The crossroads brotherhood (vespasian)

by Robert Fabbi

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I need you to fuck one of my girls.’

  Aelianus sighed melodramatically and shook his head slowly. ‘Magnus, you’re a hard taskmaster.’

  The Forum Romanum was packed — three treason trials were being conducted simultaneously, part of a recent upsurge in the legal hounding of enemies of the emperor or the rivals of his praetorian prefect. To Magnus, how the equestrian or senatorial classes treated each other meant nothing, provided it did not affect the daily running of the city’s institutions that were close to his heart: the games and the grain dole.

  Pushing his way through the mass of spectators, food vendors, beggars and jurists Magnus eventually came to the steps of the Curia, the Senate House. The doors were open and the senate was in session. Magnus peered into the gloomy interior and, once his eyes had adjusted to the light, soon made out the corpulent figure of Gaius Vespasius Pollo. Knowing that he had no right to enter the building he descended the steps, bought a grilled sausage and a hunk of bread from a street vendor and settled down to wait.

  Prodded by a red-shoed foot, Magnus awoke to the booming voice of Gaius. ‘Sleeping on the senate house steps like some vagrant? Have your brethren finally kicked you out as you did your predecessor?’

  ‘Yeah, but less violently it would seem, seeing as I’m still alive.’ Magnus grinned and got to his feet, rubbing his numb behind. ‘Actually I was waiting for you, Senator.’

  ‘Is there a problem with our business? It’s meant to be done by tomorrow at the latest.’

  ‘Not as such. I have a question for you.’

  ‘Walk with me,’ Gaius requested, turning right along the front of the Curia, heading for the Quirinal.

  Magnus fell in step and explained Servius’ plan.

  ‘I see,’ Gaius mused as they started to climb the hill. ‘That counsellor of yours is shrewd. Suspicious circumstances, very good.’

  ‘So what do you know about this Blandinus? What doesn’t he do?’

  ‘I’m afraid he does most things: goes to the games and the theatre, he drinks, he gambles, he goes whoring; in fact he frequents an establishment in your area, owned by Terentius.’

  ‘But that’s just boys; does he like women?’

  ‘I think so; he’s married and has children.’

  Magnus looked disappointed. ‘There must be something that he wouldn’t be seen dead doing.’

  Gaius’ flabby face, glistening with sweat from the exertion of the uphill walk, suddenly brightened. ‘Of course there is: men!’

  ‘Men?’

  ‘Yes, men. I can almost guarantee you that he has never even contemplated being buggered, let alone countenanced it.’

  Magnus smiled. ‘Of course; so simple that it was too obvious. Thank you Senator, I’d best be going.’

  ‘Won’t you have some honeyed cakes and wine, we’re almost at my house?’

  ‘No time Senator, I’ve got a lot to organise; it seems that I can wash two tunics in one tub.’ He ran off leaving Gaius wondering just what he had been talking about.

  ‘BRING IT FORWARD to dawn tomorrow?’ Servius asked throwing a handful of kindling onto the small fire on the altar of the Crossroads’ lares next to the front door of the tavern.

  Magnus sprinkled incense over the flame; it flared, giving off a pungent aroma. ‘Yes, provided Terentius, with the good help of our lares, can entice Blandinus to his place this evening. Send one of the lads to fetch him here immediately.’

  The counsellor nodded and went over to Marius and a group of the brothers sitting playing dice on one of the tables outside the tavern. After a brief word from Servius one of them got up and left.

  ‘What about the gear?’ Servius asked returning to Magnus by the altar.

  ‘That’ll be here tonight but I want you to write a note to Aelianus telling him that I need his fire to happen one hour before dawn tomorrow, not the next day; ask him to acknowledge that in writing.’

  ‘I’ll do that now.’

  ‘What about Tigran, any luck?’

  ‘Yes, he’s waiting inside to see you; he’s very keen to repay the favour. He speaks a little Albanian but he’s brought his cousin, Vahram, who’s fluent.’

  ‘Thank you Brother,’ Magnus said looking up the Alta Semita towards the Porta Collina. A party of travellers caught his eye. ‘Marius, take one of the lads and do the honours with that lot,’ he said pointing at the group. ‘They look wealthy enough to be in need of our services.’

