'What's the matter?'
'What happens if I get searched and they find it on me?'
'Don't worry, Lavinia. I'll be close by. If anything like that happens before I get the dagger back from you, I'll intervene and explain everything. '
Lavinia looked intently into his face. 'What if you don't?'
Vitellius' expression changed to a mixture of hurt and anger. 'Why would I want to get you into any kind of trouble?'
'I don't know.'
'Exactly. I'm hardly likely to endanger the woman I love, am I?' He reached his arms round her and pulled her towards his chest, waiting until her body felt more relaxed before he continued. 'Once you're inside, waiting on Lady Flavia and Vespasian, I'll find you and retrieve the dagger, as quickly as I can.'
'Not too publicly I hope!'
'Of course not. It wouldn't be seemly for a member of my class to be seen to be groping a slave in public.'
'Thanks for the concern about my reputation,' Lavinia replied bitterly. 'Only joking, my sweet. We'll just have to find somewhere quiet for me to retrieve it.' He squeezed her affectionately. 'Will you do this for me? It'll mean a lot to my father, and it'll help my career along.'
'What's in it for me?'
'As soon as I get my share of the booty I swear I'll buy you from Flavia. Afterwards we can see about having you manurnitted.'
'Nice thought. But why should Flavia want to sell me?'
'I don't think she'd be wise to refuse me,' Vitellius replied quietly. 'Besides, I can present you to the Emperor at the banquet and ask that he makes you my reward for saving the Second Legion from Togodumnus. Vespasian could hardly refuse that. It'd look appallingly ungrateful. Just watch for my signal, and come straight to me.'
'You've got it all worked out, haven't you?' Lavinia replied, frowning.
'Oh yes.'
'And then?' Lavinia asked, eyes shining with hope.
'And then?' Vitellius held her hand to his mouth and kissed the soft skin. 'Then we can cause something of a scandal by getting married.'
'Married…' Lavinia whispered. She flung her arms round his neck and pulled him to her as tightly as possible. 'I love you! I love you so much I'd do anything for you. Anything!'
'Easy, I can hardly breathe!' Vitellius chuckled. 'All I ask of you is this small favour, and that you will consent to be my wife as soon as we can make it possible.'
'Oh yes!' Lavinia planted a kiss on his cheek and quickly pulled away.
'Now I must go.' She picked up the dagger.
'Here, wrap it in this.' Vitellius reached over the side of his bed and flicked his neckerchief over to her. 'Best that you keep it with you, well-hidden, until the banquet. It's the kind of thing some people might kill for.'
'It will be safe with me. I promise.'
'I know it will, my sweet. Now you must go.'
After Lavinia had left the tent, Vitellius stretched out on the bed with a smug expression of satisfaction. It had not been so very difficult to arrange after all. When the slave girl was presented to the Emperor at the banquet, the expressions on the faces of Vespasian and his wife would be priceless.
It was a shame that Lavinia could not be allowed to live. She was a most accomplished lover and showed a sophistication in the more esoteric arts of love well beyond her teenage years. She might have looked good on his arm back in Rome, a trophy to dangle in front of his peers, and a tool for buying favours. But in using her to get the dagger into the banqueting hall, Vitellius realised she would know enough to place him in danger. If his plan succeeded, she would realise at once that she had been used. As yet, he still did not know the identity of the assassin Caratacus had found for the job – thanks to that fool Nisus. Caratacus might yet get a message through to him, but if he did not, Vitellius could only hope that the killer would make himself known so that he could be given the dagger. Failing that, the knife would have to be presented as a gift after all. But one thing was certain, assassination or no assassination, Lavinia could not be permitted to know what she knew and live to tell the tale.
She must die as soon as she had served his purpose. He would be sorry to lose her but, Vitellius comforted himself, there would be other women.
Chapter Fifty-Two
The assembly ground was growing quiet now that the tail end of the procession had marched out of the camp and down the track towards Camulodunum. Distant cheering and the sound of trumpets still carried across the endless ridges of section tents. Flower petals and trampled garlands lay strewn across the hard-packed turf, and lifted in flurries as the wind gusted through the camp. Above, scattered grey clouds scudded across the sky and threatened rain.
