Semper Fidelis

Chapter 51

“No admission without a gate pass.”

Tilla made another show of hunting through Corinna’s basket as she stood in front of the archway of the east gate. “I am sorry,” she said, scrabbling around under the onions and the wedge of cheese. “It was in here when I went out. I must have dropped it somewhere. What a nuisance.”

“No admission without a gate pass,” repeated the man. He was wearing the blue tunic of the Sixth Legion, so he had arrived only yesterday.

“No, of course,” she agreed. “If you do not know who I am, I will wait while you send a message to the tribune.”

The guard glanced across at his comrades, but they were busy arguing with an old man whose donkey had shed a load of firewood and blocked most of the entrance. He said, “Tribune?”

“Tribune Accius of the Twentieth Legion,” she explained. “Tell him his housekeeper Minna is at the gate and he will have a pass sent down straightaway. If you do not, his dinner will be late.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “You look like a native.”

“I am the tribune’s personal choice,” she assured him, leaving him to decide what that might mean if he annoyed her. The other guards were still busy insulting the old man, whose only hope of clearing up his scattered load any faster was for them to stop complaining and start helping. “You could ask at the Mansio,” she suggested. “Or at Headquarters. Everybody knows Minna.”

The guard pursed his lips, then stepped aside. “Next time, make sure you’ve got your pass.”

She flashed him a smile of thanks that was much more friendly than anything the real Minna would have given him, and strode into the fort past rows of loaded and abandoned vehicles as if she knew where she was going. Nobody challenged her. With all the recent comings and goings, everyone would assume that somebody else knew who she was. It crossed her mind that a Brigante woman intent on mischief might see her chance to set fire to those vehicles. Today she had more important things to think about.

A slave carrying a basket of loaves on his head gave her directions to the hospital. A heavily built clerk told her that Medical Officer Ruso was not available but he would see if the deputy was free. While she waited outside the office, wondering what she was doing in the fort and how she was going to get back out again, an orderly arrived to deliver linen to the room opposite. She caught a glimpse of a pale figure propped up on pillows. She hoped it was Austalis, because as far as she could see, the figure still had both arms. When she found her husband, she must remember to tell him that. It would be a small piece of good news.

A couple of men dragged a creaking basket of soiled linen all the way along the tiled corridor and disappeared around the corner at the far end. A group of Praetorian guards strolled past. They had the loud voices and confident laughter of men who thought they were more important than anyone they might be disturbing. Tilla kept her head down, and if anyone paid her any attention, she was not aware of it.

The clerk had been gone a worryingly long time when a short young man with dark curls appeared and said, “I’m Pera. Were you looking for me?”

There were times when it was necessary for a woman to shut herself in a room with a man who was not her husband, no matter how alarmed that man might look, and this was one of them. When she told him who she was, he looked even more alarmed. She said, “I need to know what has happened to him.”

Pera reached up and rubbed the back of his neck as if it were aching. When he spoke, it was only to confirm her fears.

She said, “Have they hurt him?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me visit. I heard the Praetorian prefect’s taken charge of the investigation.”

“Perhaps he will be fairer than Accius.”

“They’re talking about a trial before the legate in Deva.”

“But he did not do it!”

Before he could reply, the door crashed open. Four legionaries appeared. The one in front demanded, “Name?”

Tilla had been expecting this. She told them who she was, and they marched her away down the corridor. Out in the street, she turned. Pera was standing in the doorway, still watching her.

Accius was looking just as fierce as before, but this time there was no Minna pretending to darn socks in the corner: just the guard at the door, and some sort of secretary with a stylus at the ready.

The tribune’s gaze wandered over her as if he were assessing an animal for breeding or slaughter.

It was no good hoping he would be merciful. She had met ambitious men like Accius before. They were so busy watching every move of the people they were trying to impress that they did not notice who they were trampling on.

Finally he spoke. “Were you both born fools, or has he become one because of you?”

“Sir, I am sorry you have lost a relative. But my husband did not kill him.”

The scowl deepened, as if he was not used to being spoken to frankly by women. “The Medicus has chosen his own fate,” he said. “You need not share it.”

She was careful to keep her voice steady. “What do you advise, sir?”

Accius rose from his chair and advanced toward her. “I advise you to obey me in future.”

The secretary was so still against the wall that he might have been painted on it. Accius was only a pace away now. He reached out one hand and lifted a curl from her ear. His breath smelled of wine. “I have been watching you,” he said. “I am told that you native women will bed any man who takes your fancy, and have no shame.”

Holy mothers, he must have spoken to Sabina! She must stay calm. She must think. He was trying to frighten her. If she gave way, what would it gain her? He was not the one in charge of the investigation, but he could still make trouble for them both. “Sir,” she said, “you were advise-” No, that was wrong. She tried again. “You advised me well before. My duty is to my husband.”

“A man of his rank does not have a wife.”

Before she could stop herself, she said, “And a woman of my rank does not let the army decide who she is married to!”

She waited for the blow to land. You did not challenge a man like this. You appealed to his vanity. “Sir,” she said quickly, “you are an honorable man. I know you will want justice for the death of the centurion.”

He gripped her by the shoulders. “Your husband tried to step over me to get to the emperor.”

She swallowed. “He did not kill Geminus, sir.”

Forcing her back against the wall, he said, “Nobody insults me like that.”

“Sir, he was with the doctors last night, and then he was with me.”

One hand was groping her breast. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“Sir, I beg you-”

But it was not her who made him pause. It was the secretary, tapping on his shoulder. “Sir! Please, sir!”

“What?” snapped Accius.

For a moment Tilla thought the secretary might be a decent man who had chosen to rescue her. But what had saved her was an urgent summons from the emperor. The secretary even asked Accius if they should keep the woman here until he returned.

“Don’t bother. I don’t have time to waste on native whores.”

She took a deep breath. “Sir, I will try to find out who really killed the centurion.”

“What?”

“The local people will not talk to your soldiers, but they talk to me.”

The fierce gaze was leveled straight at her. “Stay out of army business,” he said. “If I catch you near any of my men, you’ll be executed. Guards!” The door opened. “Take her away.”