‘There he is,’ Magnus said, spotting the rotund figure of his patron amongst the elite of Rome, many of whom had not dissimilar physiques. ‘Senator Pollo! Senator Pollo!’ He shoved his way through to the front of the crowd, continually shouting until the senator heard his name and turned towards him.
‘What is it, Magnus? We’re just about to start the procession.’
‘I need a favour.’
‘Now?’
‘Now is the perfect time, sir.’
The senator mopped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and looked up the length of the steep Gemonian Steps. ‘Very well. I’ve never enjoyed climbing to the summit of the Capitoline. What is it you want?’
‘For some reason Barbatus has taken my second, Tigran, into custody; but it’s not to the Quirinal Vigiles depot that they’ve taken him – it’s to the Tullianum.’
‘The prison? Are you sure?’
‘Yes, we followed them down here; he’s in there all right.’
‘What do you expect me to do about it?’
‘Barbatus took him in and I don’t think he’s come out yet. You need to get me in, sir. Trust me, it’ll be for your benefit as well as mine.’
The door of the Tullianum, just at the bottom of the Gemonian Steps, creaked open a fraction and an eye peered out. ‘Yes?’
Senator Pollo puffed himself up with self-importance. ‘My name is Senator Gaius Vespasius Pollo and I have reason to believe that the aedile for the Quirinal is within. I wish to speak to him.’
‘He’s busy.’
Senator Pollo’s jowls wobbled in indignation. ‘Busy? My man, I can assure you that he’s not too busy to see me. Now let me pass.’ He pushed at the door. There were a few moments of resistance before it was released and he walked in with Magnus following, leaving Lupus, the bright sun and the festival spirit of the outside world far behind.
Magnus closed his eyes to adjust them to the gloom of the low-ceilinged interior; a couple of oil lamps on a crude table and a sputtering torch in a holder, on one soot-stained wall, provided the only light. It was, however, enough to see Tigran stretched out on the rack, his limbs taut as the wheel was tightened by a hirsute youth, with a face so flat that it seemed to Magnus that he had been repeatedly smashed against a brick wall.
Barbatus stood over Tigran, brandishing a scroll. ‘What is it, senator?’
It was Magnus who answered, stepping out from the senator’s shadow. ‘What has he done, aedile?’
‘Magnus! I’ve got men out searching for you. I’m pleased that you’ve come to me of your own accord.’ Barbatus held out the scroll. ‘This is a horoscope; we found this in Tigran’s room along with that scabbard.’ He gestured to the scabbard lying on the table next to the lamp. ‘The metalwork of which exactly matches the knife we found under Tuscus. What’s more, the knife is Eastern in its appearance, just like this piece of shit. He murdered Tuscus and now I want to know where the rest of the missing charts are.’
‘I didn’t, Magnus,’ Tigran said through gritted teeth. ‘The horoscope and the scabbard were planted; I don’t know who by. But he’s wasting his time with me. Tell him.’
Magnus looked suitably confused. ‘But aedile, I thought you raided Sempronius’ house for the charts.’
‘We did and your information was wrong; they weren’t there.’
This time Magnus’ surprise was genuine and he now understood why Tigran had been brought to the prison for questioning. ‘They weren’t there? Did you look everywhere?’
‘We’re still looking and we’re also now searching the West Viminal’s headquarters. The Urban prefect has given orders to tear both places apart and scour the city for Sempronius. What we have found, however, is something so secret that I can’t even admit to having seen it myself, and with it was a South Quirinal Brotherhood amulet, which led me to your tavern, where I found all the evidence I need in this Eastern shit’s room. It looks like you’re being circumvented by a subordinate, Magnus. I’d say you’ve got a bit of a problem.’ Barbatus looked back down at Tigran. ‘I’ll ask one more time: where are the charts?’
‘I don’t know!’
‘Believe me, I’ll squeeze the hiding place out of you or you’ll be as dead as one of those dogs being paraded outside.’ Barbatus nodded to the hirsute youth. ‘Another couple of clicks, Beauty.’
Beauty nodded furiously in understanding, delight at the order written all over his flat, down-covered face. He heaved on the wheel, putting his whole strength into turning it. The leather straps about Tigran’s wrists and legs cut into his skin even more and blood started to seep from beneath them. The rack clicked into its new extension as Tigran’s face contorted in agony.
