“You don’t trust me!” he said indignantly.
“It’s just that I know you all too well.” I pushed the tent flap aside and went in, suddenly bone-tired. “I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me only for an emergency or if those two return.”
I got out of my armor and boots and lay back on the cot I had abandoned when the summons came to ride into the hills. Even through the haze of fatigue my mind kept turning over the latest bewildering developments. I could not put it out of my mind that Molon and Freda were still two of my suspects in Vinius’s murder. If they thought they were about to be found out, running was the most sensible course they could take. But if they had done it, why the Druidic mumbo-jumbo? And how did it tie in with the three hanged men? If, indeed, the two were tied together at all.
It was the most maddening situation of my by no means uneventful career. Whatever happened to politicians who murdered one another for perfectly sensible, understandable motives? Why did armies and barbarians of several sorts and priests with their disgusting sacrifices have to get involved?
I tossed restlessly, weary to my bones but unable to sleep. I knew that I would have to do something or I would know no rest. In my long experience I knew that, when things reached this awful pass, there was only one action to take. I would have to do something colossally stupid.
I got up, rummaged around until I found a wax tablet, and opened the wooden leaves. With a stylus I scratched my message and called Hermes in.
“Run this over to Lovernius. Tell him to have one of his men deliver it to Captain Carbo at once.” He must have seen something in my face.
“What are you planning?”
“I’m going to go out tonight and maybe get killed. When you get back from your chore you’d better try to get some sleep, too. You’re going with me.”
I dropped back on my cot, suicidally at peace with myself. My mind made up at last, I was asleep as quickly as a lamp is extinguished.
When my eyes opened again, it was dark outside. I felt rested and invigorated, things I rarely feel upon first waking. Then I remembered what it was that I planned to do. It was simple fear that made me so lively. Hermes was on his pallet snoring gently and I prodded him awake. He went out to fetch a basin of water for me.
While he did this, I found my short sword and muffled its sheath with strips of cloth so that the suspension rings wouldn’t rattle. I added my dagger to the harness and belted it all on. I located a pair of civilian sandals and put them on. Not only do hobnails make a lot of noise, but they can strike sparks from stone, visible for great distances on a dark night. I rolled up a hooded cloak and slung it over my shoulder. The night would probably turn very cool and rains were frequent.
When Hermes got back with the basin, I instructed him to fetch his cloak and give his sword the same treatment as mine. “We’re going out on a little reconnaissance,” I told him. He followed my instructions with the sort of excitement that only the young and foolish feel when danger is near. I was just finishing my ablutions when Carbo arrived, accompanied by Ionus to guide us.
“Here he is. Now what sort of lunacy are you planning, Decius?”
“I’m going back to that grove, Gnaeus. I want to look it over in daylight tomorrow.”
“I thought it had to be something that stupid. If you’re going to do it, why not go out with your cavalrymen?”
“What would be the use? It would only make us more visible. I wasn’t joking when I said I would feel safe only with the full legion along for security. Either we’ll remain unseen and be safe, or we’ll be detected and killed. Come on, Hermes.”
We walked toward the Porta Decumana and Hermes tried not to strut, his fingers flexing repeatedly on his sword hilt. He had had several lessons and now accounted himself a master swordsman. At the gate I informed the officer in charge that I was going out on a night mission. His jaw dropped at so outlandish an idea, but he had no authority to stop me.
While we went through this rigmarole I gazed along the top of the wall, noting how the sentries were spaced, wondering how difficult it would be for a pair of determined slaves to get away by scaling the parapet and jumping the palisade. Not difficult at all, I decided. The guards were widely spaced, the nights were dark, and everyone’s attention was on danger from outside, not what was going on behind them. Choose a late hour when the men were groggy, be very quiet, and escape would present very few problems. They were gone. I could no longer fool myself about that. But where?
“When will you return?” Carbo asked.
“We’ll have to stay in the hills while it’s daylight. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll head back. I can’t cover ground like your scouts but we should be back well before sunup the day after tomorrow.”