The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 Read Free

and covered Indavara. ‘I’ll get you some wine.’
    ‘Strongest we have. By the gods it hurts.’
    Leddicus walked over to Cassius. He had searched the assailants and was holding several lengths of rope, a hood and a gag. Cassius realised why the trio had been armed with clubs instead of swords.
    ‘Clear what they were here for, sir. Any idea who might want to capture you?’
    ‘No.’ Cassius stared down at the rope. ‘Or why.’

I
    ‘You must be Corbulo.’
    Cassius belatedly realised there was a man sitting at a desk on the other side of the office. He was partially obscured by a stack of wooden chests.
    ‘Indeed.’ When he went to greet him, Cassius noted the narrow purple stripe running from the shoulder of his tunic to the waist. ‘Sir.’
    The tribune didn’t get up but they shook forearms.
    ‘Vitalian, Fifteenth Legion. And you’re Abascantius’s man.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Cassius, though he didn’t much care for the description. ‘Do you know where he is?’
    ‘Getting some lunch, I believe.’
    The raised eyebrow was enough; it was in neither of their interests to say much more about the infamous agent known throughout the East as ‘Pitface’.
    Vitalian was about Cassius’s age, possibly a bit older; a slender, thoughtful-looking fellow who was already losing his hair.
    ‘The Fifteenth,’ said Cassius, who’d been taught the dispositions of Rome’s legions by his father before his sixth birthday. ‘Cappadocia. Did you come all that way with the Emperor?’
    Vitalian was sitting on a stool, back against the wall. ‘Every mile.’
    ‘How long before the grand army arrives?’
    ‘Less than a week, they reckon.’ Vitalian nodded down at the papers in front of him. ‘Trying to rustle up some extra horses from the local estates – we’re running very low. Grain too.’ He grinned. ‘Isn’t that supposed to be your job?’
    Agents of the Imperial Security Service were commonly known as ‘grain men’ because the original function of the organisation had been to find provisions for the legions. Being so widely spread and well informed about the provinces, the Service had gradually transformed itself into an intelligence-gathering organisation and expanded the repertoire of missions it carried out for Empire and Emperor. As Cassius had discovered in the last year, they were seldom of the safe variety.
    ‘I wish. Don’t suppose you’d like to swap posts?’
    ‘No thank you,’ said Vitalian. ‘I heard about how you only just got out of that scrape with the tribesmen down south.’
    ‘It will all have been for nothing if a decision isn’t reached soon.’
    ‘The negotiations, you mean?’
    ‘The Tanukh – that’s the tribesmen – have come to the table but they’re not getting what they want. I would hate for it all to—’
    ‘Ah, Corbulo, there you are.’ Abascantius hurried in with a well-stocked plate in one hand and a scroll in the other. He dumped both on his desk by the window, seemingly unconcerned by the half-dozen grapes that rolled on to the floor.
    He walked over to Cassius and gripped his shoulder. ‘Are you all right, then, lad?’
    ‘I was … rather shaken last night, sir, but I’m fine now.’
    ‘Indavara?’
    ‘He took a blow on the jaw and another one to … to a more sensitive area.’
    ‘Ah, well, I’m sure his sausage and beans are as tough as the rest of him.’ Abascantius looked at Vitalian. ‘Give us half an hour, would you, Tribune?’
    ‘Very well.’ Vitalian stood and picked up the pile of papers.
    ‘Plenty of grub in the kitchen,’ added Abascantius. ‘You need feeding up, after all.’
    Vitalian frowned at this but nodded politely to Cassius as he left.
    ‘Officer.’
    ‘Tribune.’
    Abascantius kicked the door shut behind him and returned to his desk. ‘Cannot believe I have to share an office. And there’s some other snivelling wretch arriving tomorrow. Sit down, Corbulo.’
    There was no seat on the opposite side of