The Emperor's Knives: Empire VII (Empire 7) Page 7

  Dubnus shifted in his seat.

  ‘And if you’re right, then the violent death of the first of them will alert the other three that someone’s coming after them.’

  Scaurus nodded.

  ‘It seems likely, Centurion. After all, it’s not as if there’s any shortage of men with a motive, even after their victims’ households have been torn apart. Distant relatives who weren’t actually quite so distant, friends determined to have revenge for the dead … there must be a fair few men in Rome who’d be more than happy to catch any one of these men off guard.’

  The bearded Tungrian stared at the map for a moment.

  ‘It seems like we’ll have to make sure that the first couple of deaths look like accident or incident then, won’t we …?’

  When Marcus had given his wife Excingus’s key earlier that morning, her first reaction had been stunned silence. After a moment, he realised that she was welling up with tears.

  ‘That’s the key to your father’s house in the city?’

  His wife’s reaction was wordless, a tear trickling down her cheek as she fought for composure, and Marcus spoke gently into the silence.

  ‘And now a calculating animal like Excingus hands it to me with a smile. What to make of that, I wonder?’

  Taking a deep breath Felicia managed to speak, her voice trembling with emotion.

  ‘I doubt it would stand much comparison with what you were used to when your father was still alive, but it’s a quiet enough little place, and I was so fond of it before we left Rome. I grew up in that house, and it’s my last link to my mother and father. When I married that bastard Bassus, he took the key off me and sent it to his brother. He said that we would live in it when he was posted back to Rome, but that we might as well get some use out of the place in the meantime. I’d all but forgotten it, with everything that’s happened since, until you put this key in my hand. But how did that awful man come by it, I wonder?’

  She fell silent again, lost for words at having the means of access to a house she had long since abandoned to the wreckage of her previous marriage. Marcus shook his head.

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me, but I doubt there was very much subtlety to his taking possession of the place. Where is the house?’

  ‘It’s up on the Aventine Hill.’

  He wiped her tears away and took her hands in his.

  ‘I’ll ask Cotta if a few of his brighter men might escort you into the city later, and you can go and have a look around the place and decide what you want to do about it. Half a dozen scar-faced veterans ought to be enough to deter the most determined of thieves. Why not take Annia with you, and make a morning of it? After all, there are plenty of shops on the way, and you were saying that you needed to find some better clothing than the stuff you’ve been wearing for the last few months. Why not treat her, and buy the children something new to wear as well?’

  Rummaging in his purse, he’d spilled a handful of coins onto the bed between them, eliciting a tearful smile from his wife.

  ‘Well now, Centurion, what a nice idea! It’ll make a change from all of our money going to fund exotic swords and the latest fashion in helmets …’

  When Marcus had requested Cotta to lend him a few of his men to escort Felicia and Annia into the city, and explained the real purpose of the expedition, the veteran’s response had been swift and unequivocal.

  ‘That’s a job for me. If your women and children are going to set foot outside of this barrack then I’ll be the man escorting them, me and a few of my choicest lads, the best combination of bright and nasty, if you know what I mean. If Senator Albinus wanted you dead to teach the tribune here a lesson, then I can’t see him hesitating to kill or abduct your wife if he sees the opportunity. And from what you’ve told me about this Excingus character, he won’t hesitate to inform the senator about your circumstances if he gets to hear about our little falling out with Albinus. So I think I’ll take a careful look around the place before there’s any talk of moving in, shall I?’

  The Tungrian officers watched as the small party headed for the barracks’ gate before turning back to their training duties. Scaurus and Julius had decided to maintain the two cohorts’ fitness and weapons skills regimes while the Tungrians were in barracks awaiting their next orders, reasoning that whether they were sent back to Britannia or elsewhere in the empire, they were likely to be in the thick of the action soon enough. The hulking first spear nodded happily at the sight of his men working hard at their weapons skills.

  ‘Not bad, if I say so myself. Not bad at all.’

  The transit barracks’ parade ground had been converted into a training area, with dozens of pairs of men sparring with wooden swords while others looked on and offered derisory advice before taking their own turn. A piece of open ground alongside the barracks had been commandeered, with twenty wooden posts having been erected at one end. In front of each post a tent party of seven or eight men took turns to hurl their spears at the man-sized wooden target from twenty paces; those men who missed being detailed off to run the field’s perimeter with the offending weapon held over their heads before rejoining their comrades.

  ‘Infantrymen sweating their bollocks off in the sunshine. What an agreeable sight!’

  The three centurions turned to see who was addressing them to find themselves under the scrutiny of an amused-looking man in an anonymous tunic, his boots scuffed and battered from continual heavy use and only cursory attention. Every inch as tall as Dubnus, if nowhere near as massive in build, his heavy beard was flecked with grey, and his brown eyes were set in a face whose skin resembled aged leather.

  ‘And you are?’

  The newcomer nodded to Julius, ignoring the harsh tone of his question with a good-natured smile.

  ‘Avidus, Centurion, Third Augusta. You?’

  The first spear stared at the other man for a moment with his eyes narrowed, and for a moment Marcus spoke quickly, convinced that Julius was on the verge of setting about the stranger with his vine stick.

