The Sign of the Eagle

by Jess Steven Hughes

  “Her ceremonial tunic had been pulled above the wound for a clean stabbing.” Bassus shook his head. “Still, it was a grisly affair. She managed to slash herself nearly straight across the torso before slicing upward.”

  Macha shuddered. “How horrible!”

  “Indeed, whatever we might think of Licinia, it took a great deal of courage to end her life so painfully.”

  “What happened next?” Macha asked.

  “Appius had intended to subject the household slaves to torture to ensure they weren’t hiding the truth about Licinia’s death,” Bassus said. “But Antonia told the tribune no slaves had knowledge of Licinia’s death until after her body had been discovered by the first slave.”

  “I’m sure that wouldn’t have stopped Appius from taking the slaves to prison,” Macha said.

  “But she did,” Bassus said. “As the acting Virgo Maxima, Antonia holds the authority to overrule his decision regarding her slaves and counter his order. She identified the bloody dagger as belonging to Pollia after it had been removed from the body.

  “Do you know why Licinia committed suicide?”

  “Antonia said she believed the Virgo Maxima killed herself,” Bassus answered, “because her involvement in the conspiracy had been discovered.”

  "What? The Supreme Vestal involved in the plot against the Emperor?"

  "Yes, I'm certain she was."

  Macha shook her head. "Why? I don't understand."

  "She and Pollia were lovers. The dagger had been a gift from her in appreciation for a sacrifice on an earlier occasion.”

  "Oh, Mother Goddess, what next?" Macha exhaled.

  Bassus crinkled his forehead and looked about. He lowered his voice. "Didn't Antonia tell you?"

  "No, what?"

  "It was Pollia who was threatening Antonia and me with exposure." Bassus grabbed Macha's shoulder. "What's wrong? I thought you were going to faint."

  "Nothing is wrong, Senator," Macha answered in little more than a whisper. She inhaled deeply. "I had my suspicions but until now, I wasn't sure that Pollia was the woman Antonia refused to name."

  "Antonia told me she had confided in you about us, Macha."

  "That's true but she didn't tell me that it was Pollia—I wished she had. Anyway, I’m grateful Antonia stopped Appius from torturing the slaves.”

  “It wasn’t necessary at any rate. Appius examined each slave’s hands and clothing. He found no bloodstains or telltale signs of struggle indicated by punctures or slashes.”

  Macha nodded.

  "I took it upon myself," Bassus continued, "and the Emperor later concurred, to inform the public that Sister Licinia's death by suicide was the result of learning she had an incurable disease. Otherwise, she would have suffered a lingering illness ending her life in great pain."

  "Why did you give out that information?"

  "I don't want our enemies to learn that we know the real truth behind Licinia's death."

  The court chamberlain approached the Senator and Macha. “The Emperor will see the both of you now.”

  Chapter 35

  A Promise by the Emperor

  Seated in his candlelit sparsely-furnished private audience chamber, the peasant-faced Emperor listened as Macha recited the details of the conversation between Falco and Phidias.

  When finished, Vespasian nodded his approval to Bassus and then Macha as they stood before him. “Lady Carataca, you have done us a great service.”

  Before she could respond, the balding monarch raised a hand. He flicked an eyebrow in the direction of the Praetorian Prefect, hovering near the black basalt bust of Augustus. Vespasian scribbled a message on a waxed tablet resting on a bronze-framed table inlaid with ebony wood. He handed the ivory-leafed document to the Prefect.

  “See that the traitors Tribune Falco and the Imperial Secretary, Phidias, are arrested at once,” Vespasian commanded. “Dispatch another detail to the house of Julius Pedius and escort Lady Pollia to the palace immediately. She deserves to rot in Tullianum dungeon but she’ll stay here until we have finished questioning her.” Bassus added he would send a detachment of Praetorians to return Pollia's husband, Julius Pedius, in chains from their estates in Sicily where he had traveled to on business. He turned to Macha, his alert eyes studying her willowy frame for the length of a few heartbeats.

  “If you speak the truth, Lady Carataca, we will release your husband before dawn.”