Magnus visualised the two dogs coming out of Sempronius’ house earlier; one struggling, one not. It was a moment of clarity. ‘Stop!’ he shouted, stepping forward. Beauty ignored the order until Barbatus cuffed him about the ear. ‘You’re mistaken, aedile; they can’t be in Tigran’s possession. He’s definitely been set up.’
Barbatus looked unimpressed. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because I’ve realised where they must be.’
‘Where?’
‘Take him off the rack and I’ll fetch them, but I need Tigran to come too.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ll need help and I’ve only got one other man with me.’ He turned to Senator Pollo. ‘Sir, you might suggest to the Urban prefect that he would be wise to have a century of one of the Urban Cohorts standing by in the Forum Boarium, near the Circus Maximus gates. Have them use “dead dog” as a password. He might like to be on hand too; it’ll be much to his benefit.’
‘And to mine as well, I hope, Magnus.’
‘Very much to yours as well, sir. Very much.’
‘Lupus, run and get Cassandros, Sextus and a half dozen of the brothers to meet us, as soon as possible, at the Circus Maximus main gates. And hurry!’ Magnus said as he, Tigran and Senator Pollo walked back out into the sun to where Lupus waited. Lupus nodded and immediately began to forge a way down the Gemonian Steps now filled with people processing up them with howling dogs.
Magnus turned to Tigran, who was rubbing the sores on his wrists. ‘You owe me for getting you off that before any damage was done.’
Tigran spat, rolling his shoulders and limping on pulled ankles. ‘And how do I know that it wasn’t you who planted those things? Someone did, because I’ve never seen that scabbard before, nor that horoscope. As to the amulet leading them to our tavern…’ Tigran looked hard-eyed at Magnus. ‘Was it you? Was that why you wanted to get into Sempronius’ house?’
‘I was looking for something.’
‘Don’t play games with me, Magnus. Did you know about this raid, senator?’
Senator Pollo rumbled with indignation, as if the question had no business being dignified with a reply. ‘I must be getting back to rejoin the senators and find the Urban prefect.’
Magnus quickly covered for the lack of a denial as the senator disappeared into the festival crowds. ‘Well, it wasn’t me, brother; and if you’re sure it wasn’t you then I’ve got a fair idea who it was.’
‘Who?’
‘Tacita.’
‘Tacita? But she was locked up in our place last night having spent most of the day in the Vigiles’ depot.’
‘After she came out of the depot she went to her neighbour’s house and then onto the West Viminal headquarters. Ask Cassandros – he followed her there. She must have had the charts hidden with the neighbour, retrieved one of them and then delivered it with the amulet, which at some point she’d filched, to Sempronius or one of his men. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, brother, because we’re going to get them back and buy your dispensation for Tuscus’ murder.’
‘I didn’t murder Tuscus!’
‘Really? The evidence suggests the contrary.’
‘It was planted!’
‘If you say so; but the aedile is going to take some convincing. Getting the chart
s back will greatly help your case, if you take my meaning?’
Tigran stopped suddenly. ‘You bastard! It’s you, isn’t it? Barbatus said that you and he found the knife together. You placed the knife under Tuscus and then put the scabbard in my room, along with the horoscope. Of course! You didn’t want to look for something in Sempronius’ desk; you wanted to put something in it: the amulet.’ Tigran grabbed Magnus by the collar of his tunic. ‘Don’t give me all that shit about Tacita. She’s nothing to do with it now; she’s out of the game. It’s you, just you, Magnus. I should gut you here and now, you treacherous cunt.’
Magnus put his palms up in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Now, now, Tigran. Whatever you may think I did doesn’t actually make a bit of difference to the fact that, as far as the aedile is concerned, you are guilty of murder. The evidence was found in your room on a raid and an amulet connecting you to the theft of the charts of some very influential people has also found its way into his hands, thus corroborating, in his mind, what he suspects.’ Magnus grabbed Tigran’s wrist and jerked it from its grip. His tone became low and threatening. ‘Now, you listen to me, brother: you now need me alive. I was asked to investigate the murder and theft, and so I have done; it’s just that I’ve made the results suit my purposes rather than have any bearing on the truth. Only I can get you out of this. If you kill me, you’ll either have to run as far from Rome as you can or you can stay here for a brief appearance at the next games. Either way, your ambition of gaining a position of influence and respect by succeeding me as the patronus of the South Quirinal Brotherhood will have disappeared. Do we understand each other?’
