearms. ‘Theopropides, chief of the guild.’ He grabbed a chair for Cassius while the others cleared a space.
‘Many thanks. I shall be back in a moment.’ Cassius went to his room and retrieved the spearhead and the page of information from the land register.
‘Need me, sir?’ said Simo, getting up off his bed.
‘Yes – to make notes.’
While Simo grabbed some writing materials, Cassius returned to the parlour. He doubted the innkeepers would know a lot about the casters, but they were clearly familiar with the great and the good of Tripolis. As he sat down, Neokles placed his wine on the table.
Cassius laid the spearhead next to it. ‘It is best that you know who you are addressing. I am Centurion Cassius Oranius Crispian, currently attached to the governor’s staff of Arabia.’ He thought it best not to mention the Service – partly to protect his anonymity in Tripolis, partly to negate any unpleasant associations his audience might have with ‘grain men’. He had used centurion with Neokles because ‘officer’ would confuse him.
‘I am here on an assignment given to me by Marshal Marcellinus himself. I’m sure it goes without saying that this is all in confidence.’
‘Of course,’ said Theopropides, pushing silver bangles up his chubby arm.
‘Now, if I may, I will read out some names. I am not looking for scandal or secrets, merely some background information. It occurred to me that you gentlemen might be extremely well informed.’
‘Please,’ said another of the guildsmen.
Cassius pushed his chair back a little so that they couldn’t see the list. Simo grabbed himself a stool and sat behind him, ready with writing block, paper and pen.
‘Scribonius Maursus.’
Theopropides took the lead. ‘Local landowner, his main estate is south of the city. Interests in shipping and olive oil.’
‘Three vineyards also,’ said another man.
Simo scribbled the first of his notes.
‘Not particularly concerned with politics,’ added Neokles. ‘His brother represents the family on the city council.’
Cassius nodded appreciatively. He would have liked to ask about the man’s reputation and the very scandals he’d claimed not to be interested in but the guildsmen would instantly clam up. Despite their enthusiasm, he was a visitor and had offered them only a comparatively small favour; the innkeepers would not be impolitic enough to impugn their betters in so open a way.
‘Good, thank you.’ And so it went on. Cassius considered all the information useful but there was nothing of real interest until the sixth name: an individual named Vesnius Isatis. Theopropides offered the basics on his business interests but said nothing more and no one else seemed keen to contribute.
Eventually, Neokles spoke up. ‘You might mention his name to Assistant Procurator Dominicus. He would … know more, I’m sure.’
‘Very well.’
Cassius continued down the list. The guildsmen passed on what they knew. Simo made his notes.
The penultimate name was that of one Numerius Afer. Upon hearing it, Theopropides hesitated, grimaced, then took a sip of wine. One man was about to speak but another held up his hand. Then an argument broke out in Aramaic. Neokles leant close to Cassius and apologised. After a short time, Theopropides silenced the others and continued in Greek.
‘Brothers, it is a matter of public record. The centurion here will learn this and more besides as soon as he
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