Murder In-Absentia

by Assaph Mehr

  I turned to face the narrow gap, and walked in.

  * * *

  I emerged on the other side to see the members of the cabal. Seven figures next to two tripod-mounted braziers turned to look at me as I stepped out of the other side of the narrow passage.

  “Ah Felix, right on time,” said Zymaxis. Standing around him in a semi-circle I saw Gaetanicus and Fufidius, Duronius, Rabirius Capilanus, and two of the men I saw in the first meeting but not in the second — the fat merchant and the seaman.

  “You’ll be glad to know we have formally approved your application, and will not need to kill you.” He said this with a smile, and I took it as an attempt at humour. “We were quite impressed with the offering you made — we already have some ideas about how to utilise them! But to business. I believe you have met everybody here, with the exception of Tiberius Pomponius” — he indicated the merchant — “and Numerius Otacilius” — the captain. We exchanged nods and taut smiles.

  Zymaxis resumed. “Men! We are now prepared to finally embark on the next major step of our vision for a new Egretia. We are moving at last, not just hanging back in the shadows with silent preparations. Initiates! Approach, and make ready to take the blood-oath.”

  I was standing where I came in, a few steps into the ledge between the narrow entry and the edge of the crater. The seven men were arranged in front of me, their faces lit by the moonlight and the burning braziers, and behind them gaped the open crater. Then from behind me to the left I heard footsteps. I turned to look, and saw a man approaching from the dark recesses of the stone walls to stand next to me, his face half-anticipated and recognised in an instant.

  Drusus.

  The man who was missing from the list of leads Aemilia visited, yet the one most expected.

  And behind him, walking as if in a trance, was the muffled figure of Aemilia with her hands tied, led by him with a length of rope.

  Drusus gave me a curious look, then nodded at me and came to stand next to me. Only then I realised how tense my muscles were. If he would have tried to expose me as the investigator of Caeso’s death — well, not like I had a cunning plan in coming here tonight. Thinking about my idiotic lack of proper preparations, I just hoped that my cognomen of felix would hold true.

  “You two are our newest initiates. Our cabal is still small, yet our power is growing. With the contributions you have brought us, you have guaranteed yourself a place at the new Egretia that will soon rise. Tonight is a new beginning for you, and a new beginning for everybody, us here and those sleeping unaware in the city below.

  “Tonight we attempt to awaken Vulcanus. The ceremony has been well researched, and with Luna above us in this month sacred to Maia, we shall fulfil all the requirements carefully. We are set to harness the power that lies under this mountain, and use it to our advantage in forcing the new order. This will be the spear-head, the fulcrum with which we shall bring down the strangling oppression of the collegia and open the path to a future unfettered by artificial constraints.” He paused before continuing.

  “Sadly we are missing one member of our group,” said Zymaxis, “but we shall have to start the ceremony without him. You see, it appears that our dear colleague Philokrates gave his life to our cause.” I tensed as he paused again for effect. “He gave his life, instead of betraying us. I know that through the power of the blood-oath that binds us. I also know something about the circumstances in which he died — and that it is now time to deal with the traitor amongst us!”

  * * *

  ‘Cack!’ was the only thing that went through my mind as I reached inside the sleeve of my tunic to grasp my dagger and hoped that Borax was paying attention before I leaped… But I stopped.

  Zymaxis turned his back on us. Beyond him I saw Duronius, who was standing at the edge of the semi-circle behind Gaetanicus, raise his right arm and clench his fingers in a complex pattern into a fist. Gaetanicus stiffened, then his arms and legs spread out as if pulled by invisible chains in four different directions as he floated gently upwards off the rough floor of the ledge, matching the hand motions of Duronius.

