The Broken Lance

by Jess Steven Hughes

  A light breeze drifting from the direction of the cattle pens, and slaughter houses along the Tiber reeked of dung, the acrid smell of dead animals, and raw sewage.

  With the exception of the guards’ clattering armor, all was quiet as we marched down the Palatine. We passed the marketplace, temples, and basilicas and climbed the narrow, winding streets en route to Sabinus’s home on Quirinal Hill. His home was in the wealthier part of the region, a cluster of spacious homes and mansions, bordered by wide lanes.

  As we approached Sabinus’s home, we heard a scream.

  “Halt!” Sabinus ordered.

  I nodded towards the house bathed in moonlight. “Assassins. Four of them are climbing the wall.”

  “We’ve made too much noise, they see us,” Crispus said.

  Like spiders, the dark figures scurried up ropes held in place by grappling hooks and disappeared over the side.

  A chill ran down my back. They’ll kill Eleyne!

  I glanced to the grate-covered window of her room on the second story. The dim light from the olive lamp was still burning.

  Sabinus turned to the men. “After them, before they kill my wife and my ward!”

  Swords hissed as the guardsmen drew them in unison from their sheaths.

  Crispus, the Praetorians, and I followed Sabinus at a dead run as he led the way.

  I ripped off my cloak and pulled my sword. My first instinct was to race ahead, throwing caution to the wind to rescue Eleyne. But why did I think of her and not the rest of the household? Was I developing feelings for her that I hadn’t thought about since Kyar’s death? Now wasn’t the time to think about it—my training and discipline came into play. We didn’t know how many assassins were inside the home. We had to work together as a team.

  Sabinus motioned us to halt a few paces from the front gate. Pulsating light from torches ensconced in two bordering pillars spilled across the bloodied body of a slave guard sprawled by the entrance.

  The senator turned to us. “Stay alert, those butchers may have set a trap.” He motioned to me. “Marcellus, take ten men and go to Eleyne’s room. Sergeant Crispus, you and the rest of the men follow me. We must find my wife!”

  We entered through the narrow vestibule leading to the atrium and beyond. Oil lamps set into wall niches gave off a murky light. We stepped over the figure of the dead gatekeeper. Blood from his corpse flowed between the small tile pieces of the mosaic floor. Beyond the remains of the other slave guard was face down in the compluvium, the basin’s water turning a crimson shade. I prayed we weren’t too late to save Eleyne and Lady Aurelia.

  I rushed to the brick stairway at the far end of the atrium that led up to the second floor.

  “This way,” I said to the men, “Lord Sabinus’s ward, the Princess Eleyne’s room, is the second door on the right.” I dashed up the stairs.

  For the space of a few heartbeats, I stopped at the top and looked in the direction of the poorly lit hallway. Candra stood in front of Eleyne’s door warding off the attacks of three assassins. He slammed one against the opposite wall with a loud grunt. The bandit dropped to the floor like a rag doll, dead. The second one came after the big Indian, knife in hand. Candra grabbed and twisted his arm until it snapped. The thug screamed as Candra threw him into the path of the other villain.

  At the same time, another assassin snuck past Candra into Eleyne’s room. My heart jumped in my throat. No!

  Before I could react, an assassin leaped out of the shadows, swinging his sword at my head. I blocked the blade with my weapon, metal banging on metal. He nearly pushed me off the stairs. I started to fall, but the guardsmen behind me caught and pushed me forward. I gained my balance and parried the bandit’s weapon down to the right. Instantly, I raised my sword, whisked it down, and sliced off his hand. A blood-curdling scream shot from his mouth. He grabbed the stump and went down on his knees. I slammed my blade again, decapitating him, blood spurting onto my tunic. The body fell to the floor with a thump next to the head and hand.

  At the same time, the Praetorians had slipped past me and confronted three more assassins. The troops made easy work of them. I spotted Candra lifting another assassin off the floor and throwing him down the end of the hallway followed by a crack and gurgle.

  I stepped passed him but paused for a heartbeat before entering Eleyne’s room. Running into a trap was the last thing I needed. I kicked open the door. In the low light, Eleyne stood in the far corner holding a bloody dagger. A dead man lay at her feet. She saw me and screamed.

  From behind Eleyne’s clothing screen sprang an assassin. A dagger sailed past my face, missing by a finger’s width. Pulling an army short sword from his waistband, he jabbed it toward my side. I parried it, but my blade slipped off his. Quickly, he raised his weapon, the edge of the blade grazed my left side as it slipped by. Pain shot through my body. I swung my sword upward, the blade slicing through his crotch, into his intestines. He howled, dropped his weapon, and doubled over, the foul odor of filth filling my nose. I grabbed his hair, pulled back his head, and ran the edge of my sword across his throat. Blood gushed from the wound. He slumped to the floor, dead.