  Marius grinned and got up from his game. ‘Right you are Magnus. Normal rate?’

  ‘Yeah, normal rate.’

  Marius slapped his neighbour on the back. ‘Come on Lucio, let’s get busy.’

  Magnus sat down at an empty table watching the two brothers waylay the travellers and offer their protection whilst mulling over the plan for the night in his head; he knew that it was risky bringing the raid on the Albanians forward but it was too good an opportunity to miss and he smiled to himself as he thought of how Blandinus was to be found. Poor bastard.

  Eventually a cough brought him out of his reverie; he looked up. ‘Ah, Terentius; sit down my friend. How’s that boy?’

  ‘Still passing blood, so I’ve had to put him on lighter duties,’ the whore-boy master replied, elegantly placing himself on the bench opposite Magnus. Out in the street money was changing hands.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear it. Do you know the Praetorian Tribune Blandinus?’

  ‘Of course, he’s one of my regulars.’

  ‘Does he ever, how shall I put it, take his turn around?’

  ‘No never; some of our clients ask for that but never Blandinus. He only gives and he gives very well; I can personally vouch for that.’ A misty-look came into Terentius’ eyes that Magnus found disconcerting.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Will he be coming this evening?’

  ‘I don’t know, he comes most evenings. Why?’

  ‘I need you to ensure that he comes this evening.’

  ‘I suppose I could send him a note saying that I’ve got a new boy that may be to his taste.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve had to replace the ones that were cut up.’

  ‘Then do that and when he comes I need you to drug him; can you do that too?’

  Terentius looked uneasy and hesitated. ‘Of course,’ he answered after a few moments.

  ‘You seem reluctant?’

  ‘No Magnus, I’ll do it.’

  ‘Good. Send me a message when it’s done and keep him sedated until I pick him up.’

  ‘What’s this for?’

  ‘Terentius my friend, it’s part of something that will make you very happy.’

  Out in the street Marius and a group of brothers led the now very well protected travellers off.

  Night had fallen and the tavern was packed. Magnus sat in a corner watching Aquilina and her fellow whores plying their trade. Tigran and his cousin looked to be enjoying their wait for the night’s mission.

  Servius slipped onto the bench next to Magnus. ‘The lads have left for the Cohort’s depot.’

  ‘They should be back in an hour then. Any news from Terentius?’

  ‘Nothing yet, but Aelianus sent a message saying that he can do the fire tonight.’

  Magnus nodded. ‘Well that’s something. I suppose if Terentius fucks up then we could postpone it until tomorrow night, although the Senator won’t be happy about it.’

  ‘What are you going to do about her?’ Servius asked as Aquilina led another customer outside. The ever watchful Jovita made a mark in her ledger.

  ‘Use her to deliver a message and then… well we’ll see.’

  ‘I assume this message is for Sempronius.’

  ‘Exactly Brother. When my mate Aelianus comes with the gear tonight I’m going to make a big fuss about him and offer him a girl and the use of my room. He’s going to let a piece of pillow-talk drop.’

  Servius smiled coldly. ‘And she’ll run straight to Sempronius wi
th this titbit.’

  Magnus grinned and watched a young slave come through the door. The boy would have been pretty, had it not been for an ugly, badly-stitched wound running from left corner of his mouth to his ear. He walked over to Jovita and after a brief conversation was directed over to Magnus’ corner.

  ‘Magnus?’ the youth asked, speaking with some difficulty. He held out a wax tablet.

  Magnus inclined his head.

  ‘My master, Terentius, sent this.’

  Magnus took the tablet and gave it to Servius to read.

  The counsellor glanced at it briefly. ‘Our tribune is sleeping peacefully.’

  A look of relief spread over Magnus’ face. ‘Excellent. Tell your master we’ll be along in three hours.’

  The slave bowed and slipped out of the room.

  ‘Make sure all the lads are here within the hour, Brother,’ Magnus said getting to his feet.

  ‘They will be.’

  ‘And the first delivery?’

  ‘Already here.’

