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Chapter 36
Regullus and his three protectors thumped on the door, their hands on their knives in anticipation. The door opened slowly, deep brown eyes peeping through the crack at the tax collector. “Is your father home?” The boy looked over his shoulder, fear written across his face. “Tell him we only want a word.”
The door closed and Regullus heard the boy rushing about and calling for his father from within the house. Turning to one of his men he grimaced, “dump” he said, nodding towards the half-mended fence and rubbish which lay in piles around the house. His man scowled back, gripping his knife more tightly. The door suddenly opened and Brevo stood filling the void.
“What do you want Regullus?” A club was raised, several iron nails jutting through the heavy wood.
“Calm down Brevo. We’ve come to talk, that’s all.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you.”
“I’m only doing my job, Brevo. You still owe the boss four hundred. He’s cut your credit in the city and I know you’re struggling” he said with a look around the yard. Two men appeared behind Brevo, their faces set into angry glares. “You need to pay fifty today, or we’ll be back with more men to find something worth the debt.” Brevo made a move to step forward, but regulus held up a hand. “It’s all legal Brevo, you signed for the materials, the stone, wood” he shrugged. “If you don’t pay us the fifty, you’ll be sent a legal warrant. It’s just business” he said as Brevo stepped out, his club rising and his teeth bared.
“Get off my land” he growled.
“Your choice” said the tax collector. “You know the consequences” he added as he slapped one of his men on the shoulder and nodded towards the road. “Look” he said as his men started to walk away. “I’ve known you a long time” he glanced up the road at his retreating men. “My nephew was at Satricum, he says what you did was unbelievable, the bravest and best thing he’s ever seen. But the laws the law man, you need to sell something to pay off the credit. I wish I could help” he said with genuine feeling. He sighed as he turned away. “Sell the crown you got for Satricum, must be worth a few hundred, it’d keep me off your back for another few weeks” he added with a look back at Brevo.
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Marcus stood and addressed the senate, his face stern. “We’ve heard that these attacks within the city by followers of Capitolinus are not condoned by his family. They have spoken to him and he has denied all knowledge of any wrongdoing and any knowledge of who is causing such damage. He states that the people are simply unhappy that Jupiter’s chosen man is incarcerated, and they have lost their voice in the city. We’ve heard the debates and I do not see how removing him from gaol at this time will improve the situation, as some have argued. It is my view that we should put a force of soldiers on patrol in the city at night to stop these criminals from doing any further damage. I ask for your agreement, senators.”
“The problem isn’t one that will go away by patrolling the streets” said a bent-backed senator called Maxeus, his white hair cropped into short spikes through which his balding pate could be seen. “The people are mutinous, Camillus. They stand outside the Carcer day and night, their beards left unkempt and clothes unwashed, calling for Capitolinus to be freed, calling for Jupiter and the gods to bring their anger on the senate who put him there. More and more people are flocking to his aide. I fear that caging the man has brought more people to his cause. I am concerned, as are others, that without freeing him we will bring down the wrath of Jupiter. His deeds on the Capitol were worthy of the love of the gods themselves, we must also be wary of the strength of the plebeians.”
“I believe the man has overstepped himself and given the plebeians a desire for power beyond their position. Don’t forget that it was the plebeians who slept on duty whilst the Barbarians climbed the Tarpeian Rock, Maxeus. It was the noble families of Rome that charged to the cliff face and expelled the invaders, not the plebs with their incessant complaints and desire for new roles governing the city. Capitolinus has shown his true colours. He wants to be king, you’re heard him and seen his actions.” Snapped Quirinus in response.
“These fires!” Maxeus exclaimed with a look at Quirinus which showed his disrespect for the younger man. “Tell me how nobody has seen the perpetrators. Tell me how there are no signs of arson. It can only be the gods showing their anger. I say we release Capitolinus before he calls the anger of the gods on all our heads.”
“Rubbish” spat Quirinus as the chamber mumbled agreement and disagreement in equal measure, heads dropping into whispered conversations. “The man should be taken away and beheaded for the petty criminal he is.” His shouts caused others to stand and call for similar measures. “I’ve been most outspoken against the man, and it’s my stores that are being attacked. The link is clear.”
“I agree with Quirinus. We cannot assume that the gods are angry simply because there is trouble in the city” Marcus shouted, his voice thundering around the room. “We must protect the people by sending patrols into the streets to ensure everyone is safe.”
“The city is too large to cover every street” exclaimed Quirinus in exasperation. “Each family will have to look after themselves. I have men outside every one of my stores and houses. I cannot afford to lose anything else to these criminals. I tell you now, senators, if we do not resolve the situation of Manlius-Capitolinus soon we will not have peace for years” he shouted as voices rose again in anger and agreement.
After another hour a vote was taken, and the vote to release Capitolinus and put him under house arrest was carried and the senate began to dissolve. As Marcus left the chamber and turned narrow eyes to the wind which rushed across the forum he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Camillus” said the voice of Quirinus. “I believe we have similar views on this matter and would talk to you in private.”