Tigran held Magnus’ gaze as hatred smouldered in his eyes. ‘I’ll kill you when this is over, then.’
Magnus let go of Tigran’s wrist. ‘Again, that will be a matter for debate. Now, we’ve got work to do. You make your mind up right now: are you going to help me get the charts or are you going to kill me and run?’
Magnus stepped onto the Gemonian Steps and smiled to himself in grim satisfaction as Tigran cursed and followed him.
The summit of the Capitoline was crowded as the ceremony centred around the small shrine to Juventas, and therefore very few could get inside. But the dogs died on Juventas’ altar within the temple as the crowds cheered outside and presented more pain-ravaged victims for ritual slaughter, before they moved on to their final destination for the culmination of the festival in the Temple of Summanus.
‘We want to find the West Viminal representation,’ Magnus said to Tigran as they moved through the crowd.
‘And then what?’ Tigran asked, looking around and wincing at the high-pitched bestial screaming that saturated the temple precinct.
‘Then we follow them at a discreet distance and wait to see when Sempronius turns up and who he’s with, and hope that Cassandros, Sextus and the lads come quickly to the Circus Maximus.’
Tigran frowned. ‘What do you mean, when Sempronius turns up?’
Magnus smiled. ‘What would you do, Tigran, if you had certain items in your house that were so dangerous that to be caught in possession of them would be a death sentence, no matter who you were?’
‘I’d get rid of them as soon as possible.’
‘Exactly. Who wouldn’t? But if you had gone to the trouble of stealing them, would you just throw them away?’
‘Of course not, that would be a waste of time and effort.’
‘So what would you do?’
‘Sell them for a good price.’
‘A good price, yes. But that takes some negotiation, and while those negotiations drag on the items are still sitting in your house, implicating you when you know full well that someone like us, enemies, suspect that you have them and would do all they can to make sure that you’re caught in possession of said items. So what do you do?’
It was Tigran’s turn to smile and he did so with genuine admiration for his patronus. ‘I move them around, but not in a way that they are obvious or unprotected, until the negotiations are complete and then I make the exchange in a public place so that ownership is completely deniable should the transaction be interrupted by the authorities.’
‘Exactly, brother. And that is what Sempronius is currently doing.’ Magnus pointed as he saw what he was looking for. ‘What’s that?’
Tigran followed Magnus’ direction and shrugged. ‘It’s a dog on a forked pole. So what? There are hundreds of them.’
‘Ahh, but what do you notice about that one?’
‘Well, it’s not moving so it’s most probably dead.’
‘Well spotted. But, you see, I saw that dog this morning come out of Sempronius’ house and it wasn’t moving then, either. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then, when Barbatus and the Urban prefect didn’t find the charts in Sempronius’ house, I suddenly wondered why you would want to parade a dead dog right at the beginning of the ceremony.’
Understanding spread across Tigran’s face. ‘Unless it was nothing to do with the festival but, rather, a convenient and clever hiding place to move the charts around. Meantime Sempronius negotiates his price with the purchaser.’
‘And furthermore, because the procession has a fixed route, once negotiations are complete, the merchandise is easy to find having been perfectly safe all day, as who would think of looking inside a dead dog on the third day after the calends of August?’
‘I think we will.’
Magnus slapped Tigran on the shoulder. ‘Brother, I think you might be right.’
The procession made its way down the Capitoline, hurling a few of the wretched beasts, howling, off the Tarpeian Rock for good measure, before coming back out into the Forum around the Portico of Harmonious Gods. All the while, Magnus kept the West Viminal’s dead dog in sight as they cleared the Forum Romanum, passing the Temple of Castor and Pollux in the shadow of the Palatine, and proceeding along the Vicus Tuscus to the Forum Boarium, which was filled with lowing cattle in pens and the calls of buyers and sellers alike.
