“About that Hadrian,” Attianus interrupted in a gruff voice. “When I was last in Rome I overheard Trajan refer to you as that lazy boy who prefers to go hunting and fucking other men’s wives than to take his responsibilities seriously. If you want Trajan to appoint you as the next emperor, you had better start shaping up. He is not going to hand the empire over to a man who won’t look after it. You are only on the up now because of the tireless efforts of Plotina and Matidia. So, get your act together boy.”
The room remained silent as Attianus stopped speaking. Only he would dare call Hadrian a boy.
“Right,” Hadrian said, looking away in embarrassment. He was about to say something else when a slave appeared in the doorway and caught Hadrian’s eye.
“What?” Hadrian growled, staring at the slave.
In reply, the slave hastily rattled off something in Greek which Fergus could not understand. In his study, Hadrian’s face darkened and then he sighed.
“For those of you who don’t speak Greek,” Hadrian said wearily turning to his companions, “I have just been informed by the harbour master down at the port of Piraeus that there is a storm closing in on us. It may last a few days, so it looks like our departure for Antioch has been delayed. One positive I suppose is that it means that we should be able to attend the Panathenaea festival and procession to the Parthenon which takes place in a few days.”
In the doorway to the study Fergus noticed that the slave had not disappeared but was standing around awkwardly, trying to catch his attention without making a sound. Hastily Fergus left his position and met the slave by the door.
“What is it?” Fergus said quietly.
In reply, the slave shot off a mouthful of Greek which Fergus didn’t understand.
“Speak slowly or in Latin, I don’t understand you,” Fergus said in an annoyed voice. “What are you trying to tell me?” he added, as if speaking to a child.
“Master…wife…daughters…ship…approaching Athens…now,” the slave said, his eyes bulging as he tried his best to communicate the message.
“Oh!” Fergus exclaimed.
Chapter Seven – The Good Wife
The port of Piraeus looked rundown and squalid but here and there Fergus could still see little hints of the harbour’s former greatness and glory - as the home of the powerful Athenian fleet that had once ruled the seas. Hadrian loved to talk about Greece and during his years at his boss’s side, Fergus had found it impossible not to listen to Hadrian espousing about Athens’ epic and glorious past. As a result, he knew the history of the city intimately. Piraeus, the ancient harbour of Athens, had never really recovered from the destruction wrought by the Roman general Sulla nearly two hundred years ago. The long walls that had once connected the port with the city of Athens, some six miles away, had long been torn down and the potholed and shabby, garbage-strewn road leading to the city was now inhabited by a motley collection of shopkeepers, beggars, shipping firms and prostitutes. The port, like the city was now just a shadow of what it had once been, living and feeding of Athens’s glorious past, like a woman mourning the passing of her beauty.
Fergus stood waiting on the quayside in the harbour, gazing silently and eagerly at the trireme as it slowly made its way towards the docks. The distinctive figure and face of Poseidon, Lord of the Seas was carved into the prow of the ship and across the water he could hear a drum. As the banks of rowers majestically propelled the ship towards him, Fergus stirred in anticipation. In his hand, he was clutching some beautiful red and white flowers and a few yards away, one of Hadrian’s slaves was waiting beside the horse drawn carriage that would take them back to Athens. Fergus peered at the trireme as he tried to spot his girls. Galena and his five daughters were coming home and Fergus was happy. Despite the girl’s incessant questions, wailing and activity, something that exhausted Galena before evening, Fergus had missed them. His quarters back at Hadrian’s house were simply not the same without his girls. Aboard the ship he could however, not see them and he sighed. In his domestic life, he was surrounded by women and in his professional life he was surrounded by men. He had wanted to have a son, a boy, who would follow him into the army and inherit the estate on Vectis after he and his father Marcus had gone, but it seemed the gods had decided his fate was to have girls.
As the passengers started to disembark along the gangway, eight-year old Briana, his eldest daughter, with long red hair and a speckled face, suddenly yelled in delight as she caught sight of Fergus and before anyone could stop her, she rushed towards him. Fergus laughed and caught her in his arms. Briana’s sisters, Efa, six and Gitta, five, did the same and within moment’s Fergus was besieged with shrieks, hugs and an avalanche of questions and statements.