  ‘Pile them up over there in the corner, next to the ladders,’ Magnus ordered as Aelianus and four brothers pushed a couple of laden handcarts off the street and through the double doors of the storeroom at the very rear of the tavern.

  Within moments the doors were shut and a pile of twenty Urban Cohort uniforms, minus the armour and shields, lay in a heap on the floor.

  ‘Right lads, sort it all out into twenty sets,’ Magnus said, putting his arm around Aelianus’ shoulders. ‘You, my friend, are coming with me to fuck the best-looking girl we have working here, and all for free.’

  ‘What’s the catch, mate?’

  ‘No catch, I just want you to tell her what the Cohort are planning to do in three nights’ time.’

  ‘I don’t know what we’re planning in three nights’ time.’

  ‘Of course you don’t, quite rightly you take no interest in the doings of your unit, but I shall enlighten you as we walk.’

  ‘Aquilina, come and meet my very good friend and one-time comrade, Aelianus,’ Magnus shouted as he led the quartermaster through the door into the fug of the tavern.

  Aquilina disengaged herself from a disgruntled old man and walked through the crowded room. A plumper colleague took her place.

  ‘Aelianus has just done me a huge favour,’ Magnus informed her as she came up to them, smiling sweetly, ‘and I want you to be very, very nice to him. I’m paying so anything he wants, if you take my meaning?’

  ‘Oh I do Magnus,’ Aquilina ran her hand up the inside of Aelianus’ thigh. ‘Anything he likes, for as long as he likes.’ Aelinaus’ mouth fell open as he gawped at her with undisguised lust. ‘But there’s no need to pay me Magnus — any friend of yours is a friend of mine.’

  ‘If you insist.’

  ‘It’ll be a pleasure.’

  ‘In that case you can use my room.’

  ‘Thank you Magnus,’ Aquilina purred leading Aelianus off and flashing Magnus a sweet smile over her shoulder.

  As they disappeared through the door, his eyes hardened. It was almost a shame that she was going to have to lose that pretty smile.

  ALMOST AN HOUR later, Magnus was sitting in the back room when he heard footsteps on the bare wooden stairs coming down from the first floor. He put down the knife that he had been sharpening and looked at Servius. ‘Seems like Aelianus has had his fill of Aquilina.’

  ‘I would say that it is probably the other way around, Brother.’

  ‘Yeah, too true,’ Magnus laughed, getting up. ‘Let’s hope that he’s still got the energy for a bit of fire-starting.’ He opened the door and, stepping out into the dingy corridor, saw Aquilina appear at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Your friend has quite worn me out, Magnus,’ she said with a touch of exaggeration, ‘I’m going to call it a night, if that’s alright with you?’

  ‘Nothing to do with me, my girl — you work as and when you want to, so long as you pay your percentage.’

  Aquilina smiled brightly. ‘Of course. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ She disappeared into the tavern with a little wave.

  Servius joined Magnus. ‘Do you want me to have her followed?’

  ‘No, she might notice, and it wouldn’t do for her to become suspicious. Anyway, we know where she’s going.’

  Aelianus lumbered down the stairs looking conspicuously florid. What was left of his ginger hair stuck out at odd angles.

  ‘How did it go?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘Very well,’ Aelianus replied with a grin, ‘I surprised myself and, I like to think, the lovely Aquilina too. You heard her — she said that she wouldn’t be able to have another customer for the rest of the night after my performance.’

  ‘Yeah? Well don’t take it too hard but that was just her excuse to get out of here and go and tell a few tales to her real master. I meant how was the pillow-talk?’

  Aelianus looked slightly downcast. ‘It was fine. I told her that I’d come to warn you, as an old mate from the Cohort, that the Urban Prefect was planning a raid on one of your clients’ establishments in a few days time, someone called Terentius. That’s why you wanted me to have her as a reward.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Well after that she started saying that I must be very important to have that sort of information and how much important men like me excited her…What she can do with her-’

  ‘I know mate,’ Magnus cut in, ‘I’ve had her too. Just tell me the part I need to know.’

  ‘Sorry. Well she carried on asking me about the Cohort and the raid… you know… now and again… until I told her that it wasn’t to be the first raid, there was going to be one in three days time on an establishment on the Viminal owned by easterners.’

