Demetrius went out through the front door and Adonibaal was left nursing a deep sense of unease. He had been forced to reveal his hand to the spy. He didn’t like the Macedonian but he’d had no choice and perhaps, just maybe the man would bring him back into the game.
***
Demetrius was back quicker than Adonibaal had expected. He came into the room with an excited look on his face. Sweat lathered his forehead.
“Fabius is at home on the Palatine,” he gasped, “But they are going to move him out of the city tomorrow night. A man named Numerius is in charge of his security. They are going to take Fabius to his house. He lives somewhere on the Janiculum. They think he will be safer there.”
Adonibaal’s eyes glinted but he betrayed nothing of what he was thinking.
“And how did you find out this information?” he snapped.
Demetrius blinked in surprise and a little colour shot to his cheeks.
“One of Fabius’s guards is fucking one of my girls. That’s how I know,” he muttered.
“How many guards will Fabius have?”
“I don’t know,” Demetrius muttered, “But I can find out.”
“No,” Adonibaal shook his head, “It would look suspicious if the girl asked him that sort of question.”
Demetrius nodded quickly in agreement.
“Do you think Gisgo will keep his promises when this is all over,” he said.
The question caught Adonibaal by surprise. He hadn’t given the matter any thought but now that the Macedonian had raised it he grew annoyed.
“He will,” he replied gruffly.
“Of course,” Demetrius nodded and looked away.
Adonibaal paused for a long moment to think.
“I must go out now. There is something that I need to do but I will be back before nightfall.”
As he left the house via the broken back door Adonibaal wondered again whether he could trust the Macedonian. There was something different about Demetrius that he just couldn’t place but the man had proved useful. There was no denying that he was back in the game. The information that Demetrius had unearthed had given him another chance. And this time he would add an element of deception. He made his way towards the forum. Streams of people were coming the opposite way and there was an excited carnival like atmosphere in the air. The plan he had in mind was brilliant and if it worked it would completely wrong foot his brother. Up ahead he could see that his way was blocked by a crowd of people lining the street. The people were cheering. He stopped and craned his head to look down the road. Coming towards him was Pompeia. The crowd were throwing flowers onto the street ahead of her. Resolutely Adonibaal pushed his way through the crowd towards her.
Chapter Twentynine – Brothers
The Senate house was deserted except for a small group of men who clustered informally on the benches in the far corner. They looked serious and sombre as they listened to the man in their midst. Numerius sat a few rows back from the senators watching the historic meeting where Fabius was uniting the Senate and the people of Rome. The veteran leader was on his feet, pacing up and down.
“So we are all agreed then,” Fabius said glancing at the faces around him.
Pera the dictator nodded solemnly. “Grachus and I will take the newly raised troops southwards and will keep an eye on Hannibal’s movements but we won’t risk battle unless the terms are highly favourable,” he said.
“Don’t let him trick you,” Fabius replied, “Hannibal is the master of the ambush.”
“There will be no more slaughter like Cannae,” Pera said confidently.
“I will leave for Canusium tonight and take over command of the remnants of Varro’s army,” Marcellus, a dapper old general added.
Fabius walked up to the old general and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know Rome can count on you old friend. Treat Varro with respect, tell him that he is to return to Rome at once and that he is to lay down his consulship but tell him that the Senate thanks him for not despairing of the Republic.”
Marcellus nodded. “I will,” he replied.
“Once you have taken command move your men to Nola and fortify the town,” Fabius said, “Hannibal will try and take it. It’s of great strategic importance. I’m afraid though you won’t be able to expect any reinforcements.”
“I will hold Nola for the Republic,” Marcellus said.
“An army will also need to be sent to Greece to check the Macedonians who are threatening to ally themselves with Hannibal. Another will need to keep an eye on the Gaul’s in the north, two Legions should be sufficient, an army will also need to remain here to protect Rome and were also going to have to build a new fleet to support our allies in Syracuse,” Fabius announced.
He paused as the vast scope and burden of Rome’s commitments became obvious for all to see. This was the greatest war Rome had ever faced. Her armies would have to fight from Spain to Sicily and from Northern Italy to southern Greece against a host of enemies, Spaniards, Carthaginians, Celts, Macedonians and a growing list of former allies in southern Italy.
“We will do this gentlemen, Rome will conquer,” Fabius said gently as he sensed the mood.
The men solemnly nodded in agreement.
“Our strategy,” Fabius went on, “will be to avoid battle with Hannibal himself. Instead we shall launch multiple attacks on the allies that he is now making in the south.” A glint of cruel delight appeared in Fabius’ eye.
“Hannibal is going to learn that he cannot be in two places at the same time and gentlemen, without the support of his allies he will not be able to remain in Italy. As for you young man,” Fabius turned to the youngest of the distinguished men clustered around him, “Your father and uncle will remain in Spain with their armies. I know that some in the Senate would like our Spanish armies to come home to defend Rome but however popular that decision may be it will not win us the war. Your father and uncle have been ordered to prevent Hannibal’s brothers from following him across the Alps into Italy.” Fabius looked at the young man sternly. “I cannot let you go and join them. The Senate has a more important task for you. You will organise the new quotas of men and supplies which we are going to need from our Latin allies and our citizen colonies. It’s vital that we begin to mobilize all our strength.”
