‘I don’t want to appear rude, sir, but where are we going and what are we going to do when we get there?’ Magnus asked Sabinus.
‘As Caligula said, we’re going to Livilla’s house to free a slave of Antonia’s held there.’
‘Livilla, eh? A nasty piece of work, from all accounts. Well, I’m sure the Lady Antonia knows best.’
‘What’s between you and Antonia?’ Vespasian asked, intrigued by Magnus’ unlikely contacts in high places. ‘She knew you, but seemed embarrassed to see you.’
‘I’d rather not say. I was hoping that she wouldn’t recognise me,’ Magnus mumbled.
‘I think I can guess,’ Caligula ventured. ‘You’re an ex-boxer judging by the look of you, aren’t you?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘My grandmother is very fond of boxing, so fond in fact that she used to go down to their stables and watch the boxers train.’ Caligula smiled mischievously. ‘Now, I’ve heard that some wealthy widows organise boxing bouts as after-dinner entertainment and then, when the guests have gone, hang on to a boxer or two for some entertainment of another sort. Am I close?’
They could tell by Magnus’ expression that Caligula had hit the mark.
‘No, Magnus, surely not?’ Vespasian gasped in disbelief, equally astonished at Caligula’s candour in discussing his grandmother’s sexual preferences, whilst resisting the temptation to ask Magnus what she was like.
‘Oh, it happens all the time with upper-class ladies,’ Caligula went on cheerily. ‘Boxers, gladiators, charioteers, even actors. Personally I see nothing wrong with it. After all, we all have our needs, even my grandmother, and I’m sure that Magnus was well rewarded for his efforts.’
‘The money was just a bonus,’ Magnus said. ‘She was a very beautiful woman – still is. I can’t claim that it was a hardship. Well, it was, if you take my meaning?’
‘I’m sure I do.’ Caligula smiled at him through the rain. ‘Anyway, we should concentrate on the matter in hand. Extinguish the torches; Livilla’s house is about a quarter of a mile away. The tunnel entrance is in the gardens at the back, so we’ll need to walk around the perimeter walls to find a suitable place to climb over; I think I can remember one.’
They carried on in silence up the hill; the wind had got up and the rain pounded down on them. Caligula stopped when they reached a narrow alley that ran off to the right off the main road between two walls, each about twelve feet high.
‘This is the rear of Livilla’s property, the gardens are over the left-hand wall,’ Caligula whispered. ‘About a hundred paces down the alley there’s an overhanging tree, we can throw a rope over its branches and scale the wall there.’
‘Did you bring rope, Pallas?’ Sabinus asked, worried that the whole venture would come to a grinding halt.
‘It’s all right, sir,’ Pallas reassured him, ‘I have one in my bag; Master Gaius had forewarned me.’
‘Oh, excellent, well done, Caligula,’ Sabinus muttered, hoping that he wasn’t going to be shown up by this pasty-looking youth all night. ‘Magnus, leave two of your men here to secure our getaway: we don’t want to be trapped in this narrow alley.’
‘Right you are, sir. Marius, that had better be you, I imagine that your rope-climbing days are over.’
‘Too right.’ Marius grinned, looking at the stump at the end of his left arm.
‘Sextus, you stay here too; when you see us coming back both of you hide over the other side of the street in the shadows. If the Praetorians are after us you follow behind them so if it comes to a fight you can take them in the rear.’
‘Hide in the shadows, take them in the rear. Right you are, Magnus,’ Sextus repeated, slowly digesting his orders.
‘They could probably do with these.’ Pallas pulled out a couple of swords from his sack.
‘What else have you got in there, Pallas?’ Vespasian asked, looking at the bulging sack.
‘Just stuff that we may need, sir,’ the Greek replied smoothly.
‘Come on, we haven’t got all night.’ Sabinus headed off down the dark alley.
The tree was where Caligula remembered it and in a few short moments they had the rope secured around a branch ready for the ascent.
‘The main house is about two hundred paces away to our right,’ Caligula said, ‘and the tunnel entrance is this side of it by a small round temple dedicated to Minerva.’