  “Thank you, Caesar, I’m eternally grateful.” Titus released tomorrow morning! A surge of excitement and relief engulfed Macha. Once again she would be in his arms. Gods, she could almost feel his firm body against hers. It had been such a long time since he had held her as a free man. But what about Young Titus? Except for the awful message containing the thumb of a poor child, there had been no word about their son. Are his captors treating him well? she wondered. He must have been terribly frightened. Was he getting enough to eat? She had heard tales of kidnapped victims being starved or worse.

  A concerned expression on Vespasian's face emphasized the beginnings of a double chin. His barrel-chested body showed only the faintest signs it was starting to sag. His fatherly voice jolted Macha from her thoughts. "Are you all right, my dear?" The Emperor asked.

  “Yes, Caesar, I’m perfectly well,” Macha answered.

  “Good, for a moment you turned pale.”

  Macha’s hand shot to her cheek. The tips of her fingers burned. She had to bring her thoughts about her son and the excitement about Titus’s release under control. “It’s that I am very concerned about my son. You are aware that he was kidnapped?”

  “Indeed, and we’ll do everything in our power to find him.”

  “I appreciate it, Caesar. It’s just I am so afraid he has been harmed, and I keep praying that he has not.”

  The Emperor scowled. “For your sake, I hope you are right. Either way, they’ll pay with their lives.”

  “I know my husband will want to be involved in his search once he is released. I say this because I am telling the truth about Pollia’s involvement.”

  “If that is the case, he’ll be allowed to take part in the search for his son,” Vespasian said.

  He motioned to Bassus. “When Lady Pollia arrives, you’ll conduct the questioning, Senator.”

  “Yes, Caesar.”

  “In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable. Right now, I have another pressing matter requiring my attention. I’m briefing Senator Cornelius Florus, the new governor of Egypt.”

  Puzzled by the abrupt end to the audience, Macha looked toward Bassus. He raised an eyebrow and barely shook his head.

  The Emperor summoned the chamberlain and directed him to escort Macha and Bassus to the triclinium. Shafer followed at a discreet distance behind Macha. Viriatus and the litter bearers were led to the slave’s kitchen to eat. Afterward, they would be sent to a waiting room set aside for slaves whose masters were visiting the palace.

  In the dining area, Bassus ate a light meal of cold chicken and salad and sipped a light Umbrian wine, but Macha barely touched the food or drink.

  “I felt uneasy about imposing on the Emperor,” Macha said a few minutes later, “but I have to ask Pollia a few questions after she’s brought here.”

  Bassus set his cup of wine on the lip of his couch and stared at Macha across the dining table. “You will not speak to her.”

  She raised up on her elbow. “Why not?”

  “This is an Imperial matter. Civilians are forbidden to meddle in the investigation.”

  “I’ve been meddling in this matter since arriving in Rome. Please, Senator, don’t hide behind that guise, now.”

  “I’m concealing nothing,” he replied. “We know Titus is innocent. But until Pollia confesses and Titus is actually released, he still stands as an accused traitor. As the wife of an accused traitor, you cannot ask questions, especially, of another traitor. It’s tantamount to obstruction of justice.”

  Macha wanted to say, Where is Titus' justice? Where
is my son's justice?

  “We’ll ask those questions once she has been arrested. Don’t worry, she’ll confess.”

  “Yes, under torture, Pollia will say anything. If you want the real truth, let me speak to her.”

  “Why would she tell you anything different from the interrogators?” Bassus furrowed his eyebrows and studied her.

  Clinching her fingers, Macha answered, “Don’t you see? Like most patricians, she’s proud of everything she’s done whether it’s good or evil.”

  “I don’t see your point.”

  Macha sighed. “Pollia will know she’s lost the game. Even when punished, she’ll bear the consequences with dignity, as a patrician woman should. But she has to tell someone about her deeds—someone she hates—like me. If I confronted her, she’d take great pleasure in telling me, out of spite, how she had my son kidnapped and Titus arrested for treason. Please, Senator, give me a chance.”

