Tabula Rasa(127)

“Never mind the wall,” put in Senecio. “Why did that man steal my son?”

“Breathe with me,” came a soft voice from behind the partition. “Breathe with me. You are not going to die. Enica, we need more light here!”

Ruso began, “My wife was right,” and from behind the partition came “Thank you!”

There was a ripple of laughter, but Ruso knew that if he got this answer wrong, then he, Gaius Petreius Ruso, would become the man who had undermined the emperor’s great project for the province of Britannia. He caught Accius’s eye. The scowl was fiercer than usual and Accius mouthed, “No.”

“My wife was right to say that Branan was taken because of the rumor of a body in the wall,” he continued. “Legionary Mallius murdered one of his own comrades, and when he heard that a boy was claiming to have seen someone hiding a body, he panicked.”

“It was hidden in the wall,” put in Conn. “You left that part out.”

“The rumor said it was in the wall,” Ruso agreed. “The rumor also said Branan saw it happen.”

“That was a lie.”

“Exactly. And now we know where listening to gossip leads.”

Albanus was glancing from one to the other of them as though he knew something important was going on but didn’t know what. From behind the partition Ruso heard Tilla asking for a knife. There was something in her voice he did not like. Besides, the knife should sever the cord after the baby was delivered, but there was no sound of a newborn cry: just Virana’s wailing that she was dying, and sobbing and begging someone to make it stop. Several of the women exchanged glances.

Conn said, “So, is it—”

Ruso placed a hand on Albanus’s skinny shoulder. “My friend came many miles to see his nephew being properly and decently laid to rest.”

“So is the body in the wall, or not?”

“Conn, stop it!” Enica emerged from behind the partition. She lowered her voice. “Stop all this talk of death: The child has the cord around its neck!”

“Push!” cried Tilla from behind the screen. “Push again now!” and Virana began to make a ghastly groaning, straining noise something like a cow while Tilla assured her she was doing well and to keep going. Finally their voices died away. There was a long and dreadful silence. Some people looked at the floor. Others looked at Conn. There were whispers from behind the partition. People began to stir and mutter to each other. Senecio had both hands clutched on top of his stick.

The scratchy, angry wail of a newborn was almost immediately drowned out by cheering. Hardly anyone apart from Ruso heard Conn say to his father, “We should have killed that bastard Mallius when we had the chance,” or Senecio’s reply of “The man is hated by them as well as us. One day our people will rise again. Until then we wait. Let them do the dirty work.”





Chapter 76

It was still dark when Tilla woke him and said Albanus was waiting. Ruso mumbled, “What for?”

“You must go up to the wall.”

Even as he said, “Uh?” he remembered. Albanus had bowed to pressure. The Legion had decided they could get away with it, and he was too gentle to insist.

By the time the three of them reached the wall, the night was giving way to a gray morning of murky drizzle. As Ruso hauled himself up the last few paces of the slope, Tilla took him by the arm. He did not have the energy to object. He was surprised and embarrassed by how exhausted he was.

There were two shadowy figures moving about up there. Albanus had told him to expect the tribune. He assumed the other was a guard, but the voice that murmured a quiet greeting was that of Daminius.

Accius handed his cloak to Daminius, dug into a bag Ruso had not noticed resting by the wall, and draped a white toga over his military kit with practiced efficiency. He pulled up a fold to cover his head and shook the metal rattle to frighten away any evil spirits.

It was not the usual sort of funeral speech, but this was no ordinary funeral. It began by swearing all those present to silence in the name of Jupiter, Best and Greatest. Then it continued:

“In light of the fact that, firstly, there is no visible evidence for the location of Candidus, who is presumed dead, and, secondly, the exact spot under suspicion can no longer be identified, it has been decided to hold this ceremony here this morning in the sight of the gods.” He gestured toward the anonymous rows of squared stones. “By tomorrow engraved lettering resembling a centurial building marker will have been created at an appropriate point.”

At least Albanus had got some sort of marker out of them.

“Those of us who can interpret the meaning of the engraving will understand its significance.”