The Kin

  ***

  The quaestor stared balefully at Junius, sitting back and interlinking his fingers. “Yes, I have recently changed my grain supplier, it’s true.” He paused and considered his next words carefully, whilst Junius waited patiently across the desk knowing that the older man would provide the information he required.

  “You must have heard that we’ve had a lot of rain recently?” Junius acknowledged the fact with an almost imperceptible nod. “Well, my usual supplier took advantage of the situation to increase the price of his grain by an exorbitant amount.” The man frowned, clearly still annoyed by this act of greed. “I looked around and found someone else who could give me the same amount for half the price, so naturally I went with the cheaper option. It’s still good quality, I assure you,” he added defensively.

  Finally Junius spoke. “Did you check the grain? We’ve been made aware that in wet climates such as this, it can be susceptible to a certain mould.”

  The quaestor leant forward. “I know about cockspur. Any quaestor in a miserable province such as this knows all about that infestation. Yes, we check for it. I have the slaves dip the grain in brine; you see the infected kernels float to the surface and good ones sink. We do it all the time. The malady infecting the soldiers at Salinae isn’t from the grain, I can assure you of that. The men there are not displaying any stomach problems, no sickness or dysentery, which are usual symptoms of the infection. I don’t believe this is something that the men have digested.”

  Junius knew that he was telling the truth. “You understand that we’d still like to check the grain and your process?”

  The quaestor nodded, smiling. “Naturally, that’s understandable. You’ve come a long way and wish to ensure that you’ve investigated every possibility. Do you want to go now?”

  “Don’t worry, we can find our own way,” Junius replied getting to his feet. The older man frowned, though he officially held the senior position, Junius’s birth gave him more authority and status in Roman society, a fact that his quiet, innate confidence and occasional arrogance reminded people. “If it’s not the cockspur, then what is it, in your opinion?”

  The Roman preened, his good humour restored. He smiled. “I haven’t been there and I’m not a doctor, so I wouldn’t like to speculate. But a fungus with these properties would have been very useful for the worship of the old gods, so it’s not surprising that they know about it and recognise the symptoms.”

  Junius nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve raised a good point. Thank you for your help. I’ll ensure that the Emperor hears of your cooperation.” He turned and left the room, leaving the older man staring after him.