  In the soft light of the dining room, Macha watched as Bassus silently considered the suggestion.

  “Perhaps you could persuade the Emperor to overhear the conversation,” Macha suggested, “If he thinks I’ve gone too far he can stop it.”

  Bassus looked straight through her. “Macha, you can’t be serious. The Emperor would never allow a civilian to question a traitor. The answer is still no.”

  “Doesn’t Vespasian realize you and I are friends?” She placed her feet on the floor and sat on the couch as straight as a sword blade, stood, and paced back and forth in front of Bassus.

  “Doesn’t he consider it a conflict of interest that you’re interviewing Pollia?” she asked.

  “Not the Emperor.” Bassus remained on the couch while his eyes followed Macha’s movements. “He doesn’t trust anyone within the ranks of the Praetorians to properly conduct the interrogation.”

  Macha stopped and searched Bassus' dark eyes for signs of deception. None. “Why not appoint Pomponius Appius? There was a time I would have never considered him impartial, but he has been very helpful, especially while you were at Misenum.”

  “I expected him to fully cooperate.”

  “He believes Titus is innocent?”

  “Indeed, Appius has believed it nearly from the outset.”

  “Mother Goddess!” Stepping to Bassus’ couch, Macha kneeled before him. “Honestly? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Bassus lowered his voice. “I couldn’t until now. There are too many ears in Rome.”

  She shook her head. Why doesn’t the Senator trust me? Macha thought. I wouldn’t have told a soul. At least now I know the truth. Straightening up, she returned to her couch.

  “Unfortunately, Appius couldn’t say it or act as if he did,” Bassus said. “I’ll tell you something, but you must keep it a secret until your husband and son are released.”

  “I promise as Mother Goddess is my witness.”

  “Appius is an Imperial spy in my pay.”

  She sniffed. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Why else did he journey with us to Rome when he was needed by the First Legion? But does he actually hate Titus or was that an act?”

  The Senator took a long swill of Umbrian wine from his golden cup. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and set the cup on the table. “He had no love for your husband and was jealous of Titus’ promotion over him.”

  “Then why did he become your spy?”

  “He knew Titus’ allegiance to Vespasian was as strong as his. He became my man when I promised him a command of his own before leaving for my inspection in the East. At the time I had heard rumors about a conspiracy against the Emperor.”

  “So, you knew?”

  “I had no proof, and my informants had learned nothing further. So, I told Appius to keep his eyes open, and send me weekly reports. I never doubted Titus’ loyalty, but the initial evidence appeared overwhelming, and I’ve had to tread carefully, not showing favoritism.”

  “But why couldn’t you tell me?”

  “I had to be certain that he was not a traitor. And there were persons, such as Pedius, with more influence that I, who had caught the Emperor’s ear. I had to obtain solid information before Titus could be cleared of all charges; now I think I have it.”

  “Do you mean the conversation we overheard this afternoon?”

  Bassus nodded. “Since three of you overheard it, that is damning enough to keep Titus from being the public strangler’s next victim.”

  "Are you sure? I am the wife of an accused traitor. Clodia is a Plebian, and Shafer is a slave."

  "It is enough. You and Clodia are the wives of Roman Citizens, and I see no need to torture Shafer to give evidence."

  “Praise Mother Goddess, but aren't you afraid Pollia will threaten to expose you and Antonia?"

  He snorted. "If she does, I will advise her that no one will heed the word of a traitor. I will also say that I have forewarned the Emperor of her lies."

  "What if she doesn't believe you?"

  "I'll tell her Vespasian doesn't believe slanderous tales about his sacred Vestal Virgins. And I will make certain she never gets the chance to see him," he added in a menacing voice.

  "I pray you are convincing." Macha frowned. She wasn't as confident as Bassus, but kept the opinion to herself.

  “Regardless, once Pollia has been arrested you will stay away from her.”

  Knowing it would be futile, Macha didn’t argue with Bassus any further. “Very well, Senator, I shall comply.”

  “Yes, you will,” he said in a sinister growl.