  “Look and understand!” Zymaxis said over his shoulder to Drusus and me. “Our group is not child’s play, but deadly serious. We have even attracted the attention of the Fetiales,” he spat. He turned back to the floating Gaetanicus, “Isn’t that so, traitor? Did you think I would not find out? Did you really believe you could hide your true motives from me? I knew from the moment you joined us that your loyalties to Egretia never wavered. I knew all along that you sought to bring us down, and that you would need to be disposed of before we made any real moves. I only wish I would have done it sooner, and saved Philokrates’ life. He was a true follower! He gladly gave his life for our cause! You… wretched worm! You only thought to destroy us, destroy the bright future we plan for Egretia! I would have sacrificed you tonight, except that the ritual requires virgin blood. We will keep you like this, for you to witness the culminations of our long preparations, the rise of the new dawn. We will leave you as nothing more than the dog that you are.” Zymaxis spat at the ground in front of Gaetanicus, having exhausted his diatribe.

  As Zymaxis was speaking I was doing quick mental calculations. When I came in, it was myself against eight members, with Borax ready to jump in. Assuming I could move first in total surprise, we’d still be facing three or four each. However if Zymaxis really thought Gaetanicus a traitor, he was the enemy of my enemy and potentially a grateful ally. If he was as quick of mind and body as his training suggested, I could make it well-trained three against very surprised six. Much better odds. And besides, Zymaxis was really getting on my nerves.

  So while everyone’s attention was on Zymaxis and Gaetanicus, I drew my knife and stabbed Drusus in the guts, withdrew the blade, and hurled it at Duronius before Drusus even began to scream. The throw was an awkward one and I only clipped Duronius with my dagger, it did not embed itself cleanly in his flesh. Still it was enough to break his concentration, and Gaetanicus fell to the ground.

  I rushed past Drusus who sank to his knees to retrieve my knife from where it fell at Duronius’ feet, as Borax, observing hidden from the opening, rushed in. I slammed into Duronius, and pushed him away where he stumbled and fell, then bent down to pick up my dagger.

  I looked up at the scene before me, and saw a snapshot of the cabal regaining its senses. Zymaxis drew a curved knife and was yelling at them to get me, Numerius had a nasty look and a nastier looking long dagger, Fufidius was gathering the energies for an incantation, Pomponius was still a bit bewildered but was reaching inside his tunic for a knife, while Rabirius Capilanus held his out in a shaking hand.

  “I hope I didn’t make a mistake,” I said to Gaetanicus and dragged him to his feet.

  “Idiot, I had it under control,” he said, though as he looked at me I could see the same quick calculation and resolution behind his eyes. He drew his dagger and stood next to me facing the others. By now Duronius was scrambling back to his feet and preparing an incantation, and I saw Borax rushing in with his blade at the ready.

  “Viri! Impetus!” Gaetanicus yelled next to me and nearly made me jump. I thought he was a bit enthusiastic to give the two of us the same command as for a legion to attack, when my gaze was drawn to the cliffs behind the men of the cabal, where what looked like solid rock suddenly moved and from a hidden niche jumped out four men in full military mail armour and swords.

  What followed next was utterly chaotic in a way only those who have experienced battle can appreciate. Gaetanicus clashed with Numerius Otacilius, but was being beaten back as Zymaxis leapt upon him as well, yelling wildly in a language I did not know; the four soldiers were repulsed by Fufidius whose hands streamed sticky fire at the first of them, sending his screaming to his death as he stumbled over the ledge; Borax was beset upon by Pomponius and Rabirius, more because he was in their way to escape than any undue bravery; Duronius seemed to have developed a sudden grudge against me, sent a gust of wind that k
nocked me flat on my back, then picked a handful of gravel and threw them at me one by one, speeding them like small ballista missiles that exploded almost like those of full scale military equipment.

  Dodging and rolling I looked for an opening and when one of the braziers was knocked down and sparks flew between us and made him recoil I jumped forward, too close now for his missiles and ignoring the tiny burns on my skin, and plunged my dagger deep, deep into his shoulder. He sank to his knees with a cry as I pulled my knife back, and might have cried for mercy if I did not cut with my dagger again, and this time with better aim I slit his throat, felt the spray of his hot blood of my arms.