Looking back at the busy street Marcus nodded curtly and stepped to the side, checking that the side road was clear before moving to stand by one of the line of tall fir trees which adjoined the building.
“Letting this man free is the wrong solution” whispered Quirinus. “You know that” he beseeched. Marcus frowned but didn’t reply immediately, so the young patrician continued. “Now that he is free these attacks will not stop, they will increase. I know it” he added as his eyes bore directly into those of Marcus. “He won’t stop until he has every plebeian aligned against every patrician, and he’s hurting us where it hurts us most – in our commerce. Look at the attacks on my stores, and those of the Vettii clan. Every attack leaving no sign of who did the act, no clue” he added as his eyes looked to the floor. “But I know it’s him” exclaimed the young man again.
“And what do you want from me, Quirinus?” asked Marcus pointedly.
“We must prepare for these attacks to increase. Your family and mine. We can set up watches overnight, keep an eye on his house and see who goes there, make sure we know his every move. Then we can strike, remove the head and then stamp on the body” Quirinus said, his voice desperate.
Marcus looked at him and considered his words. It was obvious that the man was frantic. It was true that several of the man’s family stores had been raided, mostly burnt to the ground, but other stores of precious amphora had also been stolen; removed without a trace. The Vettii, cousins of the Quirinii, had also seen more attacks than any other family, something that had puzzled many of the patricians in their private conversations. Thinking quickly, he assessed the situation. Publicly supporting Quirinus would potentially create an alliance between the two families which might have advantages. The Quirinii were an old family who’d lost all their family heads to both the wars with the Gauls or disease and death on the Capitol Hill. Quirinus had been thrust into the role of head of the family, literally, overnight as his father and two uncles had died within the space of a few days. Could a man in his thirties hold together the family alliance? Marcus felt his jaw tense as he looked back at Quirinus, his despera
tion clear in his face.
Placing a hand on his shoulder he spoke quietly. “Let me think on it” he said, his eyes glancing up at the road where he saw a wagon filled with bales of hay had rounded the corner, two heavy oxen with long, drooling, pink tongues dragging the load along the heavy flagstones. “Bring your family heads to my house tomorrow and we’ll discuss what options we may have” he added to the obvious delight of Quirinus.
As the two men parted and headed in separate directions, Istros dropped from the tree which he had, fortuitously climbed after listening to the debate inside the building. He watched Camillus as he left the forum, winding his way back towards the Boarium. Shaking his head and letting out a slow sigh he turned towards Javenoli’s house. Quirinus and Camillus joining forces was a turn of events that the old man hadn’t foreseen, he thought. Javenoli had spent weeks plotting to capitalise on the Quirinii and Vettii attacks, which Istros had led, and this twist of fate could change some of those plans. Fate, thought Istros, where was fate leading them all? Had the gods truly laid out their paths before them?
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Fate is holding me back, thought Menenius. He lowered his body to the floor and shut his eyes tightly. He intoned prayers to the gods to help him, his body prostrated on the temple floor in front of the altar, still dripping with the blood of the young goat he’d paid to sacrifice. His silence was interrupted by the shouts and thumping of drums from outside the temple, his heart leaping in fear at the sudden cacophony of noise. Rising and rushing to the doorway he saw an enormous crowd appear from the road which led towards the Capitol Hill, men and women calling out indiscriminately, cheering, waving and calling for justice. Rushing over to the crowd he shouted to a thin man, arms covered in red scabs as if he’d been picking at sores for weeks on end. “What is it?” What has happened?”
The man appraised him with a scowl, his eyes scanning him quickly. “Capitolinus, our saviour has been freed” he replied, his scrawny arms rising and his voice shouting out the name of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, a call which was repeated by those closest to him in the crowd.
At this, Menenius pushed his way towards the front of the crowd, yelling that he was a plebeian tribune and should be given space. After some time, and out of breath for his efforts, he found himself at the centre of the crowd, where Capitolinus stood, his right arm in the air, intoning Jupiter to come and see his triumph. As Menenius stepped into the centre he was recognised by Sicinius.
“Here he is” called the other plebeian tribune. “Here” he called, waving Menenius across and receiving a bear hug of a greeting from Capitolinus, the smell of shit on the man causing the new arrival to almost throw up as he gagged at the stench. Sicinius slapped him on the back with a great bark of a laugh.
“These men were given signs by Jupiter himself to save me from the creeping death of the pit” shouted Capitolinus, his filthy clothes hanging from his bare shoulders. His face was covered in grime, though Menenius could tell that he’d lost little of his normal weight and his features appeared rosy under the grime which was smeared over his face and body. “Jupiter has brought me out into the light so that I can shed his rays of love and hope to every man in Rome. No longer will you be held under the patrician boot, my friends. I, Marcus Manlius Capitolinus” at which he turned towards the Capitol Hill, “in sight of Jupiter himself” he said as he pointed towards the great temple which was visible above the houses, “am your champion, people of Rome. Jupiter has decreed it.” At this the roar of the crowd completely hid the words that Capitolinus continued to shout, Menenius staring open-mouthed at the reaction of the people who thronged around the square and called the name of Jupiter and Capitolinus with equal verve. The fervour unnerved him, the adulation made his skin crawl with fear. What was happening to his city? What was happening to Rome?