  The Senator’s answer placed Macha on alert. She didn’t like his tone of voice. “What do you mean? I said I would.”

  “To guarantee that you won’t interfere, I’m sending you back to my house under Praetorian escort.”

  Macha gasped. “What? How dare you! I thought you trusted me.”

  “I’m sorry, Macha, I won’t take further chances. You’ve broken promises before. You will stay at my home until I summon you.”

  The detail of twenty Praetorians escorted Macha and her retinue from the palace. I’ll find a way to return and confront Pollia in spite of him, Macha thought furiously.

  Chapter 36

  Escape

  Macha arrived at Bassus' home, still angry that he had ordered her confined to his house. As she stepped out of the litter, the Centurion in charge approached her. “You’re to stay in Senator Bassus’ house until he sends for you,” he said, as though she didn’t know.

  “And when will that be?” Macha asked.

  “My orders are to make sure you don’t leave,” the broken nose officer answered.

  She noticed the detail of Praetorians still encircled the sedan. "What does that mean?"

  “You’ll see.” He motioned to the troops to follow him and left Macha standing in the street. Appalled and disgusted, she watched as the troops surrounded the outside of the Senator’s home.

  What now? she wondered. Followed by Shafer and Viriatus, Macha went indoors and proceeded to the impluvium where she sat down in a wicker chair. Bending slightly at the waist, she placed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. What now? Although the hour was late, she wasn’t sleepy. She pondered her dilemma in silence, staring at the square-shaped pond in the center of the room. Flames ebbed and flared from the light of oil lamps illuminating the room. Thin strands of smoke wafted toward the ceiling opening, through which rain, in stormy weather, fell to the pool below.

  Opening her eyes, she straightened and motioned to Shafer and Viriatus, who hovered nearby, to take a seat on the marble bench across from her.

  “I must return to the palace to question Pollia,” Macha said, “She knows where my son is held captive, but with the Praetorians patrolling outside, escape is impossible.” She sighed from the depth of her being. “And I have no idea if that wretched woman has even been arrested.”

  The slaves eyed one another. Shafer nodded.

  “Mistress Carataca,” Viriatus said in a low voice, “there’s a
secret passage leading out of the Senator’s home.”

  Jolted by the revelation, Macha stared wide-eyed at the Spaniard. “Are you certain? I’ve heard of no such passage.”

  “It’s true, Mistress,” Viriatus replied.

  Macha stood, walked around the impluvium and stopped at the entry leading to the atrium. She moved to the exit and scanned the hallway. No one in sight. She stepped to the edge of the basin and motioned for Shafer and Viriatus to join her. “Tell me more,” Macha whispered. “Keep your voices down.”

  “It’s behind the clothing cabinet in the Master’s bed cubicle,” Shafer said.

  “Who told you about it?” Macha asked.

  “I discovered it one day when cleaning the Master’s room.” Shafer glanced to the Impluvium’s exit, the direction of the Senator’s bed cubicle. “I saw a rat scoot out from beneath the bed and it ran behind his clothing cabinet. He hates rats, so I had to find a way of getting rid of it.”

  “But that’s a large cabinet,” Macha said, “I’ve walked by his room and could see it through the door. How did you move it?”

  “I helped her,” Viriatus said.

  “Viriatus is very strong.” A smiling Shafer turned and nearly touched his muscular shoulder with her finger. “I knew he could move it, and I had to find where the rat came from. If there was a hole, it had to be blocked.”

  Macha studied the two slaves, puzzled by Shafer’s move. Again she wondered if there was something romantic going on between the two of them. This was not the time to ask questions.

  “Did you move it?” Macha asked the Spaniard.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  A sense of relief filled Macha’s being. Thank Mother Goddess, there is a way out of here. “I must go to the palace, at once,” she said.

  “But Mistress, you said yourself you don’t know when they will bring Lady Pollia to the Emperor’s home,” Shafer said.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Viriatus said.

  “How?” Macha raised her hand.

  “I’ll send retainers I trust to watch the palace.” The auburn-haired Spaniard gestured as if it were obvious. “They’ll keep an eye on all the gates.”