“Fergus, dearest,” Galena said as she came towards him with a big smile on her face, and reached up to fondly kiss her husband. She looked radiant and her face and arms were deeply tanned. Behind her came the two Dacian slave girls, each holding one of his other daughter’s, Aina, three and Athena who was just one.
“Good to have you back,” Fergus said with a smile, as despite his daughter’s clamour, he managed to hug his wife. “A safe and comfortable crossing?”
“Safe, not comfortable and Turbo sends his greetings,” Galena said, as her daughters huddled around her legs, excitedly gazing up at their father, and subjecting him to a barrage of noisy questions and stories. Galena smiled again and fondly ran her fingers across Fergus’s cheeks as she examined him. “Remember that little branch which we both cast into the river together at Deva all those years ago, on the day we were married,” Galena said sweetly, her eyes glinting with sudden fervour. “Well it still drifts on the currents, my love. I feel it, drifting on an endless water, strong and content in its purpose and destination.”
“Are you saying that you are happy to see me, woman?” Fergus grinned.
“I am not the only one,” Galena replied with a happy smile, looking down at her daughters. “Briana and Efa were seasick on the way out and Aina had a fever for a week, but the natural hot springs at Baiae were wonderful. The waters returned us all back to health as has the sun. It has been a most relaxing time. Admiral Turbo has a fine holiday villa in Baiae and his wife was ever so kind and hospitable. The girls enjoyed our stay at their villa immensely.”
“I brought you all these,” Fergus said indicating the flowers, “for the slave girls too.”
An excited squeal erupted, as Fergus turned to hand his daughters and the slave girls his welcoming gifts and the flowers were promptly placed into the girl’s hair. And as the girls busied themselves, Galena took a step towards Fergus and embraced him and as she did, her hand wandered down to his arse.
“I shall thank Hadrian personally for asking his friend Turbo to let us stay in his villa,” she whispered, bringing her lips close to his ear, “but it can wait. The slaves have promised to take the girls to the park when we get back. I have missed you husband,” she whispered, “you and I have some business to take care of.”
“What kind of business?” Fergus replied raising his eyebrows in mock confusion as he felt his wife’s sweet breath and lips on his cheek and took in the scent of her perfume.
“Hot, sweaty business, husband,” Galena murmured, giving him a little urgent bite on his neck and squeezing his arse with her hand.
* * *
Galena lay on the bed, naked and was staring up at the ceiling, looking exhausted but pleased. Her body was covered in sweat and at her side Fergus, also naked, had his eyes closed as if he were asleep.
Thoughtfully Galena twisted onto her side and turned to examine Fergus, running her fingers gently over his chest muscles and arms.
“Something bothers you,” Galena said quietly, as she studied his face. “Did something happen whilst I was away?”
On the bed, Fergus opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. For a long moment, he did not answer. Then he sighed and turned to look at his wife.
“I received a letter from Marcus, f
rom Rome,” Fergus said in a weary voice. “Marcus writes that Kyna is dangerously ill. He thinks she is dying. He has begged me to come to Rome at once but Hadrian will not let me go.”
“Kyna is ill?” Galena exclaimed with a frown as she lay back on the bed.
“That’s what Marcus writes,” Fergus replied in a despondent voice.
It was Galena’s turn to remain silent.
“That’s odd,” she exclaimed. “For when I was in Baiae, just ten days ago in fact, I received a letter from Kyna. She did not mention anything about being ill. Quite the opposite, she seemed happy and in rude health, full of energy.”
“You write to my mother?” Fergus said looking at Galena in surprise.
“I do,” Galena replied. “It started as a way of helping me practice how to write and read and Kyna loves it when I do. We write to each other nearly every week. I received her last letter on the day we departed from Baiae. That’s only ten days ago and the distance from Baiae to Rome is not great. The journey can be done in a day or two. I still have the letter, if you would like to read it.”