A number of people were still milling around the assembly ground in small groups, Romans and townspeople alike. The latter had come to witness the start of the celebrations as Claudius formally saluted the achievement of his legions while they marched past, cohort after cohort, equipment and uniforms bright and clean after many hours of bullshine. Now the legions had been dismissed. The Emperor and the standards were marching in procession through the rough streets of Camulodunum, under the protection of the Praetorian Guard units. As their new masters passed by, the Britons lining the route watched with the sullen resentment of a conquered people.
Cato approached the assembly ground along the via Praetoria, having left his armour and weapons in his tent. Shortly before the Sixth Century had formed up for the parade he had received a message from Lavinia. She had asked him to meet her outside the headquarters tents after the procession had moved on into the town. The message had been short and terse, with no indication of what she wanted to say to him, nor any personal endearment.
He entered the assembly ground and made his way towards headquarters looking for her. He spotted her quickly, sitting alone on one of the wooden benches that had been erected on the turf bank raised between the tent and the assembly ground. She was not looking out for him, but seemed to be examining something cradled on her lap in the folds of her tunic. As Cato approached her from the side he saw the glint of red and gold before she was aware of him, and quickly bundled the object away in a scarlet neckerchief.
'Cato! There you are!' She spoke with a nervous edge to her voice. 'Come and sit down beside me.'
He slowly sat down, keeping a distance between them. She made no attempt to close the gap as she would have done at once not so very long ago. She remained silent for a moment, unwilling to meet his gaze. Eventually Cato could take it no more.
'Well, what did you want to say to me?'
Lavinia looked at him with a kindly expression that was perilously close to pity. 'I don't know quite how to say what I'm about to say, so please don't interrupt.'
Cato nodded, and swallowed nervously.
'I've been thinking a lot about us the last few days, about how far apart our worlds are. You're a soldier, and a good one according to my mistress. I'm just a house slave. Neither of us have particularly good prospects, and that means we'll never be able to spend much time together… You can see what I'm saying?'
'Oh yes! I'm dumped. Pretty way of putting it but the punchline's the same.'
'Cato! Don't take it like that.'
'How should I take it? Rationally? Put all my feelings aside and see how reasonable you're being?'
'Something like that,' Lavinia replied gently. 'It's better than getting worked up like this.'
'You think this is worked up?' Cato replied, face drained of blood as love, bitterness and rage surged through his heart. 'I might have guessed this is how it would end. I was warned about you. I should have listened, but you just used me. '
'I used you? I don't recall any complaints about the way I was treating you that night in Rutupiae. I fancied you, Cato. That's all. Everything else is just what you've read into the situation. Now we've both had our fun it's time to move on.'
'That's all? Are you quite certain? I mean, there's nothing else I should be told?'
'What are you talking about?' Lavinia looked
at him warily.
'I don't really know,' Cato responded coldly. 'l just thought you might mention something about the new man in your life.'
'New man?'
'Sorry, I should have said the renewal of a relationship with the man in your life.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Really? I'd have thought your little sessions with Tribune Vitellius would have been more memorable than that. I'm sure he'd be most hurt to think that he could slip your mind so easily.' Cato clenched his fist, and to avoid the impulse to hit Lavinia he tucked it into his tunic, found Nisus' bandage and wound his hand tightly into its folds. He drew it out and stared at it dully. Lavinia glanced down nervously at the bandage, and recoiled slightly, shifting her position on the bench so that she created more space between them.
'Very well, Cato. Since you insist on being hurt I'll tell you everything.'
'That would be a nice change. '
She ignored his sarcasm and met his look of burning hatred with a cold expression. 'I knew Vitellius before I knew you. I wouldn't say we were lovers. I had feelings for him but I doubt he returned them, at first. But in time his love grew, and then that idiot Plinius discovered us and wrecked everything. Then I met you.'
