Lest Darkness Fall (24 page)

            "That seems hardly
likely, after this fiasco. By the way, if I may ask, just what are you? I hear
you called Mysterious Martinus! You're no Goth, nor yet an Italian, by your
speech."

            Padway gave his impressively
vague formula about America.

            "Really? They must be a
people skilled in war, these Americans. I knew when the fight started that I
wasn't dealing with any barbarian commander. The timing was much too good,
especially on that cavalry charge. Phew! I can still smell that damnable
sulphur!"

            Padway saw no point in
explaining that his previous military experience consisted of one year of
R.O.T.C. in a Chicago high school. He asked: "How would you like the idea
of coming over to our side? We need a good general, and as Thiudahad's quaestor
I'll have my hands full otherwise."

            Belisarius frowned.
"No, I swore an oath to Justinian."

            "So you did. But as
you'll probably hear, I can sometimes see a little into the future. And I can
tell you that the more faithful you are to Justinian, the meaner and more
ungrateful he'll be to you. He'll —"

            "I said no!" said
Belisarius sternly. "You can do what you like with me. But the word of
Belisarius is not to be questioned."

            Padway argued some more.
But, remembering his Procopius, he had little hope of shaking the Thracian's
stern rectitude. Belisarius was a fine fellow, but his rigid virtue made him a
slightly uncomfortable companion. He asked: "Where's your secretary,
Procopius of Caesarea?"

            "I don't know. He was
in southern Italy, and supposedly on his way to join us."

            "Good. We'll gather him
in. We shall need a competent historian."

            Belisarius' eyes widened.
"How do you know about the histories he's collecting notes for? I thought
he'd told nobody but me."

            "Oh, I have ways.
That's why they call me Mysterious Martinus."

            They marched into Rome by
the Latin Gate, north past the Circus Maximus and the Colosseum, and up the
Quirinal Valley to the Old Viminal Gate and the Pretorian Camp.

            Here Padway gave orders to
encamp the prisoners, and told Gudareths to set a guard over them.

            That was obvious enough.
Then he found himself in the midst of a crowd of officers looking at him
expectantly. He could not think what orders to give next.

            He rubbed his ear lobe for a
few seconds, then took the captive Belisarius aside, "Say, illustrious
general," he said in a low voice, "what in hell do I do next? This
military business isn't my proper trade."

            There was a hint of
amusement in Belisarius' broad and usually solemn face. He answered: "Call
out your paymaster and have him pay the men's wages. Better give them a little
bonus for winning the battle. Detail an officer to round up some physicians to
tend the wounded; at least I don't suppose a barbarian army like this has its
own medical corps. There ought to be a man whose duty it is to check the rolls.
Find out about it. I hear the commander of the Rome garrison was killed.
Appoint a man in his place, and have the garrison returned to barracks. Tell
the commanders of the other contingents to find what lodging they can for their
men. If they have to board at private houses, say the owners will he
compensated at standard rates. You can find those out later. But first you
ought to make a speech."

            "
Me
make a
speech?" hissed Padway in horror. "My Gothic is lousy —"

            "That's part of the
business, you know. Tell them what fine soldiers they are. Make it short. They
won't listen very closely anyway."

-

            AFTER SOME SEARCHING Padway
located Thiudahad in the Ulpian Library. The little man was barricaded behind a
huge pile of books. Four bodyguards sprawled on a table, a bench, and the
floor, snoring thunderously. The librarian was glaring at them with a look
compounded of hydrofluoric acid and cobra venom, but did not dare protest.

            Thiudahad looked up
blearily. "Oh, yes, it's the publisher chap. Martinus, isn't it?"

            "That's right, my lord.
I might add that I'm your new quaestor."

            "What? What? Who told
you so?"

            "You did. You appointed
me."

            "Oh, dear me, so I did.
Silly of me. When I get engrossed in books I really don't know what's going on.
Let's see, you and Liuderis were going to fight the Imperialists, weren't
you?"

            "
Hoc ille
, my
lord. It's all over."

            "Really? I suppose you
sold out to Belisarius, didn't you? I hope you arranged for an estate and an
annuity from Justinian for me."

            "It wasn't necessary,
my lord. We won."

            "What?"

            Padway gave a resume of the
last three days' events. "And you'd better get to bed early tonight, my
lord. We're leaving in the morning for Florence,"

            "Florence? Why, in
heaven's name?"

            "We're on our way to
intercept your generals, Asinar and Grippas. They're coming back from Dalmatia,
having been scared out by the Imperial general, Constantianus. If we can catch
them before they get to Ravenna and learn about Wittigis, we might be able to
get your crown back."

            Thiudahad sighed. "Yes,
I suppose we ought to. But how did you know that Asinar and Grippas were coming
home?"

            "Trade secret, my lord.
I've also sent a force of two thousand to re-occupy Naples. It's held by
General Herodianus with a mere three hundred, so there shouldn't be much
trouble."

