Empress & Soldier, Chapter 16 part 1
In which Druisius doesn't sleep.
“DO YOU GO OVER THE RIVER?” I make the question seem idle. I buckle my belt, find coins for the man on the bed. He is not young, but in dim light a client could pretend he is. Fine boned, slight. Pretty, if you do not look too closely.
“No,” he says. “I have enough work here.” I think not, from the tiny cubicle he brought me to. I think here he knows where to find the juice of poppy, whatever other drugs he uses. I bought his hands and mouth, nothing more. He will spend his coins at an unscrupulous apothecary, not for the doctor all scraptae are supposed to see monthly.
“I saw your name on a wall there.”
“Did you? Is that why you sought me out?” He looks pleased. “My reputation spreads.”
“Unless there are others called the same.” I smile to soften the words.
His expression changes. “I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Seuthe is considered unlucky,” he admits. “But I suppose you wouldn’t know that, being Casilani.”
“Tell me.”
“Long ago, when Casil first invaded, he led the fight against them. But he lost, badly. So no one names their sons Seuthe now.”
“Except your mother, yes?” I say. To say something, while my mind fits pieces together.
“She was so stupid, she probably thought he was a hero,” he says. He smiles up at me. “Will I see you again? I like you.” He runs a hand down my arm. “Like your skin. So dark.”
“Maybe,” I say. He will not see me when I cut his throat from behind. Before he tells someone of a dark-skinned Casilani asking questions. I am far from the only one whose family came from across the Nivéan sea, but better to be careful. If he does what I expect when I leave, I will let him have his poppy. Let him seek its forgetting, before oblivion comes forever.
~
At the river I clean blood from my hands and knife. Along its banks others wash too. I will not be noticed. I rub my hands dry on my leggings, sheathe the knife. Shiver in the dawn cold. Blow on my hands to warm them. On our side of the bridge a guard calls an obscene comment on my early arrival. I grin, shout back.
At a food stall I buy warm bread from the yawning girl. Wash it down with water, the fountain’s cup cold. Then I go to find the guard captain.
Together we wait for Tarquin. When he opens the door to us his lieutenant is with him. He and Neratus listen.
“A credible threat,” Neratus says. Tarquin nods, makes a pyramid of his fingers.
“What are the plans?”
The guard captain explains. Asks for soldiers to support. The lieutenant suggests our men stand as an honour guard, lining the routes. But ready to act. The city guard can patrol the lesser streets, the places a mob might gather. It is a good plan. I see it. So does Tarquin.
“A few soldiers to carry information, yes?” I say. “Back and forth.”
“Yes,” Tarquin says. “Can you work with this?” he asks the guard captain.
“If I may,” the man says, “what assignment will Druisius have?” I have been wondering the same. Would have asked Tarquin privately.
Tarquin’s eyes flicker. Towards his lieutenant. “We can discuss that in a minute.” To Neratus he says, “Go prepare to ride. The royal party must be made aware of the possible threat, and our response. You can intercept the boat. I will have a letter ready for you in an hour.”
The lieutenant salutes, leaves. “What assignment should Druisius have?” Tarquin asks. The guard captain’s eyes slide to me, away again.
“The sergeant might be best used on patrol? Not as part of the street guard?”
“Captain,” I say. “I agree.” A mob is not the only threat.
“Then do it,” Tarquin says. “Good work, Captain. Druisius is your liaison, and the lieutenant when he returns. But now I need a private word with my sergeant.”
When the guard captain is gone he gestures for me to sit. “Your source across the river?”
“Dead.”
He nods, impassive. Almost. “He would not have been useful alive?”
I shake my head. “He could not be trusted. All that mattered to him was the juice of poppy. I hastened what was waiting for him, yes?”
“I suppose.” He studies me. “When was the last time you played your cithar?”
Why is he asking this? I shrug. “The last time you asked me to.”
“Is that why you play? Another service for your officer?”
“That is why Marcellus taught me. So I could play for him.” I take care of the cithar, oil the wood. Play a little to keep the strings supple. But here, where there are no campfires with the men, when else would I play?
I cannot read what I see on Tarquin’s face. Or I do not understand it. Disappointment? Quickly hidden, dismissed. As am I. I stand, suddenly aware I have not slept. But I have work to do. I will go to the baths, eat a bit more. Then I will walk the streets again, now I know my assignment.
~
Both the general and the prince commend our attentiveness, and are unworried. So the lieutenant reports. Roscius brought a guard from Casil, of course. He is confident of their own safety.
No new graffiti appears, not of importance. The night patrol has been doubled. They report nothing. Across the river, the Trakïyani king is camped outside the town, no appropriate house to be commandeered. He will cross only after Roscius and the governor have arrived, even though they will share the consul’s house. Their guard too is doubled, and report nothing.
Am I wrong? Maybe. But I know how soldiers grumble. With resignation, or amusement. Not what I hear in voices in the tabernae across the river. I say this to the lieutenant. Tarquin is too busy. Preoccupied. More than that, I think. It worries me.
Neratus listens. “You have good instincts,” he says. “I met with the captain of King Teris’s personal guard yesterday. The king has not been disturbed by the deaths of those who counsel violence against us.”
“But he did not take care of it himself,” I say. “So if the tide turns, the blame is ours, yes?”
“Not provable.” He eyes me. “I trust?”
“I am across the river many nights,” I tell him. “No pattern.”
He nods. “How you get by on so little sleep, I have no idea. You work at least two full shifts a day. Without mistakes.”
Four, maybe five hours asleep. Naps here and there, a few minutes at most. Since I was old enough to find the night interesting. “I get what I need,” I say.
“And get us what we need,” he says with a smile. “I see no reason to change our plans. Keep me informed, Sergeant.”
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