Sulpicius Rufus was sitting behind his desk when Celer introduced Junius. The older man looked up and peered myopically, then nodded and waved his hand to grant entry. Junius studied the general carefully. He had a reputation as a good commander and a skilled strategist, but he was known for his volatile temper and brusque manner. Rufus was younger than he’d imagined, with thick grey hair, which seemed to have a life of its own, and watery blue eyes, which were scrutinizing him now.
“Your father is Junius Silanus, ex-consul and adviser to the Emperor?” Junius nodded. The general considered. “I’m told that you’ll continue to keep your family in the echelons of power, a rising star in the army and an influential political career whenever you choose to begin it.” Junius remained silent, understanding that he wasn’t required to speak yet. “Now a praetorian, eh? Hadrian keeping you close? He’s always been fond of pretty, capable boys.” He studied Junius, then seemed to make up his mind. “Well, good luck to you. I heard you earned your keep in Parthia.”
Junius waited until he was sure that the general had finished. “I was recalled to Rome and offered tribune of the guard. It was an honour I couldn’t refuse. I hope to return to Syria when this investigation is over.”
Sulpicius Rufus nodded. “A soldier forced to do an administrator’s job. Unfortunately the path to power isn’t always heroic and noble, as you’re finding out. So you’ve been sent to find out more about our problem with mushrooms?”
“Yes, sir, I have. Do you wish to see the seal?”
Rufus waved his hand. “It’s not necessary and, quite frankly, I’m surprised that Hadrian is so worried. I told him already that it’s all under control.”
“That’s good to hear, sir. May I know the details, so that I can make a full report, and of course I’ll need to go to Salinae to see for myself? You understand, this is what the Emperor will expect, especially after the difficulties in the province?”
“Sit down, Junius,” the general told him and reached for the watered wine that stood on the desk. He poured two cups, then frowned at the young Roman.
“I know that you didn’t come all this way simply to turn around and go home again. But I’m sure the Emperor has more important things to worry about than some minor issues in Dacia.”
Junius knew that the man was searching for more information and some indication of what the new Emperor’s policy would be regarding this newly won region of the Empire. Would he continue Trajan’s aggressive stance and try to annex even more land? Maybe he would consolidate what had been acquired, or even possibly withdraw from the more troublesome areas. The reign was still young and no firm policy had been forthcoming from Rome.
The general spoke again when he realised that Junius wouldn’t provide any more information. “King Decebelus of the Roxolani is giving us some trouble, but not in this area. In fact, since we’ve had the infestation the local tribes have been quiet and all but disappeared. We can’t find any evidence of them.
“My informants tell me that this fungus is well known and used to cause issues before, but the mining disturbed it. Now the pit at Salinae’s closed, the mould is free to grow unhindered, which is why it’s causing problems for the first time since we annexed this land.”
“Have you evacuated the fort?” Junius asked.
Rufus shook his head. “It’s on the road between here and Potaissa where the fifth Macedonia are based. If we evacuated, the tribes would be back straight away and our forts to the north completely cut off.”
Junius was confused; he’d had the same conversation with the governor Calpurnius. “But you said the Roxolani had disappeared?”
Rufus took a swig of wine, and slammed the cup down onto the desk. “They’d return, and possibly with the Lazyges who live to the west. It would be too good an opportunity for them to resist. Besides, we’ve hardly lost any men, fewer than we would if were constantly fighting them.”
“How many men have you lost?” Junius asked, remembering the number said to him by Calpurnius.
Rufus peered at him, considering the question and stroking his chin as he did so. “Let me see, um… at the last count. About fifteen have killed themselves through various methods, and another twenty have disappeared, either whilst on patrol or run from the fort whilst being treated for their ailments. Others have made a full recovery.”
Junius sipped the wine, using the moment to take in the information. “Have you been there yourself?”
The general shook his head. “No, and neither have my officers. I’ve sent some good men up there to look around and they’ve returned and assured me that all is running as it should be, but whilst the fungus is active, patrols and duties are taking place at night when the mushroom closes up. It’s like a flower, apparently.”
Junius frowned. “Have they seen it then?”
“No, but some of the men have. The ones who’ve recovered have told us how they were infected.”
“So why don’t they destroy it and stop it sending out its spores?”
Rufus shook his head. “I don’t know, but I would imagine that they were too scared in case it released more.”
Junius nodded; yes, he could understand their reluctance. “Sir, how long has this been going on? We’ve been travelling for seventeen days and it had already been a problem for some time when we were sent. How much longer do they expect this mushroom to be a problem?”
“It’s almost two months since the first men went sick. As I said, it’s all under control now and we’ve had no new cases for a few days. So I would imagine that the worst is over.”
Junius put his cup on the desk. “Have you had anyone taken ill here?” he asked.
Rufus nodded. “We’ve had a few cases in the vicus and we’ve three men in the hospital now with the initial symptoms.”
“Which are?”
The general shook his head. “Nothing to worry about with full medical care: tired and listless, apathy. And a sensitivity to daylight. They sleep and mope around, making them useless to work. I’m assured that with rest they’ll recover.”
Junius felt the cold hand of fear clutch his shoulder. Those symptoms sounded worryingly familiar. But he had to remember that lots of illnesses could begin like that; he was being paranoid. “May I see them?”
Sulpicius Rufus knocked back his cup of wine and stood. “I think you should.”