Ruso and the Root of All Evils

8

The latest hug turned out to be less enthusiastic than the one from his sister-in-law. When they had clung to each other for what Ruso felt was a decent length of time, they held each other at arms’ length. Ruso politely informed the middle-aged man that he was looking well.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘No, you’re not,’ agreed Ruso, relieved that he had not been the first of them to say it. ‘I got your letter.’

‘Gaius.’ Lucius’ breathing was audible, as if the lungs were weighed down with the bulk of the paunch. ‘This is very bad timing.’

‘I couldn’t get here any faster. I know you had to be careful, but you might have given me some idea of what the problem was.’

Lucius glanced behind him and closed the door. ‘How many people know you’re home?’

‘How long has this legal business been going on?’

Lucius smoothed the top of his thinning hair. ‘We could probably keep it quiet. The staff won’t talk. Did you see anyone you knew on the road?’

Ruso frowned. ‘You didn’t say anything about coming home in secret.’

Lucius subsided on to the chair that Ruso still thought of as belonging to their father. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do now. Not now that you’ve turned up.’

Ruso stared at him. ‘But you’re the one who wrote and asked me to come home!’

The tired eyes that reminded him of his own seemed to be displaying equal bafflement. ‘No, I didn’t. That’s the last thing I would have done.’

Ruso pondered the remote possibility that the letter had said, DO NOT COME HOME. Surely he could not have misread it? Tilla’s views were of no help since Tilla could barely read her own name. But Valens had interpreted it as COME HOME too. ‘It was in your writing.’

Lucius shook his head. ‘The only things I’ve written to you about lately are Cass’s brother being drowned, and Marcia’s wretched dowry.’

‘That’s not the letter I got.’

‘No, you’d probably already left by the time it arrived. Are you sure this COME HOME was addressed to you?’

‘Of course I am! And it looked exactly like your writing. You don’t think I’d travel a thousand miles on crutches because of a letter to somebody else, do you?’

‘I suppose not.’ The tone was reluctant rather than conciliatory.

Ruso sat on the trunk, propped his stick against the wall and scowled as it slid sideways out of reach and clattered on to the floor. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Did you bring this letter with you?’

‘I burned it. So if you didn’t send it, who did?’

‘I’ve no idea. I wish they hadn’t.’

Ruso shrugged. ‘Well, I’m here now.’

‘Yes.’ Lucius cleared his throat. ‘I suppose we’ll have to make the best of it. You’re looking well, anyway. How was Britannia?’

‘Messy. Is it true someone’s trying to bankrupt us?’

Lucius leaned back in their father’s chair and folded his arms. ‘If I were to say no,’ he said, ‘and ask you to go straight back to Deva for the good of the family, would you do it?’

‘I can’t,’ Ruso pointed out. ‘I had to wangle months of leave to get here.’

‘So you can’t go back to the Legion.’ Lucius managed to look even more depressed.

‘Arria says somebody’s applied for a seizure order.’

Lucius let out a long breath. ‘There’s a law somewhere,’ he said, ‘that says you can’t take out a seizure order against someone who’s away from home on public service.’

Ruso began to grasp the nature of the problem. ‘Does that apply to an ordinary man in the Army?’

‘The last thing I would have done, Brother, was to ask you to come home.’

‘So it’s true, then? We have a legal problem?’

‘We do now,’ said Lucius.