Scipio bowed gracefully but Numerius could see that he was disappointed. No doubt the young ambitious Patrician had been hoping to be given a role where he would be able to win glory on the battlefield. As if reading the youngster’s mind Fabius allowed his eyes to linger on the Tribune who had only just returned from the south. “This is going to be a long war,” he added.
“I shall win the war for the Republic,” Scipio said boldly and the total self believe in his voice brought a few smiles onto the faces of the older men.
“Now with regards to internal matters,” Fabius said turning to at a small wiry man whom Numerius didn’t recognise, “The high priest has informed me, through his colleague here, that Metellus has been exiled for life for his despicable violation of one of our Vestals. He left the city this morning.”
There was an audible sigh of relief from the Senators.
The wiry man rose to his feet and unrolled a scroll of parchment.
“I have been instructed to read this statement to you,” he coughed. “The Pontifex Maximus,” he began, “wishes you know that he fully supports the Senate’s decisions and will ask the gods to grant Rome victory. He has instructed every priest and magistrate to carry out their duties with extra special care and attention.” A bead of sweat ran down the priests face. “Regarding the two Vestals Floronia and Opimia, they will be put on trial but unfortunately one of them has committed suicide. The Vestal Pompeia, who was declared innocent, will be allowed to retire to private life. As she is no longer a virgin, she cannot continue to serve her goddess. The Vestals will therefore require three new girls to join their order and suitable invitations have already been dispatched.”
The priest swallowed and t
urned to look at Numerius.
“The Pontifex Maximus wishes to compensate Numerius Fabius Vibulani. He offers a pound of Gold or ten acres of land near Telamon. Choose which you will accept and it will be so.”
The priest lowered his parchment and looked up.
Numerius had risen to his feet. His face looked grey and old with large dark bags beneath his eyes.
“I want nothing from you,” he replied, “If the high priest thinks he can buy my forgiveness with gold then he’s more of an idiot than I thought.”
The priest nodded curtly. “It is settled then,” he said with the smooth indifference of a lawyer.
***
Fabius and Numerius were left alone in the Senate house as the senators and generals departed. The building was eerily quiet. They sat on the front bench staring at the speaker’s chair. Through the open doors behind the speaker’s chair, the first stars had appeared in the evening sky.
“I have seen two generations of your family take their seats in this hall,” Fabius sighed. “Rome needs good men, and good men need Rome. If you truly understand what she is, Numerius, you will know that dedicating your life to her is easy. When we and all who come after us have long turned to dust and every word that we have ever spoken has been forgotten; men will still remember what Rome was.”
“I am a dying man filled only with bitterness and regret,” Numerius grunted.
Fabius sighed again and nodded. “Rome demands much from us it is true and still men come here to serve her and give all they have got.”
“I have given Rome everything I had and she has left me with nothing.”
Fabius rose to his feet and glanced at Numerius sternly. “You should not talk like this, old friend”. He paused and laid a hand on Numerius’ shoulder and glanced up at the roof of the great hall. “We are mere mortals and she is eternal, we should not expect anything from her.”
Numerius lowered his head. “I must thank you for what you did to save my daughter,” he said.
Fabius gripped Numerius’ shoulder and smiled.
“What made you think I had anything to do with that?”
“You had the Senate relax the ban on women leaving their homes. You persuaded the dictator to have his men close by.”
“Ah,” Fabius nodded happily, “yes it all seemed to work out well.” He paused. “There are still some in the Senate who would like to see you punished for causing Milo’s death.”
“He died from an infection. He was alive when I released him.”
Fabius held up his hand, “There is no need to defend your self. You are not on trial. There are some in the Senate though who would still like to see you punished but their anger is shallow and will fade over time.”
“What will you do with Milo’ accounts?” Numerius asked.
“Nothing,” Fabius replied curtly, “they have been locked away. We cannot afford to upset and divide the Senate at this time. It is vital that we remain a united force.”
Numerius coughed.
“And what about my brother, what will be his fate?”
***
Adonibaal felt guilty. He could still feel the cool touch of her skin. It had been the first time he had seen her from close up. She had been quite beautiful but what he had not expected was how much like Flavia she looked. There had been something innocent about the way she had stared at him and for an insane moment he had believed that she actually was Flavia, so strong was the resemblance between daughter and mother. He had done what he had come to do and afterwards he had fled like a coward. Now as he made his way back towards Demetrius’ house on the Aventine he could not contain the growing sense of guilt. He was using her. She had done nothing to wrong him. But now he was using his own daughter in his plan to kill Fabius. The plan was simple and effective. He had calculated that she would tell Numerius about the encounter and Numerius would then move to set a trap for him at the appointed hour and place. Except; he had no intention of going to meet her. The deception would instead be on his brother for whilst Numerius waited for him in vain at the temple of Diane he would enter the house on the Janiculum and kill Fabius. But now he felt guilty and the feeling confused him.