  ‘You’re not an infantry officer, are you Avidus?’

  The weathered face turned to look at him with its amused expression untroubled by Julius’s glare.

  ‘Infantry? Fuck no! I, sonny, am one of that glorious band of men who get the opportunity to march at the head of the legion. I’m a pioneer, gentlemen, or to be more precise, a surveyor in command of a detachment of pioneers.’

  Dubnus looked at him for a moment with an expression of growing glee before finding his voice.

  ‘You’re a road mender!’

  Avidus rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disgust.

  ‘And here was me thinking that I might receive a more sympathetic reception from a member of the auxiliary forces, but clearly one bone-stupid grunt is much like every other, whatever armour they’re wearing.’

  Julius found his voice, putting out his hand.

  ‘Julius, First Spear, First Tungrian Cohort. I was going to beast you for being out of uniform but since you’ve clearly got a pair on you, I won’t waste my breath. What brings you to a transit barracks on the road from Rome to Ostia?’

  The surveyor shrugged.

  ‘You tell me. Me and my lads have been here for the best part of a month.’

  ‘You mean you’ve been sent here and then left to rot?’

  ‘You’ve got it. Nobody seems to know where we’re supposed to be going. We were detached and shipped over here in response to a request for skilled manpower from a legion somewhere else in the empire, but by the time we got here the original request had been mislaid.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Knowing my luck, we’ll end up getting sent somewhere really fucking cold where the only work going is digging out blocked latrines.’

  Dubnus spread his hands in a gesture of disbelief.

  ‘Come on though, a whole month without orders this close to Rome? Have you seen the whores they’ve got in there?’

  Avidus nodded wearily.

  ‘We felt the same, for the f
irst fortnight or so. A different girl every night, and how long was that likely to last, so we went at it like prize-winning chariot horses until we realised that we weren’t going anywhere any time soon. Now our money’s more or less gone, so we’re limited to the occasional walk into the city to look at the women.’

  ‘Look but don’t touch?’

  The surveyor nodded knowingly.

  ‘Exactly. A duck’s arse and an unpaid whore, the two tightest holes you’ll ever find.’

  Julius stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘So you know the best places to go, where the value’s to be found, right?’

  Avidus nodded, pursing his lips in the manner of a man considering his expertise.

  ‘You could say that. We certainly spent enough silver finding out where not to go!’

  ‘In that case, Centurion, I think we can provide each other with some mutual service. You can tell me where best to send my lads when we allow them into the city for a wet, and in return I can ask my tribune if we can spare a little money to let you spend the rest of your time here in some degree of comfort. Which legion did you say you were from?’

  The surveyor grinned, pulling up his tunic sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a winged horse.

  ‘The Third Augusta, First Spear, Africa’s finest!’

  Excingus walked into Albinus’s office between a pair of the senator’s newly recruited bodyguards and bowed deeply, but when he raised his head the expression on his face was anything but subservient. His host waited in silence while the informant looked about him with naked curiosity.

  ‘So, do you like what you see?’

  Excingus smiled gently at the acerbic note in Albinus’s voice, and inclined his head slightly as he replied.

  ‘Indeed, Senator, you are clearly a man of some considerable learning, if I am to judge by the large number of scrolls on your shelves.’

  Albinus laughed tersely.

  ‘You understand flattery then.’

  The informant bowed, his lips twitching in another smile.

  ‘Indeed I do, Senator. And a good many other things besides. Although the principal subject I thought to discuss with you is betrayal.’

  The senator sat back.

  ‘Is it indeed? My secretary gave me to believe that you have something greatly to my advantage to offer?’

  Excingus pursed his lips.

  ‘I believe that I can persuade you that the two are one and the same, Senator Albinus, if you’ll allow me to explain?’

  Albinus waved a patrician hand.

  ‘I can spare you a little time.’

  ‘Thank you. I will deal with betrayal first. As the story has reached my ears, your previous associate Gaius Rutilius Scaurus has of late chosen to play a game more suited to his own ends than those which align with your own, and without any of the respect that ought to be forthcoming from a man in his position to a man of your status. I believe that a recent attempt to teach him some manners foundered on the rock of another man from whom you might have expected somewhat more loyalty than was in fact displayed when the moment arose?’

  The senator’s face darkened.

  ‘If you’ve come to rake over the coals of my recent disappointments then you’ll very shortly find yourself on the street with a new set of lumps, Informer.’

  Excingus opened his arms wide, tilting his head in question.

  ‘I simply seek to establish the facts, Senator. I’ve found in the past that the redress of injustices is more easily achieved when all parties are clear as to what needs to be achieved.’

  He waited for a moment, and at length Albinus waved a hand.

  ‘Then continue. But move to what you have to offer to my advantage sooner rather than later.’

  ‘Indeed. To illustrate that potential benefit, I must first point out that I have achieved a position of some influence with your senatorial colleague Gaius Carius Sigilis. He purchases information from me with regard to the activities of certain men who are, shall we say, loosely aligned with the imperial household. Men who provide the emperor with their services when the occasional need arises for prominent members of society to be removed from their positions.’