“Ten days ago,” Fergus muttered with a sudden thoughtful look. “The slave who handed me Marcus’s letter said that my father’s letter arrived nine days before I returned to Athens with Hadrian from the Games. That must mean Marcus posted his letter at least nineteen or more days ago, a whole week or so before Kyna wrote to you, which doesn’t make sense. Why would my father lie about something like this? If it’s a joke, then it is in poor taste.”
“Yes, that is odd,” Galena said. “It doesn’t make sense.”
For a while the two of them remained silent, thinking about the strange course of events. Then Fergus sat up abruptly.
“Marcus said that I should come to Rome right away,” Fergus murmured. “He said it three times. Do not delay he wrote. He is certainly keen that I leave for Rome immediately. But why? Why does my father want me out of Athens and in such haste? Why is he not telling the truth about Kyna?”
* * *
The knocking on the door was loud, persistent and urgent and it annoyed Fergus for he was just about to kiss Galena again. Annoyed, he broke free from her embrace and turned to look at the door.
“What?” he cried.
“Sir,” a female voice called out with a note of urgency. “It’s Hadrian Sir. He’s disappeared.”
Fergus blinked and shook his head in confusion.
“What?”
“Hadrian’s gone Sir, “the voice called out. “He has done one of his runners.”
And a moment later the door flew open and a small woman of around eighteen entered, her face flushed with worry. It was Saadi, the only woman on his close protection team.
“Hadrian had been drinking Sir. He was muttering something about goodbye’s. Then he told me to get him another flask of wine and when I returned, he was gone. He’s slipped away again Sir. He’s done it again. I should have had a slave get the wine. I am so sorry Sir.”
Then as Saadi caught sight of the stark-naked Galena lying on the bed, her sentence finished abruptly in an embarrassed, “Oh.”
“Shit,” Fergus hissed, as he hastily slid of the bed and fumbled with his discarded clothes, which were lying scattered across the floor. “The bloody fool. It’s time that I had a word with him about this. It’s not your fault Saadi. When is he ever going to stop doing this? Where has he gone? Come on, think. Where could Hadrian have gone at this time of the day?”
On the bed, Galena had hastily covered herself with a blanket and in the doorway Saadi quickly ran her fingers across her forehead, as she looked away in embarrassment. She was small even for a woman, with a darkish complexion and she didn’t look like a bodyguard and that was precisely why Fergus had hired her. He had found her working in one of Athens’ markets as a pickpocket and had been impressed by her ability to get close to people, without eliciting their suspicion. Saadi could steal anything, listen in on conversations without being noticed and, because she was a woman, no one would ever suspect that she was also a trained bodyguard and could handle a knife or sword. And she was intensely loyal. All of which made her an excellent addition to the team.
“I don’t know Sir,” Saadi muttered, with a little shake of her head. “He didn’t say anything really, but knowing the boss, Sir it could be any of several places - tavern, temple, the park, maybe the Parthenon. Maybe he just wants to be alone.”
“Who have we got available?” Fergus snapped, as he hastily dressed himself and reached for his belt, knife and gladius.
“You, me and Arlyn,” Saadi said quickly. “The others are out; off duty. Arlyn is searching the house just to make sure Hadrian is not playing any tricks on us or testing our responses, like he did that time in Nicopolis.”
“Good,” Fergus grunted as he grabbed his heavy, army boots and fastened them to his feet. Then grasping his cloak, he turned quickly to Galena.
“I will be back as soon as we have found him,” he said, rolling his eyes and was rewarded by a little chuckle from Galena.
Then Fergus rushed out of the door, followed closely by Saadi. It was dark outside and in the night sky, the stars glinted and glowed as if they were mocking him. Athens was a large city. How was he going to find Hadrian amongst the hundreds of taverns, alleys and thousands of buildings? In the courtyard near the stables the two of them ran into the tall Hibernian. Arlyn was holding a burning torch in his hand. He shook his head as he saw Fergus coming towards him.
“He’s not in the house Sir,” Arlyn growled in his exotic accent. “What do we do?”
“Fuck,” Fergus hissed in dismay as he turned to look around the dark courtyard. “Where can he have gone? What does he do around this hour?”