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Auguronos crept into the darkness and stumbled into a chair, his gasp of pain resonating whilst his hopping and shuffling movements were hidden by the total blackness. Moments later a spark, then another, momentarily lit the small space before the candle light flickered into the room.
“Gah” called Auguronos as he saw the face of Istros stood within a foot of him, his black eyes watching him impassively. “You scared the life out of me” the younger man said, his hand relaxing from his belt where a glint of iron caught Istros’ eyes.
“You’re to call off the attack on the store by the harbour tomorrow night. No questions” Istros added as Auguronos’ face screwed up with disbelief.
“What? this late?” the boy said, his anger flashing behind his eyes. “Who’s going to pay for the men?” he added quickly as he saw Istros wasn’t going to add any further information to this sudden announcement. A bag of coins hit the floor with a heavy clunk. Auguronos stepped back at the sudden noise, his face jerking up to stare at Istros. “Tidy up the loose ends, no mistakes” said Istros.
As he bent to take the coins Auguronos looked up at the assassin. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked Istros, everything” he said, his voice half way between anger and fear. “Do I need to fear your knife in my back? You’ve taught me to have no loose ends and I need to know if I am, now, one of those loose ends?” he asked.
Istros tightened his lips into a thin line, his eyes never leaving the boy whose life he’d saved. “I believe the gods have a place for you in this world” he said slowly. “I’ve taught you well, you’ve improved” he said with a wrinkle of a smile creeping to his lips. “Take the money, there’s more work to be done. And” he said, now smiling, “if you’d listened to my lessons you wouldn’t ever allow anyone to sneak up behind you and put a knife in your back.”
Auguronos visibly relaxed before nodding sharply and turning to leave.
“Candle” said Istros with a sigh “before you go out the door you need to let your eyes accustom to the darkness.”
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Chapter 37
“What?” said Crastinus as he placed the metal object on the table, his eyes staring in disbelief at the man who’d handed it to him.
“Won it last night at dice.”
“Brevo?” asked the centurion, to the shrug from the man in front of him. “I don’t understand” he implored as he moved his eyes towards the crown that Brevo had won attacking the gate only a month or so earlier and inclined his head in its direction.
The man shuffled momentarily under the gaze of the officer before speaking. “It seems he’s hit tough times again, Sir. Debts. He’s sold everything of value and he was trying to make some money gambling with the lads. He won a bit, but then he lost it all before pulling this out on one last game” his hand pointed towards the crown, drawing Crastinus’ eyes back to the object.
“How much did he lose?”
“Everything” came the reply.
Crastinus shook his head, his hand rubbing vigorously at his lightly stubbled chin as he stared in disbelief at the crown on the table in front of him. “Things must be bad” he said without looking up.
“The lads said he’s sold one of the family farms to repay some of the debts” came the quiet reply. “But I know he lost that at dice too” said the legionary, his eyes now fixed on the wall behind Crastinus, as his face turned from surprise to anger.
“Gods, what is happening to the man?” he snapped, rising to his feet suddenly. The legionary kept his opinion to himself as his commanding officer strode to the window and pushed open the shutter, allowing the grey light of a drizzly morning into the room along with spatters of rain. “Thank you, Carus, take the crown, it’s yours. There’s nothing else we can do for the man” he said quietly as he stared out at the puddle strewn floor in the courtyard.
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Capitolinus closed the shutter fully, the rain had gotten in and soaked the window ledge in front of him, droplets of water dripping to the floor. He lifted his head to a slave and waved a hand at the puddle of water, his instruction clear.
He turned back to his house guests and reprimanded the
m. “You know the reasons, I need men out there telling the people that I will free them from their chains as well as I do.” Sicinius and Menenius sat at a table in the centre of the room and glanced to each other. Capitolinus placed his hands on his hips and glared at both plebeian tribunes for a moment as he waited for their answer.
“The men won’t do it, it’s too cold and wet, nobody will do it without payment” Sicinius answered. “The men who worked last week are all off with sickness, one is shivering as if he’s caught the marsh plague, it’s put people off” he said in exasperation.
Capitolinus looked around the room and let out a deep breath before sitting. “The winter is the best time to change people’s minds” he said as he re-joined the two men sitting at the table and placing both hands in front of himself. “If I cannot rely on these men to stand and speak for me, then I must do it myself” he said. “Jupiter will watch over me” he added with a glance towards the window where the slave was mopping up the rain-water with a cloth.
The King of Rome Page 49