  ‘And she swallowed it?’

  Aelianus raised his eyebrows and nodded, grinning. ‘Yeah, all of it.’

  Magnus slapped him on the shoulder. ‘You did well, my friend, I hope you’ll be as successful with the fire.’

  ‘It won’t be a problem Magnus but I’d appreciate a couple of your lads to help me spread some oil.’

  ‘Fine. Come over tomorrow and collect your money.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Oh, and leave those handcarts here, mate.’

  ‘They’re no good to you — they’ve got Cohort insignia branded all over them.’

  ‘I know.’ Magnus turned to his counsellor. ‘Brother, we’ve got work to do. Get a couple of the lads for our good friend here and see him out, and then slowly get the rest moving up to the Lamp-makers’ street in twos and threes. I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours.’

  THE TWO DOORMEN outside Terentius’ establishment were equally as large as those guarding the Albanians’ place. Magnus, however, had nothing to fear from them as he and his party approached the house awhile later.

  ‘Evening lads, your master’s expecting me,’ he said striding up the worn steps to the door of the elegant marble-fronted house. Torches attached to each of the two columns of the portico illuminated the well-crafted drawing of an erect phallus, above the door, succinctly advertising the business transacted within.

  The doormen immediately stepped aside, one giving a coded knock on the door as he did so. The viewing slot slid back and a pair of eyes perused Magnus for a few moments before the door opened.

  ‘One of you show my boys around the back,’ Magnus ordered, pointing down the steps where Marius and his mates stood with the handcart. Behind them the inevitable night-time parade of carts and wagons rumbled past in both directions. The shouts of the drivers and the clatter of hooves and iron-rimmed wheels filled the cold air, and the moonlit darkness was given substance by wisps of smoke and the breath of both man and beast.

  Once satisfied that his brothers were being taken care of, Magnus walked through the open door into a small vestibule lined with cloaks. He recognised one as that of a Praetorian. He stepped out into an atrium furnished with couches, some empty and some holding youths in various
states of undress. Oil-lamps and the orange flicker of flaming sconces, gave the room a feeling of intimacy and homeliness. The sweet chords of a lyre blended with the gentle patter of a couple of fountains at either end of the impluvium and any conversation between the boys was conducted in a soft murmur.

  A slave in his late twenties, evidently too old to be of interest to most of the clientele but strikingly good-looking nonetheless, proffered Magnus a tray holding cups of wines. He took one at random as Terentius appeared at the far end of the room.

  ‘You honour me with your presence,’ the whore-boy master said formally, walking elegantly through the room, one foot placed exactly before the other, dressed in a woman’s stola. His long auburn hair fell loose to below his shoulders, half-concealing two drop-pearl earrings. Kohl lined his sea-grey eyes, rouge delicately enhanced his cheeks and his lips were painted a soft pinkish-red.

  Really not bad at all, Magnus found himself thinking as he downed his wine, if you like that sort of thing. ‘Thank you Terentius,’ he replied, placing his empty cup back on the tray and helping himself to another. ‘We have business to discuss.’

  ‘Come.’ Terentius beckoned with his left arm and inclining his head so that a few strands of hair fell across his face; with an unhurried brush of his right palm he eased them back into place as he turned and walked back the way he had come. His body swayed sensuously beneath the fine fabric of his stola.

  Magnus followed, glancing left and right at the whore-boys languishing on their couches and realised that Terentius had not been exaggerating about his taste. They were all exquisite but each in a different way, whether it be skin, hair, or physical build; however, they all had one thing in common: they were undeniably beautiful. Each was immaculately turned out, clean and well-groomed and although the perfumes with which they adorned themselves were thicker and headier than those of women, they were still intoxicating.

  Magnus raised his eyebrows and found himself wondering whether he might not take advantage of Terentius’ offer to sample the goods on display. He followed the whore-boy master into a corridor with a slanted ceiling. On one side lay moon-lit windows looking out onto a courtyard garden; on the other, six evenly-spaced doors on with oil-lamps set into a niche in the wall. Four of the lamps were burning.