The Darkness In Between

Chapter I - Easily Bought

D A I

I was only at the market to buy bread. Our last crust had disappeared down my brother's throat this morning, and my mother had been on the verge of despair. She had a feverish baby to soothe and pots to wash and no time to walk across the city, so I had been caught by my collar and sent in her place.

Normally, I wouldn't mind, but the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. The market was at the very edge of the city boundaries, and it was loud enough to make a person wince. Goats brayed in their pens, stallholders called out their wares, and the clatter of shod hooves on cobbles grated on me. But even with all that noise and chaos, I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched.

I wasn't sent here often. The girls were better at this kind of thing, my mother would say. They didn't come back with yesterday's stale crusts. They didn't get distracted by games of dice. And they didn't get into fights with the lads from the docks, who hunted in packs and saw a skinny boy like me as easy pickings. It made me even more determined to do my job properly, so I kept my head down and tried to ignore the knot in my gut.

"Get your blades here!" someone bellowed to my left, close enough to make me jump. "We have it all — eating knives, spatha, longswords. The sharpest in Londinium!"

I touched my belt knife instinctively. It had been my father's originally, handed down once the blade became too blunt and the binding too frayed. His collection of wares spread out beside me were freshly forged and beautiful, but I couldn't afford one. And the merchant knew that. It wasn't me he was shouting at.

I turned to follow his gaze and saw them for the first time — men in armour, standing at the market's edge. One man in a centurion's chest-plate and two auxiliary soldiers stood behind him. There was a clearing around them as traders and buyers gave them a wide berth. The Romans had left our shores, and the centurions had left with them, but that armour still meant something. It meant fear.

I would not have minded their presence — they were two dozen paces away — but they all seemed to be staring in my direction. Even as I watched, the leader turned his head and spoke to the others, without ever taking his eyes off me.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my back on them, even as my heart started to race. I wasn't stealing. I had a brass sestertius clasped in the palm of my hand. Maybe I was mistaken — maybe they were simply looking at the metalsmith and his wares. I plunged deeper into the market crowd, just in case they were looking at me. I was short enough that I would soon disappear from view.

Bread. I was here for bread, and my mother would have my head if I forgot that.

It was the work of a few moments to pick out a loaf, because I didn't truly know what I was looking for. They all looked alike.

"Is this fresh?" I asked.

"Yes, it's fresh, you insolent boy," the merchant snapped. "Are you wanting to pay in coin?"

I held up the sestertius in answer. The merchant tutted and took it from me. He spent a moment eyeing it dubiously, then tucked it away in a belt pouch and handed me back a small copper coin.

I stared at him, waiting for the rest of my change.

"That's all you're getting, lad. Coins aren't worth as much as they used to be," he said dismissively. I made a face at him and took the loaf. My mother would be furious with me, but there was no point haggling with a merchant. The harvest had been poor this year and food was getting scarcer. It was a seller's market. And he was right — few people wanted to take coin these days.

He had noticed my sour expression, and he gave me a dry smile. "Look. It's just the way things are. Come with something to barter next time. You'll get a better price. I accept most things ... but not eggs. I have more chickens than I know what to do with. Although..."