‘Right,’ Sabinus said. He was now soaked to the skin, as were all the others. ‘Magnus, leave two more of your lads down here to fight off anyone coming from the other direction, and station one more on top of the wall to get the rope in place to help us back over when we return.’
Magnus gave the orders whilst Pallas dished out three more swords to the men staying behind. Sabinus led the way up the rope to the top of the wall; he peered around but could see nothing on the other side in the pitch-black rain-sodden gardens.
‘Well, here goes,’ he muttered to himself, and leapt down into the dark. He landed with a soft thump in some long grass growing beneath the tree.
‘It’s fine,’ he called up softly to Caligula, who was just appearing at the top of the wall. He jumped down without hesitation. Vespasian, Pallas, Magnus and his last remaining brother, Cassandros, followed quickly.
‘We’re lucky with this weather,’ Caligula whispered. ‘If there are guards at the tunnel’s entrance they’ll be sheltering inside. We can approach from the side and they won’t have a chance of seeing us.’
‘You lead the way, Caligula,’ Sabinus said, ‘then when we’re at the entrance Magnus and I will take the guards out. Hopefully one of them will have the key to the cellar door. If not we’ll have to force it.
‘You might find that this will be of help, sir.’ Pallas pulled out a heavy iron crowbar from his sack.
‘Good. Anything else we may need, Pallas?’
‘Just these, sir,’ he replied, producing six more swords. ‘Better than your short daggers, I’ll warrant.’
‘I was intending to knock them out, not kill them.’
‘It takes quite a hit to fell a Praetorian, sir,’ Magnus pointed out seriously. ‘They don’t go down easy. Better to help them on their way with a decent bit of sharp iron, if you take my meaning?’
Sabinus hadn’t planned on killing anyone but realised that Magnus was right: better to silence them once and for all rather than risk them escaping and raising the alarm.
‘All right, but we go for a quick thrust to the throat, to prevent them shouting out.’
‘I know, sir,’ Magnus replied.
Sabinus looked at him. ‘Yes, I’m sure you do. Well, let’s get on with it. Lead off, Caligula.’
They crept through the shrubs and bushes of the laid-out formal garden, taking care not to step on the gravelled paths and keeping close so that they didn’t lose one another in the dense night and driving rain. After a hundred paces or so a couple of dim points of light appeared through the trees.
‘There, that must be the main house,’ Caligula hissed over the wind. ‘We’ll head towards it; the temple should be on our left quite soon.’
With the lights guiding them progress became easier; soon they were aware of a tiny glimmer as light reflected off water running down a stone wall.
‘Here’s the temple; the tunnel is around the other side about twenty paces away. Follow me.’
Caligula started to lead them around the circular building. Vespasian gripped his sword handle tightly as he followed; he felt his heart accelerating and had to concentrate on breathing slowly. Once around the other side Caligula took Sabinus’ shoulder and pointed. Only a few paces away a faint glow emanated from a low doorway. Sabinus nodded and signalled to Magnus to follow him.
Vespasian held his breath as he watched the barely visible silhouettes of his brother and Magnus creep slowly towards the entrance. Suddenly a loud laugh broke through the steady roar of wind gusting through trees and rain falling on leaves. Sabinus and Magnus stopped. A figure appeared in the do
orway, stopped and looked up at the rain-filled sky and then out into the black night. He lifted up his tunic, eased his loincloth to one side and started to piss. It seemed to go on for an age. Sabinus and Magnus stayed stock-still, barely six paces away from the Praetorian. Eventually he finished and headed back inside saying something to his companion as he went. Sabinus and Magnus started to ease forward again. Once they were beside the entrance they stopped and looked at each other, then sprang in. Vespasian surged forward followed by the rest of the party and charged into the tunnel to find Sabinus and Magnus searching the bodies of the two guards who were lying on the floor, blood oozing from gashes in their throats and their dead eyes staring in shock at the ceiling.
‘Bugger it, they haven’t got the keys,’ Sabinus spat. ‘Look around, see if they’re hidden somewhere.’