'And thought, here's someone I can use.'
'Think what you like, Cato,' said Lavinia, and shrugged. 'At the time, whatever security I had in the world had been shattered. I was afraid and alone, and Ijust wanted some kind of support. When I saw that you had taken to me, I jumped at you. '
'If you want to be strictly accurate, the preposition isn't necessary.' Lavinia glared at him, and shook her head slowly. 'That's so typical of you. Always the smart-arse comment. And you really think that's endearing?'
'Not supposed to be. Not now.'
'Not ever. I can't tell you how sickening I've found it playing the naive young illiterate slave girl. '
'I wondered where the sudden expansion in word power had come from. It must have rubbed off from the tribune.'
'Cato! Will you stop being so horrible!'
They glared at each other for a moment, before Cato's gaze wavered and he looked down at the bandage he had been winding round his arm. He froze as he stared at it.
'I did like you,' Lavinia continued as gently as she could. 'I really did, in a way, but the feelings I had for Vitellius were much deeper, and when he… Cuto?'
Cato was frantically shuffling the bandage round his arm and was not listening.
'Cato? What's the matter?'
'B… e… l ' he read out quietly as the marks on the bandage began to align. ' I… 0… n… i… u… s. Bellonius.'
Bellonius. Cato frowned at the name before he recalled three tribal representatives who had been formally presented to Claudius at the start of the morning's ceremony. He jumped up, looking around, and hurried over to the footrail that ran along the line of benches. Lavinia watched him in amazement. Quickly unwinding the bandage from his hand, Cato began to wrap it carefully round the rail, adjusting the alignment as he went along, working his way back from the end of the message.
'Cato! What are you doing?'
'Saving the Emperor's life!' he replied excitedly as he continued towards the end of the bandage, reading as he went along. 'Here, give me a hand!'
Lavinia watched Cato with a mixture of frustration and bewilderment.
Then, with ashake of her head, she crouched by the footrail and carefully rolled the rest of the bandage round the pole. Squatting down, Lavinia slowly read through the message, making careful adjustments to the bandage to align the words more precisely. She frowned as she tried to understand what had so excited Cato. As she glanced over the opening section, her eyes froze on a Roman name.
'Oh no.'
'What is it?'
'Nothing,' Lavinia replied, unable to conceal a tremor in her voice. Cato pushed her back and leaned over the rail. Behind him Lavinia bent down. Before he found the phrase that had so alarmed her, he sensed a sudden motion and looked up – just in time to see Lavinia swing her arm in towards the side of his head. In her hand was a large round rock.
There was no time to duck, or raise an arm. The stone crashed against the side of his skull, the world exploded into a brilliant white before turning into the pitch black of unconsciousness.
'Come on, lad!'
Cato was dimly aware that someone was shaking him, very roughly.
The darkness was slowly thinning into a milky blur, and his head felt thick, like a lump of wood. Slowly his reason returned to him. He groaned. 'That's it! Wake up, Cato!'
His eyes flickered open, took a moment to focus, and he saw the familiar coarse features of Centurion Macro looming over him, Macro gripped him under the arms and raised him into a sitting position. 'Ouch!' Cato raised a hand to the side of his head, and winced as his fingers touched a bump the size of a small egg. 'What the hell happened to you?'
'Not sure,' Cato mumbled, still muzzy-headed. Then the jumble of events resolved themselves very quickly.
'Lavinia! She's got the bandage!'
'To Vitellius. It has to be him. He has to be the one that's plotting with the Britons.'
'Up to the same old tricks again,' sighed Macro. 'That fellow could really use a sword between the shoulder blades on a dark night. We'd better see if we can find Lavinia. Let's go.'
They ran back to the area of the vast encampment allotted to the Second Legion, and made for the line of officers' tents. The senior tribune's tent stood at the end of the line, nearest to the legion's headquarters, and the two guards assigned to Vitellius stood at the fringe of the awning, hands on shield rims and spears grounded. As Cato and his centurion approached the guards, Macro smiled good-naturedly, and raised his hand in greeting
'All right, lads?' They nodded warily. 'Tribune at home?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Tell him he's got some guests.'