            Thiudahad narrowed his
watery eyes. "You do get things done, Martinus. If you can deliver that
vile usurper Wittigis into my hands —
aaah!
I'll send clear to
Constantinople for a torturer, if I can't find one ingenious enough in
Italy!"

            Padway did not answer that
one, having his own plans for Wittigis. He said instead: "I have a
pleasant surprise for you. The pay chests of the Imperial army —"

            "Yes?" Thiudahad's
eyes gleamed. "They're mine, of course. Very considerate of you, excellent
Martinus."

            "Well, I did have to
dip into them a little to pay our troops and clear up the army's bills. But
you'll find the rest an agreeable addition to the royal purse. I'll be waiting
for you at home."

            Padway neglected to state
that he had sequestered over half the remainder and deposited the money with
Thomasus. Who owns the pay chests of a captured army, especially when the
captor is a volunteer theoretically serving one of two rival kings, was a
question that the legal science of the time was hardly equipped to decide. In
any event Padway was sure he could make better use of the money than Thiudahad.
I'm becoming quite a hardened criminal, he thought with pride.

            Padway rode up to Cornelius
Anicius' home. Its rhetorical owner was out at the baths, but Dorothea came
out. Padway had to admit that it made him feel pretty good to sit on a powerful
horse in a (to him) romantic get-up, with cloak and boots and all, and report
to one of the prettier girls of Rome on his success.

            She said: "You know,
Martinus, father was silly at first about your social standing. But after all
you've done he's forgotten about that. Of course he is not enthusiastic about
Gothic rule. But he much prefers Thiudahad, who is a scholar, to that savage
Wittigis."

            "I'm glad of that. I
like your old man."

            "Everybody's talking
about you now. They call you 'Mysterious Martinus'."

            "I know. Absurd, isn't
it?"

            "Yes. You never seemed
very mysterious to me, in spite of your foreign background."

            "That's great. You're
not afraid of me, are you?"

            "Not in the least. If
you made a deal with Satanas as some people hint, I'm sure the Devil got the
worst of it." They laughed. She added: "It's nearly dinner time.
Won't you stay? Father will be back any time."

            "I'm sorry, but I can't
possibly. We're off to the wars again tomorrow."

            As he rode off, he thought:
If I
should change
my mind about the expediency of marriage, I'd know
where to begin. She's attractive and pleasant, and has what passes for a good
education here ...

-

            Padway made one more attempt
to shake Belisarius, but without success. He did, however, enlist five hundred
of the Imperial cuirassiers as a personal guard. His share of the Imperialist
loot would suffice to pay them for some weeks. After that he'd see.

            The trip to Florence was
anything but pleasant. It rained most of the way, with intermittent snow
squalls as they climbed toward the City of Flowers. Being in a hurry, Padway
took only cavalry.

            In Florence he sent his
officers around to buy warmer clothes for the troops, and looked in on his
business. It seemed to be thriving, though Fritharik said: "I don't trust
any of them, excellent boss. I'm sure the foreman and this George Menandrus have
been stealing, though I can't prove it. I don't understand all this writing and
figuring. If you leave them alone long enough they'll steal everything, and
then where'll we be? Out in the cold, headed for a pair of nameless
graves."

            "We'll see," said
Padway. He called in the treasurer, Proclus Proclus, and asked to see the
books. Proclus Proclus instantly looked apprehensive, but he got the books.
Padway plunged into the figures. They were all nice and neat, since he himself
had taught the treasurer double-entry bookkeeping. And his employees were
astounded to hear Padway burst into a shout of laughter.

            "What ... what is it,
noble sir?" asked Proclus Proclus.

            "Why, you poor fool,
didn't you realize that with my system of bookkeeping, your little thefts would
stick up in the accounts like a sore toe? Look here: thirty solidi last month,
and nine solidi and some sesterces only last week. You might just as well have
left a signed receipt every time you stole something!"

            "What... what are you
going to do to me?"

            "Well — I
ought
to have you jailed and flogged." Padway sat silent for a while and watched
Proclus Proclus squirm. "But I hate to have your family suffer. And I
certainly oughtn't to keep you on, after this. But I'm pretty busy, and I can't
take the time to train a new treasurer to keep books in a civilized manner. So
I'll just take a third of your salary until these little borrowings of yours
are paid back."

            "Thank you, thank you
kindly, sir. But just to be fair — George Menandrus ought to pay a share of it,
too. He —"

            "Liar!" shouted
the editor.

            "Liar yourself! Look, I
can prove it. Here's an item for one solidus, November 10th. And on November
11th George shows up with a pair of new shoes and a bracelet. I know where he
bought them. On the 15th —"

            "How about it,
George?" asked Padway.

            Menandrus finally confessed,
though he insisted that the thefts were merely temporary borrowings to tide him
over until pay day.