As they passed between the cattle market and the great gates of the Circus Maximus, Magnus nudged Tigran. ‘There’s Lupus with Cassandros, Sextus and the lads. You stay here watching that dog while I go and get them.’ He stepped out of the column and jogged to where his brethren waited in the shade of the circus walls as a century of the Urban Cohorts crossed the Sublician Bridge on the far side of the Forum. ‘Cassandros, you go and be nice to their centurion and say “dead dog” to him; he’ll understand.’
‘And then what do I do?’
‘If I’m right, then as the ceremony finishes at the Temple of Summanus there will be quite a commotion. Suggest to the centurion, in the politest possible way, that he might like to have his men surround the temple at a distance to prevent any miscreants getting away, if you take my meaning?’
‘I think I do, brother.’ Cassandros grinned as he headed off towards the approaching soldiers.
Magnus gestured to Sextus, Lupus and the other brethren. ‘You lads follow me, and be ready for a bit of a toe to toe.’
The goose was raised high on a pedestal outside the Temple of Summanus, so that it sat in state on its deep cushion, swathed in its silver cloak, overseeing the demise of its guarding partners with an aloofness that seemed to many to be bordering on disinterest. Dog after dog was despatched upon the altar within to the chthonic god of nocturnal thunder who had once, in the distant past, been as exalted as Jupiter himself but now was confined to a small temple next to the circus at the foot of the Aventine. Just why this god had been chosen to receive the sacrifice of the dogs, Magnus did not know, nor did he care as he scanned the crowds for the face of his bitterest foe who, he hoped, would finally meet his ruin within the hour.
And it was with a mixture of relief and shock that Magnus spotted Sempronius pushing his way towards the West Viminal brother holding the dead dog aloft.
‘There he is, but look who he left at the edge of the crowd, Tigran.’
Tigran shaded his eyes against the sun as he looke
d south. He whistled softly. ‘Well, I suppose they can afford what Sempronius is trying to sell.’
Magnus could but agree. ‘And I imagine that Britannicus’ chart that Agrippina commissioned didn’t show the boy’s future in a very good light, so they’re hoping that it’s amongst the rest of them. Well, they are going to be sadly disappointed.’ He looked back over to where Burrus and Seneca were standing, folds of their togas pulled over their heads as much in deference to the god of the temple as to partly obscure their faces. ‘Mind you, they know that the charts will give them leverage when it comes to securing their charge the succession in power over his younger step-brother. Well, brother, they aren’t going to like this.’
As Sempronius approached the dead dog, Magnus moved forward, signalling to Tigran and the rest of the brothers to follow. ‘No blades unless they pull them.’
The dead dog was lowered as, all around, the howling of the few still left alive and the continual bovine lowing and shouts of traders from the cattle market blanketed the proceeding with a bestial cacophony. Sempronius, tall and still retaining the sculpted good looks of his youth despite his full head of hair being silver, took hold of the dog as his men closed around him, shielding his actions.
‘Now!’ Magnus urged in a hoarse whisper. He ran forward, with his brethren following, barging through the crowd, sending men and dogs toppling to the ground as he neared his objective. Lowering his shoulder, he rammed it into the midriff of a surprised West Viminal brother, thumping the wind from his lungs and propelling him back, as Tigran, Sextus and the rest of the brethren crashed into their opponents, exposing Sempronius as he pulled the dead dog’s chest open. A fist slammed into Magnus’ jaw, a flash shot across his inner-vision, but he kept moving forward as Sempronius looked up in surprise. With no time to run, he hauled the dog carcass up by its hind legs and swung it at Magnus. The head smacked against his cheek, just above where the previous blow had landed, cracking bone and tilting his head sideways with neck-wrenching speed, but still he pressed on, vision blurred, face throbbing, to leap onto Sempronius, crashing him to the ground with a crunching jab of his right fist. Strong fingers gripped his throat as around him other couples or groups grappled, gouged and punched, rolling about on the ground or still upright, in a scuffle of flying limbs and butting heads that spread from the epicentre of Magnus and Sempronius out through the crowd, so that within a few dozen heartbeats it was no longer an exclusive South Quirinal versus West Viminal affair.
The Succession Page 6