  I looked around. Gaetanicus was still battling both Numerius and Zymaxis, both turning to be vicious knife fighters and managing with concerted efforts to push him towards the precipice. Beyond him I could see Borax stepping over the recumbent body of Rabirius and thrusting at Pomponius; his gladiatorial skill left no doubt about the expected length of that engagement. Further along I saw Fufidius, who I thought to be a third rate incantator, holding his own against the trained legionaries. His fingers streamed trails of fire like whips, and where they touched the fire seemed to stick and ignite the rock itself. The men could not close with him, their shields not proof against his sticky flames. As I watched he caught another with a sudden spurt, his screams horrifying even as they turned into gurgles as the flesh melted from his face, his bones crackling; the stench of burnt human body mixed with the acrid smell of magia burning is something I do not ever want to experience again.

  I turned and thought to aid Gaetanicus when I heard behind a voice break as it cried “Stop!” and then again, cutting through the noise, “STOP!”

  I turned and felt a chill as I saw Drusus, tottering on his feet, the side of his tunic soaked with blood, holding Aemilia with a knife to her throat, dangerously close to the edge.

  His cry worked, as everyone’s attention was momentarily on him. The fighting stopped, everybody frozen in momentary indecisiveness.

  “Don’t do this, Gnaeus Drusus,” I said, “there is still a chance for you–”

  “Shut up!” he yelled back. “Just shut up! All of you stop or I throw the bitch down!” I saw Aemilia’s eyes, saw the trance that bound her before replaced with fear.

  I dropped my dagger and spread my arms at my sides, took a slow step towards him, “I’ll make sure you walk, Drusus, if you just let her go–”

  “Don’t come closer! You stay right there!” he screamed and waved the knife at me.

  Aemilia took his moment of distraction when the knife was no longer at her throat, elbowed him in the wound at his side and jumped forward. But Drusus with his left hand managed to claw at her long hair and yank her back so hard she fell down at his feet.

  “Stultus fellator,” I heard Fufidius behind me. I cast a glance back, heard him utter words of power, saw him raise his leg and stamp his foot down. A crack in the stone ledge leapt from his foot and sped towards us, forked as it neared the edge. I turned and saw the stone shelf on which we stood crumble, slide back into the gaping mouth of the crater. I saw Aemilia cry out and reach for me even as I stumbled and reached for her hand, too late. She reached out to me, arms outstretched beyond my reach just like in my vision at the sibyl of Kebros. I saw the stones of the ledge and Drusus tumble beyond the cliffs into the crater.

  But not Aemilia.

  Frozen in space, I stretched and reached out, clasped her hand, drew her to me. I saw the stones under me crumble and fall, yet I stood with Aemilia in my arms on air, even as Drusus’ body crashed on the jagged rocks below.

  I turned and saw Araxus hovering above the ledge. I walked, without looking down, without thinking of the nothing I was stepping on, back onto the wide ledge.

  Fufidius recovered quickly, and with a snarl went to reassert his dominance. Two streams of liquid fire again erupted from his hands, this time far longer, thicker and brighter than before. He poured all his might into them, swinging them like whips to envelop Araxus.

  Araxus caught them in his hands, let them envelop his arms, drew them up, like snakes spiralling up to his shoulders. He flexed his arms, and the whiplash make Fufidius stumble forward. I saw the look of consternation on Fufidius’ face, the beads of sweat on his forehead, and still he tried, pouring everything he had into a fire that was strong enough to melt granite.

  He gave it everything, until he had nothing left. And Araxus, both his eyes now jet black, laughed, and with his laughter came gushing forth all the flames he drew from Fufidius, spewing forth from his mouth to envelop their poor originator till all that was left was a pool of molten slag where Fufidius previously stood.

  Gaetanicus was also one to recover quickly, and while we stood stupefied looking at the battle of incantatores, he took the chance to knock both Numerius and Zymaxis down unconscious.

  * * *

  We stood together, breathing hard, looking at the corpses and beaten men around us. More soldiers poured onto the ledge from the same opening we came through, bound and gagged the men of the cabal still alive, attended to the wounded and the dead. They had been waiting hidden along the path leading up, with orders to let anyone come up unhindered, and allow no one to go down.

  I held Aemilia until her shock passed, turned to crying, stopped. I left her with the medic to ensure her health. I found Araxus — his right eye now back to green, his left as black as ever — and thanked him. His face was grey, his brow covered with perspiration and his muscles shaking from the exertion of the powerful magics he performed. “Next time,” he told me, “let me know you plan to be so far out of the city when you activate the signal. I could have come with you. I like a dramatic entrance, but the time and effort to get here nearly cost you your stupid life.”