A quick search in the guttering light of the single oil lamp proved futile.
‘Pass me that crowbar, Pallas; we’ll do this as quickly and quietly as possible.’
‘What if there’s a guard in there with her?’ Vespasian asked.
‘Fuck knows. Bring the lamp, Caligula.’ Sabinus snatched the crowbar from Pallas and headed off up the tunnel, intent on getting the thing over with as fast as possible.
The solid oak door had a thick bar across it to prevent people breaking out, not in. Sabinus slipped it out of its housings with minimal noise and eased the thin wedge of the crowbar into the crack between the door and its frame, next to the lock.
‘Right,’ he whispered, ‘Pallas and Cassandros, guard the tunnel entrance. Caligula, you hold the lamp up. Magnus and Vespasian, put your weight against the door and follow me through.’
‘What if it’s bolted on the inside and we can’t shift it?’ Vespasian asked. He was getting increasingly nervous about this ad hoc rescue attempt; concern for Caenis’ wellbeing gnawed at his belly. His brother looked at him with fire in his eyes,
‘It’s not, all right? It’s not. Now, on the count of three push as if the harpies themselves are after you.’
Magnus and Vespasian braced themselves against the door and Sabinus took a firm grip on the crowbar.
‘One, two, three.’ He wrenched back on the bar with all his weight as his companions launched themselves at the door; there was a loud crack and Vespasian and Magnus went tumbling into the darkness.
Vespasian landed on the cold stone floor, grazing his knees. He could hear a suppressed whimper, as if someone was trying not to scream, coming from somewhere in the dark. Sabinus came dashing in still holding the crowbar.
‘Quick, Caligula, get that lamp in here.’
Caligula did as he was told. The room was low and damp. There was another door in the wall opposite that led to the stairs up to the house. To his left Vespasian could see a small, shaking body covered completely by a blanket. He rushed over and stripped it away,
‘Caenis,’ he whispered, looking down at the trembling form buried in a small pile of straw on the floor; her face was covered by an arm. Vespasian gently touched her hair and the whimpering stopped.
She looked round; disbelief registered in her eyes. ‘You! What are you doing here?’
‘Antonia sent us to get you out. Come on, quick.’
‘Have you got the key?’
‘What key?’
‘For this.’ Caenis lifted her left arm; around the wrist was a manacle attached by a large chain to the wall.
‘Shit! Sabinus, look at this.’
‘Fuck!’
‘What do we do?’
‘Well, we’ll have to get the key, or lop her hand off.’
Caenis’ eyes widened in horror at the suggestion.
‘Very funny, Sabinus,’ Vespasian hissed.
‘I’m serious, how else can we get her out?’
‘There’s a guard at the top of the stairs, he keeps the key,’ Caenis whispered quickly.
‘We can’t break down that door to get him without alerting the whole house, and we need to hurry.’ Sabinus was getting impatient.
‘Then we’ll get him to come here,’ Vespasian whispered urgently. ‘Magnus, close the tunnel door. Caligula, put out the lamp.’
The room descended into complete darkness.
‘Caenis, I want you to start screaming and don’t stop until the guard opens the door. Let’s hope there’s only one of them.’
Caenis had no problems screaming. Soon there was a thump on the door.
‘Shut your noise, you little bitch,’ a gruff voice called from the other side. Caenis went on shrieking. There were a couple more bangs and then they heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock; the door opened quickly and a man holding a torch burst into the room straight on to the point of Vespasian’s sword. Vespasian’s arm tensed as he drove the point up through the guard’s throat; he dropped gurgling to the floor, dead.
Vespasian snatched up the burning torch. ‘Sabinus, get the key.’
‘Got it!’ Sabinus ripped the key off a bloody string around the dead guard’s neck. He quickly undid the manacle’s lock and helped Caenis up.
More footsteps came clattering down the steps and into the cell burst a bull of a man. Long, oiled black hair fell to his shoulders. His much-battered, pock-marked face was the colour of oak and adorned with a close-clipped goatee beard.
Caenis screamed again. Magnus hurled himself at the door and rammed it into the brute’s face, throwing him back on to the stone steps behind, knocking him senseless.