  Albinus leaned across the desk.

  ‘Sigilis buys information from you in order to understand whether he’s likely to be murdered for his estate?’ The informant nodded, and Albinus leaned back, looking at the ceiling as he spoke again. ‘As well he might. I may be safe from such threats due to my recent services to the imperial chamberlain, but he most certainly is not, from the rumours I hear. But what does this have to do with Scaurus?’

  Excingus smiled.

  ‘The tribune has recently contacted Senator Sigilis, and indeed visited him, with the sole intention of using the information I sell to him to track down and murder each of the four men who have become known as “The Emperor’s Knives”. He is accompanied, as I am sure you will be aware, by a young centurion who goes by the name of Corvus, although he is in reality the son of Appius Valerius Aquila. And this young man is consumed with the need to have his revenge for the destruction of his family. It seems that now his main target is dead, killed by the emperor as a direct consequence of your recent visit to the palace bearing an obscene quantity of stolen gold, he has resolved to deal with his father’s murderers in person.’

  ‘And the benefit that this might have to me is …?’

  ‘Given that I will be feeding Scaurus and Aquila with the information they will then use to hunt down the emperor’s tame killers, it would be remarkably easy to point them in the direction not of their intended target, but instead send them head first into a trap of our devising.’

  Albinus nodded slowly.

  ‘I like the way you think, Informant. And your price for delivering these ungrateful bastards into that trap would be what exactly?’

  ‘A modest one. I’m already very well paid by Senator Sigilis. This is more of a personal matter than for financial benefit, so I can afford to make my fee for the job a modest one. Shall we say ten aurei in gold, to be paid when Scaurus and Aquila are delivered to you?’

  The senator smiled.

  ‘Two and half thousand sestertii? I would have paid a good deal more, but you know your own price. So, our interests are aligned then, it seems. Very well, come back to me when you have information upon which I can act. And in the meantime, I think it best if you do not come to my house again. Send a messenger with a proposed meeting place, somewhere public, and we can contrive to meet and talk with a lower profile than will be the case if you’re seen entering my property.’

  Excingus inclined his head again.

  ‘As you suggest, Senator.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to struggle with all that baggage, Domina. My young lads will be happy to carry your purchases for you.’

  Cotta had been a provider of bodyguards to Rome’s ruling class for long enough that he knew the ways of the women with whose safety he was entrusted, which was why he had brought a pair of his younger recruits along on the shopping expedition. Taking Felicia’s load of fresh food and clothing from her, he distributed it between the pair, giving them a significant look as he did so.

  ‘And what you learn from this, my lads, is that you never take just enough men on a shopping trip. Someone’s going to end up holding whatever it is that you’ve all gone looking for, and we can’t allow good manners to compromise good security, can we?’ He turned back to Felicia with a smile. ‘Shall we be on our way to your house, Domina?’

  The doctor raised an eyebrow at him.

  ‘There’s really no need to call me that, Centurion. My name will make a perfectly adequate form of address.’

  Cotta shook his head with a tight smile.

  ‘Sorry, Domina, but whether you appreciate it or not, you’re the wife of a Roman senator, even if he has fallen on rather harder times than we might like. One of these days that young man’s family name will be restored to its previous status, and I see no reason not to show due respect to i
t in the meantime. Now, where is this house of yours, exactly?’

  They climbed the Aventine Hill at a pace sedate enough for the women, who were both carrying their children, until at length Felicia stopped and stared in a combination of hope and trepidation at a house of moderate size in its own modest garden, protected from casual onlookers by a six-foot-high wall. Overlooked on three sides by larger buildings, it was nevertheless clearly still the sort of residence that only a well-to-do and moderately wealthy family would be able to afford. The district was of a decent quality, with nothing more jarring to Cotta’s trained eye than a pair of roughly dressed children playing with a wooden hoop on the corner. Taking in Felicia’s determined expression, the veteran officer held out his hand.

  ‘Perhaps I ought to go in first, Domina. After all, we have no idea what might be waiting for us inside. If I might have that key please?’

  After a moment’s thought she surrendered the iron key, and with a word to his men to stay on their toes, Cotta opened the gate and looked cautiously through it into the garden, a well-tended paved affair with flower beds and plant pots that had clearly been weeded and watered recently. Slipping though the gateway he pushed the door back into place, sliding a dagger free from its sheath on his upper-left arm as he turned to stare at the house. Padding softly across the paving slabs, he walked quickly to the window on the front door’s left, peering through the glass’s rippling sheet into the room behind it. Nothing was moving. Walking on round the house, he found a door, and, lifting the latch, was surprised to find it unsecured. It opened with a gentle creak that announced his presence as obviously as if he’d knocked, and, abandoning stealth, he went through the doorway with his knife held ready to fight, finding himself in a well-sized kitchen which had been left scrupulously clean by the previous inhabitants. The plates and pans were clean, and stacked in orderly piles, and there was none of the smell of rotting food he had expected. Moving through the house he found the same situation in every room, the floors clean, the furniture well ordered, but no trace at all of whoever had lived in them previously, and after a few minutes of cautious searching he shrugged, sheathed the knife and made his way to the front door.