In their stables, the snorting and stamping of the horses and his own, fast, laboured breathing were the only sound. For a long moment, no one spoke.
“He likes to shag things after it gets dark,” Saadi said at last. “It’s either that or he has gone to get pissed in some shit hole.”
Instantly Fergus snapped his fingers. “That’s it,” he hissed in fierce delight. “I know where he has gone. That married woman he was seeing. The banker’s wife who lives near the Roman agora. I bet he has gone to say goodbye to her before we leave for Antioch.”
“But didn’t he promise that he wouldn’t be seeing her again,” Arlyn interjected. “He did say that Sir. I remember it well.”
“Hadrian lies about such things,” Fergus snapped, as he turned and started to head for the gates leading out of the fortified house. “No, if I am right he’s gone to see her for the last time. A farewell shag. Follow me. We need to hurry.”
“Didn’t her husband say he would kill Hadrian if he caught him anywhere near his wife again?” Saadi asked as she and Arlyn swiftly followed Fergus out of the gates and into the night.
“He did,” Fergus replied in an unhappy voice. “That’s why we need to hurry. Hadrian’s brain stops thinking when he has had too much wine. After too much wine his cock starts doing the thinking for him. I saw that for the first time in Germania, years ago, when he got pissed and insulted an important Vandal chief. Many of my men died because of that one drunken night.”
“He’s a prick,” Arlyn muttered disapprovingly.
“Maybe, but it’s our job to keep him alive, so no more talking. Look sharp, both of you,” Fergus said as he hurried on through the darkness towards the stoas that led eastwards and to the Roman public square.
The night was balmy and as they approached the Roman agora, the crowds of late night revellers grew. The Greeks knew how to party - Fergus was willing to give them that. Athenian nightlife was one of the wildest he had ever experienced and Greek parties were known to go on for days. From the taverns and bars, the noise of music, singing, shouting and laughing spilled out into the street. Prostitutes hung around on corners and in doorways, trying to catch the attention of the passers-by. In an alley, filled with stinking and decomposing garbage, a few stray dogs were locked into a vicious
fight with each other - their barks and high-pitched yelps rending the night air. Fergus knew exactly where he was going. The place was not far from Hadrian’s own house. His boss’s affair with the banker’s wife had already caused a scandal that had tarnished Hadrian’s reputation. But his boss had not cared and had simply brushed it aside, as if it was inconsequential. And one day, Fergus thought grimly, Hadrian was going to misjudge the situation and end up with a knife in his throat, put there by an enraged husband.
The smart, terraced town house was down a side street close to the public square. As Fergus caught sight of the building, he paused in the middle of the street. A group of noisy and drunken young men swaggered passed but he paid them no attention. On the second floor of the house a light was on in one of the bedrooms. Reaching out he touched Saadi on her shoulder.
“Go up to the front door and do your innocent messenger routine,” Fergus said, turning to look at her. “Tell whoever answers the door that you have an important message for the lady of the house. Go.”
Saadi nodded and without saying a word, she skipped away. Quickly gesturing for Arlyn to follow him, Fergus hastened after her. Saadi was good at this work for no one saw her as a threat and her sweet, innocent smile seemed to put even the most suspicious at ease. As he watched her approach the door, Fergus exhaled sharply. When he’d first hired Saadi, he’d considered having an affair with her for there had been an attraction, but he’d not been ready to cheat on Galena. So, he had resisted the temptation and after a few weeks the thoughts had subsided and eventually disappeared. But now with Galena back after a two-month absence, he seemed to have sex on the brain again. Focus. Focus. Focus.
Saadi had reached the doorway and was knocking on the door, and as she did, Fergus glanced up at the open window on the second floor. The night however was too noisy and rowdy to catch anything from within the house. A moment later the door opened a fraction and a male face peered down at Saadi. Fergus did not have to say anything. From out of the gloom Arlyn suddenly appeared and rudely and aggressively barged through the doorway and into the house, sending its startled occupant stumbling backwards in fright and surprise. The tall Hibernian was swiftly followed by Fergus and Saadi.
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