Free Shadows in the Night by Jane Finnis Page B

It did get a bit dark in the afternoon, but that’s hardly a novelty in Britannia in August. Did you see it yourself?”
    “No, I didn’t.” Suddenly he smiled. “It was cloudy with us too. Perhaps it was cloudy all over Brigantia, so the natives wouldn’t have seen it.”
    “But what’s the difference if they did see it?” It seemed no great matter to me, but he was getting excited enough for both of us.
    “Because they’ll think it was a sign from their gods, or the Druids will tell them it was. I was supposed to be watching their reaction….And now I don’t know what to do for the best. I’m helpless here. I must get up. I must ….Help me up, please.”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.
    “Just do it!” he barked. “I’ve got to try. If I could get to Eburacum today, perhaps I could make a difference.”
    He sat up slowly, then he gritted his teeth and swung his legs out of bed. He put his arm across my shoulders to steady himself, and I supported him as best I could, though he was clumsy and heavy. He managed to stand on his feet for about five heartbeats; then he gave a little moan, put both hands to his head, and fell backwards. I stopped him sliding to the floor, and got him back into bed. He was unconscious again.
    I went in search of Albia, and found her in the kitchen organising breakfast. “Holy Diana, Relia, you look as sick as Cousin Quintus! Is he any better?”
    “He woke up for a short while, but he’s passed out again. He was fretting about some eclipse of the sun that happened two days ago. Only we missed it.”
    “Yes, Junius was telling me about it. Shame it was cloudy. Junius says it would have been quite dramatic. He knows all about the stars.” She smiled fondly. Gods, I thought, she’s really got it badly for that young man. Oh well, she’s a big girl now.
    She helped me change Quintus’ blankets, and dress him in a fresh tunic. He didn’t stir, and his breathing was still uneven and noisy. I found Baca and told her to take up sick-room watching again for the morning. The pile of mending in the sewing basket was going down nicely.
    I went and unbarred the main door. No golden dawn today, and no inert body on the forecourt either; just a mist with a clammy drizzle in it, and under the oak-tree the comforting, bulky figure of Taurus on watch.
    “’Morning, Taurus,” I called. “All well?”
    “All fine, Mistress.” He shook his wet cloak as he came towards me. “Nothing and nobody stirring anywhere.”
    He was right, there wasn’t a single person or vehicle on the main road. It wasn’t a market day, so there’d be much less early traffic. The first two couriers came through just after breakfast, heading for the coast. Unusually they were riding together instead of racing each other for a bet, which is the normal messengers’ game. We soon discovered why: there had been two more murders overnight.
    A headless body had been found in the forum before first light; another, headless also, had been discovered outside town on the road near Silvanius’ new villa. Both carried bone discs with their sinister message.
    “Get out or die….You know yesterday,” I said to Albia, “that was just a wild threat, unpleasant but not seriously believable. Now it starts to feel real.”
    “I know.” Her usually cheerful face looked grim. “Are we going to wake up every morning to find more and more of our people killed?”
    “I wish I could answer no, but…it’s scary.”
    “Yes, it is. But whoever the bastards are, Relia, they’re not getting me out. I belong here, and I’m staying.”
    “So am I. Father brought us here to give us a chance of a good life, a stake in a new province. We’ve worked hard for those things. We’re not giving them up. We’re Romans, and Romans can’t be frightened off by a pack of barbarians.”
    Brave words, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The next traveller to come by with news, a wagoner, told us both the victims had