'Sorry, sir, can't do that. Strict orders. He's entertaining and not to be disturbed. '
'I see. Entertaining.' Macro winked at them. 'Wouldn't be entertaining some young dark-haired piece, by any chance?' The guards exchanged a quick glance.
'Thought so.'
Cato felt sick. Lavinia was here, in his tent, being 'entertained'.
Suddenly he was striding towards the entrance, bent on doing murder.
'Lavinia' Get out here!' One of the guards, trained to react instantly to any threat to those he guarded, dropped his spear and thrust it between Cato's legs. The optio caught his shin against it, tripped and tumbled over. Before he could react, the guard was standing over him, spear tip pointed dangerously close to his throat.
'Easy there!' Macro calmed the guard. 'Easy. The boy's no threat.
The flap flicked open and Tribune Vitellius, in a silk gown. ducked outside, bellowing angrily, 'What's all the bloody commotion?' He caught sight of Cato sprawled on the ground and Macro standing to one side of the guard who was threatening to impale the youth.
'Well! If it isn't my Nemesis and his little acolyte! What can I do for you, gentlemen? Keep it brief. I have a rather ravishing young girl waiting.
The calculated remark had its desired effect, and Cato grabbed the shaft of the spear above him and wrenched it from the guard. He thrust the butt back into the man's face and caught a sharp crack on the forehead, stunning him. Before the other guard could react, Cato had sprung to his feet and hefted the spear, ready to thrust it into the tribune's guts. But he never made it. A quick kick to the back of one of his knees floored him again. But this time his body was covered and held down by another.
'Stay down!' Macro hissed in his ear. 'You fucking hear me?'
Cato tried to struggle, and was quickly kneed in the groin. He doubled up in agony and felt sure he was going to throw up. Macro quickly got back on his feet.
'Sorry about that, the Lad's been under a lot of strain lately.'
'That's all right, Centurion,' Cato heard Vitellius reply. 'Nasty cut he's got on his head. I'd lend you a bandage,
only I've just burnt the last of mine… '
There was a moment's silence; even Cato stopped struggling. Then Macro pulled him to his feet and thrust him away from the tribune. 'Sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I'll see to it that the lad doesn't bother you again.'
'Think nothing of it,' Vitellius replied flatly.
'Let's be going,' Macro said sharply and pushed Cato away from the tent. 'That'll teach you to disrespect our officers!'
As they passed out of earshot, Macro leaned close to Cato and hissed, 'You were bloody lucky to get out of that alive. From now on you listen to me and obey me.'
'But the Emperor-'
'Shut up, you fool! Can't you see he was trying to make you hit him?
You know what the penalty is for assaulting an officer. You want to be crucified? No? Just keep quiet then.'
Once they were out of sight of Vitellius, Macro grabbed the collar of Cato's tunic and pulled him close. 'Cato! Get a grip! We've got to do something. The banquet'll be starting soon, and we've got to find some way of stopping Vitellius.'
'Fuck Vitellius,' mumbled Cato.
'Later. Right now we've got to save the Emperor.'
Chapter Fifty-Three
'Not bad,' commented Vespasian, mouth full of the salty pastry. 'Not bad at all.'
'Careful, those crumbs are going everywhere.' Flavia brushed them off the folds of her husband's tunic. 'Honestly, you'd think a grown man would spend just a little more time thinking about the consequences of what he chooses to eat.'
'Don't blame me, blame him.' Vespasian waved the pastry over towards Narcissus who was standing to one side of the Emperor's table while his master picked at a plate of garlic mushrooms. 'He decided on the menu, and he's done a first-rate job. What is this anyway?'
Flavia picked up one of the pastries and sniffed it with the refined contempt of those raised to look down their noses on the efforts of others. 'It's venison -left to hang a little longer than necessary, I might add pand marinated in fish pickle sauce before being shredded, mixed with herbs and flour, and baked.'
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