deities in his reconquering of the East. Assurances have been made that it is in no way to suggest a supplanting of the great gods.’
‘But these are being produced across the Empire?’ said Cassius.
‘Well, yes.’
‘ His coins,’ said Arruntius with a shrug. ‘ His design.’
He put the reverse die on the anvil and the blank coin on top. He then flipped the obverse die over and placed it on top of the blank. Holding the tower steady, he turned to the others.
Indavara looked confused. ‘How do you get the …’
Arruntius gestured at the floor. Lying next to the table was a large hammer. ‘Sheer brute force. We seem to be in need of a labourer, my friend.’ He smiled at Indavara. ‘The men who work in this section tend to look a bit like you.’
‘You mean I can …’
‘Please.’
Indavara picked up the hammer.
‘Try and bring the head down as straight as you can,’ said Arruntius. ‘And preferably not on my fingers. You needn’t try too hard. The weight will do the work.’
Despite this advice, Indavara couldn’t resist giving it a good thump. After the impact, the tower fell on to the anvil with a clang.
Arruntius plucked the newly minted coin off the reverse die and handed it to the bodyguard. ‘Here. It’s yours.’
‘Really?’
‘Why not? You made it.’
Indavara looked down at the design now imprinted in the metal and grinned.
‘Easy, eh?’ said Cassius.
‘Not if you have to do it all day,’ said Arruntius. ‘We expect an experienced pair to knock out a hundred an hour.’
Cassius looked around the room. Against the wall were racks of tools and amphoras of varying sizes and designs. ‘So that’s it?’
‘Not quite.’ Arruntius pointed past a guard towards another doorway. ‘In the fourth section we weigh them again and give them a good polish. From there it’s to the counting room, then the store at the rear.’
Quentin was looking impatient.
‘Shall we move on to the issue at hand?’ suggested Cassius.
‘We can meet in my office – Arruntius has kindly put aside some space for me.’
‘I’ll have a maid come along with some refreshments,’ said their host, hurrying away back through the workshop.
‘Thank you,’ said Quentin as he led Cassius in the opposite direction.
Indavara was still looking at his coin. ‘I can really keep this?’
IV
The ‘office’ was in fact half of a large storeroom. It was considerably cooler than the rest of the mint, with air admitted through a dozen of the high circular windows and illumination via a square glassed skylight. The other half of the room was mostly shelves stacked with scroll-racks, waxed tablets and iron tools. Quentin had set himself up on a work table and was clearly a well-organised individual. Next to a framed map of the eastern provinces were several orderly piles of paper and a selection of labelled coins mounted on a board of cork.
As Cassius and Quentin sat on opposite sides of the table, Indavara took himself over to a nearby bench and lay down on his back. Quentin seemed bemused by this but said nothing.
‘How long have you been in Tripolis?’ asked Cassius.
‘I was sent here originally in the spring to help set up the mint. The building was here but everything you see inside is new. When this … issue raised its head I was asked to stay on and coordinate an investigation.’
‘Do you have anyone else to help you?’
‘Two clerks. They’re out gathering information as we speak.’
‘Marshal Marcellinus seemed to suggest that not much progress has been made. Is that fair?’
Quentin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Perhaps if I start at the beginning?’
‘Of course.’
Cassius had put his satchel on the desk. He reached inside and took out a stick of charcoal to make notes with. ‘Do you have some paper?’
Quentin pointed at a pile of blank sheets. Just as Cassius took one, a maid hurried in with a tray. He was disappointed to see that she was middle aged and
‘But these are being produced across the Empire?’ said Cassius.
‘Well, yes.’
‘ His coins,’ said Arruntius with a shrug. ‘ His design.’
He put the reverse die on the anvil and the blank coin on top. He then flipped the obverse die over and placed it on top of the blank. Holding the tower steady, he turned to the others.
Indavara looked confused. ‘How do you get the …’
Arruntius gestured at the floor. Lying next to the table was a large hammer. ‘Sheer brute force. We seem to be in need of a labourer, my friend.’ He smiled at Indavara. ‘The men who work in this section tend to look a bit like you.’
‘You mean I can …’
‘Please.’
Indavara picked up the hammer.
‘Try and bring the head down as straight as you can,’ said Arruntius. ‘And preferably not on my fingers. You needn’t try too hard. The weight will do the work.’
Despite this advice, Indavara couldn’t resist giving it a good thump. After the impact, the tower fell on to the anvil with a clang.
Arruntius plucked the newly minted coin off the reverse die and handed it to the bodyguard. ‘Here. It’s yours.’
‘Really?’
‘Why not? You made it.’
Indavara looked down at the design now imprinted in the metal and grinned.
‘Easy, eh?’ said Cassius.
‘Not if you have to do it all day,’ said Arruntius. ‘We expect an experienced pair to knock out a hundred an hour.’
Cassius looked around the room. Against the wall were racks of tools and amphoras of varying sizes and designs. ‘So that’s it?’
‘Not quite.’ Arruntius pointed past a guard towards another doorway. ‘In the fourth section we weigh them again and give them a good polish. From there it’s to the counting room, then the store at the rear.’
Quentin was looking impatient.
‘Shall we move on to the issue at hand?’ suggested Cassius.
‘We can meet in my office – Arruntius has kindly put aside some space for me.’
‘I’ll have a maid come along with some refreshments,’ said their host, hurrying away back through the workshop.
‘Thank you,’ said Quentin as he led Cassius in the opposite direction.
Indavara was still looking at his coin. ‘I can really keep this?’
IV
The ‘office’ was in fact half of a large storeroom. It was considerably cooler than the rest of the mint, with air admitted through a dozen of the high circular windows and illumination via a square glassed skylight. The other half of the room was mostly shelves stacked with scroll-racks, waxed tablets and iron tools. Quentin had set himself up on a work table and was clearly a well-organised individual. Next to a framed map of the eastern provinces were several orderly piles of paper and a selection of labelled coins mounted on a board of cork.
As Cassius and Quentin sat on opposite sides of the table, Indavara took himself over to a nearby bench and lay down on his back. Quentin seemed bemused by this but said nothing.
‘How long have you been in Tripolis?’ asked Cassius.
‘I was sent here originally in the spring to help set up the mint. The building was here but everything you see inside is new. When this … issue raised its head I was asked to stay on and coordinate an investigation.’
‘Do you have anyone else to help you?’
‘Two clerks. They’re out gathering information as we speak.’
‘Marshal Marcellinus seemed to suggest that not much progress has been made. Is that fair?’
Quentin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Perhaps if I start at the beginning?’
‘Of course.’
Cassius had put his satchel on the desk. He reached inside and took out a stick of charcoal to make notes with. ‘Do you have some paper?’
Quentin pointed at a pile of blank sheets. Just as Cassius took one, a maid hurried in with a tray. He was disappointed to see that she was middle aged and
Similar Books