‘Magnus, Caligula, lock the stair door and pile all the straw you can find against it,’ Vespasian hissed.
It was the work of moments.
‘Let’s go!’
No one needed a second invitation and they dashed through the tunnel door. Vespasian hurled the torch into the pile of straw and pelted after his comrades. They found Pallas and Cassandros waiting nervously. Shouts could be heard coming from the house.
‘They’re on to us. That was a bright idea of yours, little brother, all that screaming. Quick as you like, Caligula,’ Sabinus urged.
‘This way,’ Caligula said, heading off into the sodden night.
Vespasian took Caenis’ arm and followed. From behind him in the house he could hear the shouting intensify.
They stumbled through the moonless garden, crashing into trees and bushes that tore at their clothes and scratched their skins. The shouting was now outside; looking quickly over his shoulder in its direction Vespasian saw, in the distance, three or four torches coming around the side of the house.
‘They’re heading for the tunnel. Once they find the dead guards they’ll be after us,’ he panted as he held on to Caenis, trying to prevent her from tripping.
Caligula stopped abruptly. ‘Here’s the wall. The tree should be to the right, come on.’
The going was slightly easier now that they had the wall to follow, but it seemed to Vespasian that the shouting was growing nearer; he dared not look behind again for fear of tripping. Caenis was gasping for breath at his side as she struggled on, terrified for her life. The wind drove the rain into their faces making it almost impossible for them to keep their eyes open.
After a gut-wrenching length of time Caligula slowed. ‘Thank the gods, we’re here.’
The crossroads brother on the wall chucked the rope down.
‘The girl goes first,’ Sabinus hissed.
Caenis leapt at the rope and with surprising agility hauled herself up and over the wall. As Caligula took his turn Vespasian looked around; the torches were no more than a hundred paces away and closing fast. Pallas and Cassandros scaled quickly, followed by Magnus.
‘Hurry, hurry,’ Sabinus urged. With Magnus over he grabbed Vespasian. ‘Come on, get up there.’
Vespasian clambered up the rope and got to the top of the wall; he could see the torches, now just thirty paces away, and could make out in their orange halos nearly twenty figures. He reached down to help his brother up, hauling him on to the top of the wall and then pulling the rope up behind him as Sabinus
jumped down.
‘There they are, get them,’ came a shout from the garden. Vespasian looked up; their pursuers were almost on them, light from their torches illuminating the tree. An instant before he jumped he locked eyes with their leader; he had only seen him once before, from a distance, but recognised him immediately. Sejanus, he thought as he hit the ground.
CHAPTER XIII
Vespasian picked himself up and sprinted down the alley in his brother’s wake. They found their companions waiting for them on the main street. Apart from them it was completely deserted; the increasingly atrocious weather was keeping even the Night Watch sheltering inside. Back down the alley they could see the torches appearing over the wall as the first Praetorians made it over.
‘Run,’ Sabinus shouted, ‘run like the three-headed hound of Hades is after you.’
They hurtled round the corner and sped down the hill towards Antonia’s house, less than a third of a mile away. The furious speed was too much for Caenis and she slipped on the wet stone surface, falling to the ground with a cry. Vespasian grabbed her arms, pulled her up, threw her over his shoulder and pressed on as fast as he could, aware that the Praetorians had now rounded the corner of the alley and were racing down the hill behind them.
Caligula came skidding to a halt in front of Antonia’s door and thumped on it repeatedly.
‘We’ll carry on down the hill and try to lead them away,’ Magnus called to Sabinus.
‘Good luck,’ he replied as the crossroads brothers disappeared shouting into the night.
The viewing slit slipped back briefly before the door was pulled open and they piled in. Vespasian looked up the hill to see the torches about three hundred paces away. They were safe. On a night as dark and rainswept as this the Praetorians would never have seen which house they’d gone into; they could only guess, but it would be an easy guess, he was sure. He stepped into the atrium and put Caenis down. The door closed behind him. Completely out of breath he leant against the wall and sucked in the air.
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