The Flames of Cyzicus by Nick Brown

Author:Nick Brown [Brown, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00VVN47K4
Published: 2015-04-07T23:00:00+00:00

Flora’s was not an entirely unpleasant place. A dozen patrons occupied chairs and benches: half outside on a reasonably clean terrace, half inside the rather gloomy interior. Despite the lack of light, freshly-laid rushes and some kind of perfume made the odour within tolerable.

Cassius arrived there just after midday and asked at the bar for Stolo. Though he was relieved that no more warehouses had been attacked during the night, what he had discovered over the course of the morning was equally alarming.

The stout serving-woman nodded towards a corner, where three middle-aged men were playing dice. ‘Anything for you, sir?’

‘Not today.’

Cassius had his helmet under his arm. It was too warm for a cloak but he wanted Stolo do be in no doubt that he was addressing an army officer. As he approached the table, the three men looked up from their game.

‘Stolo?’

‘I had a nasty feeling you were looking for me.’

The investigator was a seedy-looking character: rather overweight, with a double chin and veiny cheeks. He had taken his sandals off and was slumped back in his chair.

‘Centurion Corbulo, procurement. I understand you’re investigating these fires?’

‘I am.’

‘May I speak to you in private?’

‘Anything wrong with here?’ Stolo nodded at a spare chair.

Cassius – who had no desire to join the trio - put his helmet down.

When one of his friends picked up the dice, Stolo tutted. ‘Wait for me. Won’t be long.’ He turned back to Cassius. ‘Got my best men on it – ears to the ground. They’ll dig up something soon.’

‘With respect, soon’s not good enough.’

At this, Stolo gave a faint look of disdain and a shake of his head.

The question of seniority was complex. One man was in the army, one an officer of the law. One was young, one was old; one local, one new to the city.

Cassius didn’t particularly care. ‘If we lose another warehouse, I have a serious supply issue on my hands.’

‘You won’t. There was no fire last night. Someone’s out to harm Eusthathios, that’s all. Now they know I’m onto them, they’ll probably leave it at that.’

‘I thought that was the motivation but now I’m not sure. There was a fire last night. At an encampment east of the city.’

Stolo waved a hand at him. ‘That’s not connected - those bloody refugees are always setting fire to themselves. Weren’t even any deaths.’

‘Only because of good luck. Half a dozen tents were incinerated. And that’s not all: apparently someone tried to break into a timber yard only a half-mile from the camp. He was seen by a watchman and fled.’

‘So?’

‘What if it’s the same person? Guards on the warehouses so he tries the timber-yard - foiled there so he fires the encampment.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. Someone with reason to attack the city.’

‘Other refugees? Palmyrans?’

One of Stolo’s friends weighed in. ‘They’re advancing forty miles every week. Could easily have saboteurs here already.’

Cassius made a mental note not to discount that possibility. ‘The point is, it needs looking into. Who knows what he’s going to try next? The basilica? The fortress?’

‘All right, young man, calm yourself.

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