Read Online Anne Barbour by Lady Hilarys Halloween - Free Book Online
Authors: Lady Hilarys Halloween
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duped. Anyone can craft the garb of a legionary, and—”
“Oh, really?” Hilary smiled thinly. “And just who of your acquaintance has the knowledge to do such a thing with such minute, correct detail? Aside from your colleagues, of course, but do you really think Professor Barnstaple or—or Lord Emsbrooke or any of the other members of the Antiquarian Society would lend themselves to such a lark?”
“I can think of one who might,” muttered James, “but I cannot see him spending his valuable time on a mere prank.”
Hilary glanced at him curiously but said nothing.
Since this interchange had been conducted in English, Rufus had turned his attention elsewhere. Moving to one of the bookshelves, he removed a volume and held it gingerly in his hands. He riffled through the pages for a moment before turning an inquiring look toward James.
“It is a book,” said James. “We use them now in the place of parchment scrolls. They are more durable and easier to read.”
“Ah,” said Rufus. “But I cannot read this.”
“You can read?” asked Hilary interestedly.
“Of course, I can read. Do you think me an ignorant barbarian?”
James went to another shelf and plucked a volume from the shelf. “Here, try this.”
He handed the book to Rufus, who examined it carefully.
“Histories”—he read aloud—”by P. Cornelius Tacitus. Mmpfh. Never heard of him.”
“He was Agricola’s son-in-law.” Rufus stared at him blankly. “Julius Agricola.” James’s tone was dry. If the man had never heard the name of one of Britain’s most famous governors, there could be little doubt he was a fraud.
“Yes, of course I know who he is,” retorted Rufus testily. “He was some years before my time, though. I understand he was a good man, but I know nothing of his son-in-law, or his daughter, for that matter.”
“Oh?” James asked quickly. “And what about Agricola’s predecessor?”
Let us now see how much the fellow really knows about first-century Britain.
“Ah well then, I know even less about Julius Frontinius. He brought the Silurians to heel in Wales, and seemed to have a bug up his arse about public works. Never plant a garden when you can put up a building, was his motto. No skin off my nose, of course, except that he set a precedent, and it’s us soldiers who are expected to provide the grunt work. That’s what I was doing in the tower, by the way.”
James and Hilary exchanged glances and James knew a twinge of surprise. Lady Hilary might be young and flighty, but she had an unsettling pair of eyes. They were huge and, he decided, not so much amber as a deep gold, although sometimes they seemed more copper—and they displayed a bright intelligence that, despite himself, he found fascinating. He shook himself and looked away quickly.
To Rufus, he said, “Yes? What about the tower?”
“Construction was started about fifty years ago, before the frontier was secured. It was to be a watchtower—being right on the Via Martius—with a small fort attached. For some reason it was never completed, but it was never dismantled. So, now, what with Corinium developing into a major city—maybe a colonia some day—Quietus—he’s the present governor—Avidius Quietus— came in a year ago—apparently decided a theater would be nice— I hear he’s something of an intellectual, and ordered that the stones from the old tower should be brought to Corinium for that purpose.
“I was among a small detail sent to do the job. And a back-breaker it was, too.”
“I thought you were an armorer,” interposed Hilary.
“Well and I am, and a good one. I was sent along to Corinium to service the troops there, but, as I said, the detachment is a small one, and there’s been little tribal activity for years, so there is not much need for my skills, at least for the moment. I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately, and got volunteered for the job.” He grunted disgustedly.
“Oh, really?” Hilary smiled thinly. “And just who of your acquaintance has the knowledge to do such a thing with such minute, correct detail? Aside from your colleagues, of course, but do you really think Professor Barnstaple or—or Lord Emsbrooke or any of the other members of the Antiquarian Society would lend themselves to such a lark?”
“I can think of one who might,” muttered James, “but I cannot see him spending his valuable time on a mere prank.”
Hilary glanced at him curiously but said nothing.
Since this interchange had been conducted in English, Rufus had turned his attention elsewhere. Moving to one of the bookshelves, he removed a volume and held it gingerly in his hands. He riffled through the pages for a moment before turning an inquiring look toward James.
“It is a book,” said James. “We use them now in the place of parchment scrolls. They are more durable and easier to read.”
“Ah,” said Rufus. “But I cannot read this.”
“You can read?” asked Hilary interestedly.
“Of course, I can read. Do you think me an ignorant barbarian?”
James went to another shelf and plucked a volume from the shelf. “Here, try this.”
He handed the book to Rufus, who examined it carefully.
“Histories”—he read aloud—”by P. Cornelius Tacitus. Mmpfh. Never heard of him.”
“He was Agricola’s son-in-law.” Rufus stared at him blankly. “Julius Agricola.” James’s tone was dry. If the man had never heard the name of one of Britain’s most famous governors, there could be little doubt he was a fraud.
“Yes, of course I know who he is,” retorted Rufus testily. “He was some years before my time, though. I understand he was a good man, but I know nothing of his son-in-law, or his daughter, for that matter.”
“Oh?” James asked quickly. “And what about Agricola’s predecessor?”
Let us now see how much the fellow really knows about first-century Britain.
“Ah well then, I know even less about Julius Frontinius. He brought the Silurians to heel in Wales, and seemed to have a bug up his arse about public works. Never plant a garden when you can put up a building, was his motto. No skin off my nose, of course, except that he set a precedent, and it’s us soldiers who are expected to provide the grunt work. That’s what I was doing in the tower, by the way.”
James and Hilary exchanged glances and James knew a twinge of surprise. Lady Hilary might be young and flighty, but she had an unsettling pair of eyes. They were huge and, he decided, not so much amber as a deep gold, although sometimes they seemed more copper—and they displayed a bright intelligence that, despite himself, he found fascinating. He shook himself and looked away quickly.
To Rufus, he said, “Yes? What about the tower?”
“Construction was started about fifty years ago, before the frontier was secured. It was to be a watchtower—being right on the Via Martius—with a small fort attached. For some reason it was never completed, but it was never dismantled. So, now, what with Corinium developing into a major city—maybe a colonia some day—Quietus—he’s the present governor—Avidius Quietus— came in a year ago—apparently decided a theater would be nice— I hear he’s something of an intellectual, and ordered that the stones from the old tower should be brought to Corinium for that purpose.
“I was among a small detail sent to do the job. And a back-breaker it was, too.”
“I thought you were an armorer,” interposed Hilary.
“Well and I am, and a good one. I was sent along to Corinium to service the troops there, but, as I said, the detachment is a small one, and there’s been little tribal activity for years, so there is not much need for my skills, at least for the moment. I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately, and got volunteered for the job.” He grunted disgustedly.
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