  I left him and stood at the edge again, looking at the broken body of Drusus on the rocks far below me. I heard a man come stand next to me.

  “I must say I did not expect what you did,” Gaetanicus said. “I had infiltrated this cabal months ago, getting ready to expose all their recruits. Zymaxis kept his secrets tightly, always tasking us individually, rarely letting us share our progress all together. I had to wait till he gathered us all, finally ready to act, to be sure I got them all. When you came asking to join us, I thought you were just another conspirator. When I found out you were asking questions about me, I thought you might need to be silenced. I am glad it turned out this way, though I still don’t understand why you joined us in the first place.”

  “I was asked by Marcus Quinctius Corpio the Rhone of Fish to look at the death of his son Caeso. A cabal performed an ancient forbidden rite on him. That’s how I found out about Zymaxis and his followers.”

  Gaetanicus looked at me blankly. “Caeso who?”

  Chapter XXIX

  It was midday of the Ides of Maius by the time I collapsed on my bed, utterly exhausted. So tired, I fell right into a dreamless sleep even though I was left with more questions than answers.

  I spoke long with Gaetanicus last night, and was even allowed to question the surviving members of the cabal in his presence. I described Caeso to him, and he recalled the youth in passing. A boy he said, who accompanied Drusus once then was gone and never seen again. Pomponius was severely wounded, and died without waking up. Rabirius I questioned but he did not remember Caeso. Numerius refused to answer any questions, and I was too tired to try anything with him.

  Zymaxis survived as well, and relatively unharmed as Gaetanicus managed to subdue him in the final fight. He was lying trussed and gagged when I approached him, a baleful look in his eyes. Two soldiers were standing over to him, swords drawn and ready to strike should he only twitch the wrong way.

  I removed his gag and he spat at my face. “I should have realised you were naught but a worm, a spineless lackey!”

  “Not a lackey, just a sensible citizen of Egretia. I have seen enough of crazy incantatores and have no wish to blow my home in a volcanic eruption.”

  “You understand n
othing, you see nothing!” he shot back at me. “A small man with a small mind, no sense of possibilities. Why I even allowed you to live in the first place I do not know, I should have realised no one like you would have the courage, the smarts to approach us–”

  “I am only here to talk about Caeso and what you did to him,” I interrupted.

  He paused in blank surprise. “Who?”

  “Caeso, the young friend of Drusus. You know, the one you performed the Rite of Pelegrinus on.”

  He looked at me for a moment with knotted brows. “You must be deluded, mad as well as an idiot. Why would I perform that rite on anyone?”

  “You wanted a way to bring down Egretia, did you not? A man under your control whose life force had been replaced with the raw power of the six elements would have given you a way to achieve this, no less than awakening Vulcanus.”

  He shook his head sadly. “Well perhaps I did see something appropriately devious in you… If only you applied your mind to our cause, instead of betraying us for petty cash… But no. We never tried that path.”

  “And Caeso?”

  “A young man, friend of Drusus?” I nodded and he continued. “He came once with Gnaeus Drusus, when I was less discriminate about recruiting. He showed an interest in joining but I thought him a dilettante, and was confirmed when he showed the next time with his girlfriend. I told him never to bother showing his face again. It was evident that he lacked the force of character to commit himself; he was after excitement, entertainment, and would not — could not — stay true to our cause. We dismissed him promptly, and without cause for regret. If someone performed the Rite of Pelegrinus upon him, it was not us.”

  It was the seventh hour of the night when I finished questioning the survivors. Though Aemilia had recovered quickly and wanted to go home immediately, we were all too tired and sore after the battle. It was too dark to climb down the treacherous path along the Verguvian cliffs in our sorry state. The soldiers kindly gave us blankets, and we huddled in a corner. Araxus sat down with legs crossed and a straight back, watching over us. Something profound had changed in him, or perhaps I was just too tired and wanted to believe this. Aemilia, Borax and I slept fitfully on the hard rocks for the remaining five short hours of the summer night.