The Emperor's Silver: Agent of Rome 5 by Nick Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

by the full power of the sun. His long-sleeved tunic was of good quality but the sleeves were marked with ink blots.
    ‘Officer Crispian?’
    ‘Yes,’ lied Cassius.
    ‘Lucius Gratus Quentin.’ They shook forearms.
    Quentin shielded his eyes as he inspected the other new arrival. Like Cassius, Indavara was armed with dagger and sword.
    ‘May I see your documentation?’
    ‘Of course.’
    Cassius reached into the deer-hide satchel over his shoulder and took out the letter of introduction. Glycia had written it; Marshal Marcellinus had signed it. Only Abascantius had possessed the presence of mind to suggest that it identified Cassius as ‘the bearer’ instead of by name.
    Quentin read the note and returned it. ‘This is all rather irregular but we must of course do as we are bid. Please, follow me.’
    Quentin went through the narrow archway first. As Cassius followed, one of the legionaries stepped in front of him. ‘You’ll have to leave the weapons here, sir.’
    ‘I’m afraid it’s policy,’ said Quentin. ‘You’ll see that I carry no blade; only the soldiers of the garrison are allowed to do so.’
    ‘You did see the name in that letter? Must I invoke it a second time?’
    ‘Officer Crispian, this is an imperial mint. Security is of the utmost importance.’
    Cassius considered a jibe about the counterfeiting investigation but decided against it.
    He reckoned he could have got his way by scaring the soldiers with a bit more name-dropping but it seemed unlikely he would be at risk here. ‘If you insist.’
    Indavara – who never liked giving up his weapons – sneered as he removed his dagger sheath and sword belt. Cassius did the same and the soldiers took the four weapons.
    Quentin led them across a strip of dusty ground towards the mint, which, like the wall, was constructed of red brick. All the small, circular windows were grilled with iron and well off the ground. Towards the rear were several chimneys, only one of which was issuing smoke. From inside the mint came the noise of clanging hammers and the occasional shout.
    ‘Have you any experience of combating counterfeiting, Officer?’ asked Quentin.
    ‘None at all.’
    Quentin made little attempt to conceal his dismay.
    ‘I am hoping you will be able to educate me,’ added Cassius.
    Waiting outside the broad, arched entrance was a middle-aged man of about fifty in a light blue tunic decorated with yellow lozenges.
    Quentin introduced him. ‘Flavius Arruntius, chief of the mint.’
    ‘Officer Crispian, Imperial Security.’
    ‘Welcome, sir,’ said Arruntius, a large character with rosy cheeks and an amenable face. ‘My staff and I are at your disposal.’
    ‘Many thanks.’
    ‘I thought we might show you one of the workshops first,’ said Quentin, ‘so you can better understand what you are to investigate.’
    ‘That sounds sensible.’
    ‘It will have to be workshop two,’ said Arruntius, ‘the only one functioning at present.’
    ‘Work has slowed down since the first issue,’ explained Quentin. ‘That was mainly for army pay. The rest will be introduced more slowly – payments for civic projects and wages for municipal workers.’
    ‘These counterfeits,’ said Cassius, ‘are they just of the new denarius?’
    ‘As far as we know,’ replied Quentin. He produced a coin from a pocket and showed it to Cassius. ‘You may not have seen many down in Arabia yet but these are being produced and distributed at Siscia, Cyzicus, Serdica, Antioch and here. The aim is for them to eventually become the primary currency for the entire Empire.’
    ‘And now someone is making their own?’
    Quentin exchanged an anxious look with Arruntius. ‘We’ll get to that. Let us first show you how they are made.’
    Cassius gestured towards the arch. ‘Please.’

    Workshop two was divided into several sections. The first was a large room containing four ovens. Despite an open door that led out to a courtyard, the temperature reminded