“Stick to the plan,” he muttered to himself.
He stumbled on. People pushed past him but he was oblivious to his surroundings. It had been a very long since he had ever felt guilty about anything. It was a horrible feeling and in an alley he suddenly leaned against a wall and threw up. People stopped to stare at him and quickly he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stumbled on. A man’s voice cried out in protest but Adonibaal didn’t look back to see what it was about. He would make her understand he thought. When this was all over he would explain himself to her, he would tell her everything, about his life, what he had done and who he was. She would know it all, every last detail and as the thoughts gathered in his mind he felt the growing urge to explain himself building like some huge tidal wave. She would know him for the man he was supposed to have been and not the monster he’d become. She should know the truth. She should know the oath of loyalty he and Flavia had sworn to each other. She would know that he was loyal to that oath still.
He heard running feet behind him and in alarm whirled round. But it was just a group of children chasing one of their own. He wiped the sweat from his face and caught sight of an old woman sitting on her doorstep watching him. The lady was chewing on something and her eyes were just slits in a heavily wrinkled face. Adonibaal fled up the street alarmed by his own behaviour and his sudden inexplicable loss of confidence. He could not bring himself to admit it but his encounter with Pompeia had spooked him.
***
It was night and like a ghost Adonibaal stood hidden in the darkness of a vestibula. There was no moon. A perfect night he thought. Across the street a group of soldiers had gathered around the entrance to Fabius’ house. Adonibaal had counted ten men. He could see them easily enough for most of them were carrying burning torches that lit up the entrance hall with eerie flickering devilish light. Ten armed men were too much to take on in one assault, even for him. Fabius was making sure he was well protected. The soldiers seemed to be waiting for something to happen but the door to the house remained firmly closed.
Adonibaal’s thoughts wandered as he waited. Patience was something he had a lot of. He thought of Pompeia and Numerius. Would they be waiting for him outside the temple of Diane just like he was waiting now for Fabius? Would she be stood there alone beside the temple, like some goat staked to the ground whilst the hunters waited for the wolf to appear? The guilt he’d felt at getting her involved had never really gone away. It was wrong but the decision had been made and he would have to see it through to the end. The time to explain would come afterwards. If there would be an afterwards he thought grimly. But he had prepared for that too.
He’d remained all day at Demetrius’s house and as he’d waited the tension had began to build. Demetrius’ comments about Gisgo had unsettled him. The Macedonian’s words had affected him like a slow acting poison and he’d hated the spy for it. He’d passed the time playing with Centurion, twirling the sword one way and then the other as he watched the Macedonian and his woman go about their business. They had not spoken much but he could see the tension on their faces too. It had been a relief therefore for all when he’d slipped out into the night to take up his observation post. He was going to kill Fabius tonight. Now he felt the calm familiar professionalism of a man who knew he was in control. He knew how to stalk his prey and he knew he was good. Fabius was going to die.
His attention was suddenly drawn to the soldiers across the street. The men had fallen silent. Then he saw why. The door to Fabius’ house was open. A moment later Fabius appeared clad in his Senatorial toga. Adonibaal caught a quick glimpse of the man’s white hair before his view was obstructed by the armed escort. Following him out of the door were four litter bearers carrying a closed litter and a gaggle of slaves with various boxes on their backs. Fabius was taking his perso
nal belongings with him Adonibaal thought. That must mean he was planning to stay away for an extended period. He grunted in satisfaction as he saw no sign of his brother. Numerius must have taken the bait.
The door to the house closed and he saw Fabius slip quickly into the litter. The curtains were immediately drawn around him and with a synchronised effort the bearers raised the litter from the ground. Then the whole procession started off down the street. Adonibaal watched them go until he was certain in which direction they were heading. Then he emerged from his hiding place and began to run. The procession was heading for the Trigemina gate, the most direct route if one wanted to go to the Janiculum. It made sense. Adonibaal had scouted the route in advance and now his preparations paid off for he shot through the darkened streets and made it to the gateway well in advance of his slow moving prey.
He could see them approaching long before he could hear them. The procession of torches bore down towards him. Adonibaal faded into the shadows as the litter halted before the closed gates. The guards whose duty it was to protect this gate conversed briefly with Fabius’s men and then he heard a great creaking noise that told him the gate was being opened. He watched as the first of the torches passed on through and then coolly he stepped from the shadows and joined the tail end of the gaggle of slaves whom were carrying the boxes. No one challenged him. In the flickering torch light he must have appeared as just another slave following on behind his master’s litter. He held his breath as he passed under the gateway. Still no one had spotted him. He kept up with the servants for a few paces beyond the wall and then suddenly faded back into the shadows. There was no sign of alarm. He felt a fierce sense of elation. The fools were half asleep. Amateurs! He resisted the thought of attacking the litter right away. He would stick to the original plan and break into the house and kill Fabius when his men thought he was secure and their guard would be down.
The Shield of Rome Page 28