  Eleyne dropped her knife, stepped over the body, and ran to me. Tears welled within her eyes as she placed her hands around my waist and head upon my chest. “Oh, Marcellus, I was so scared. They . . . they were going to kill me!” She dropped her hands, stepped back, and gasped. “Marcellus, you’re bleeding.”

  “Most of the blood isn’t mine,” I said.

  Eleyne looked at her hands, stained with blood from my wound. “But what about your side?”

  “It’s just a graze. What about you, that blood on your skirt?”

  Eleyne glanced back to the corpse. “It’s his blood. I killed him. He must have been surprised a woman could defend herself. Then that other animal came in just before you killed him. He must have sneaked past Candra like the other one I . . . ,” she hesitated, “I killed.” Her voice trailed away. “All women of my tribe are taught to defend themselves, but I’ve never done that before.”

  Three Praetorians stepped into the room. “We’ve killed them all, sir,” the tallest of the three said. “On this floor and below. Altogether, there were fifteen of them.”

  “Is Lady Aurelia all right?” I asked. Blood slipped through my fingers as I held my side.

  “Yes, sir. Lord Sabinus saw to that. He, the sergeant, and the other men killed every last one of the bastards.” He saw Eleyne. “Sorry.”

  She shrugged.

  “How many did we lose?” I asked.

  “Four, sir. The butchers were professionals, they put up one hell of a fight.”

  Eleyne nodded to me. “He needs a doctor.”

  “The same goes for her slave, the Indian,” I said. “He saved her life.”

  “So did you,” she said.

  Sabinus entered the room, tunic spattered with blood. “I’ll send for my personal physician.” He nodded to the shortest of the three guardsmen and gave him directions to the doctor’s home. The soldier raced downstairs.

  Sabinus stepped to Eleyne. “Are you unharmed, my dear?”

  “Yes, my Lord. I’m just a little shaken, that’s all. What about Lady Aurelia?”

  He grinned. “She is unharmed. She had the presence of mind to bar the door to the room before the assassins could enter. We arrived just as they were breaking through it.”

  “Thank Mother Goddess for that,” Eleyne said.

  “I thank all the gods,” Sabinus said. “Unfortunately, my cook died trying to block their way. Alexias was wounded and left for dead, but he will live. Gods only know what they would have done to her and you.”

  “Don’t forget Candra. He saved my life.” She looked to me. “So did Marcellus.”

  “I won’t,” Sabinus said. He frowned and shook his head. “The butchers murdered half my household. They may have been slaves, but they were good people, loyal to me and my wife. Gallus will pay for his treachery.”

  Sabi
nus ordered the Praetorians to assist me downstairs and left the room.

  I told them I didn’t need any help and managed to go down on my own. The guards followed me into the atrium. The floor was riddled with the corpses—assassins, soldiers, Sabinus’s slaves. Bloody footprints crisscrossed the area. The place reeked of body fluids and the coppery smell of blood. I sat on a couch and waited for the physician to arrive.

  Eleyne fetched Candra, his tunic ripped and bloodstained, and led him behind us. He bled from both sides of his torso, lacerations to both arms. Despite the blood, the wounds appeared to be minor. Eleyne told him to sit on the floor next to my couch.

  She came to my side, kneeled, and touched my shoulder. “Oh, Marcellus, you’re still bleeding. I’ll get clean cloths for you and Candra.”

  Minutes later she returned with several clean, white cloths. She called for one of the surviving slaves and gave him dressings to clean Candra’s injuries. She approached and pressed a cloth to my wound and held it in place. Tears came to her eyes. “I couldn’t bear it if anything had happened to you, Marcellus.”

  I sucked in my breath. I had no idea she felt this way about me. I had long tried to deny it, but I felt the same. All I could do was smile. I was about to say more, but Sabinus returned.

  Sabinus scowled. “No physician?”

  “No, sir, not yet,” I answered.

  “If he isn’t here in the next few minutes, I’ll have him flogged.” Changing the subject, he said, “We’re in luck. One assassin survived long enough to confess.”

  “What did he say?” I asked, feeling groggy, shock setting in from the wound.

  “He said an Egyptian hired them.”

  “It has to be the same one we arrested, the one who confessed,” I said.

  Sabinus’s nostrils flared for the length of three or four heartbeats. “It is. The thug said they were mercenaries hired by an Egyptian who bragged about working for someone high above him. No expense was to be spared in hiring the best. He and the other vermin were to kill my entire household, including you and Eleyne. That’s all he knew.”

  I shuddered, pain from the cut piercing my side.

  Sabinus exhaled. “He said they received five hundred pieces of gold in advance and would receive another five hundred once they had murdered everyone.”

  “Then old Gallus is behind it,” I said.

  Sabinus turned and glared at the physician as he arrived. “It’s about time.” He nodded to me and then Candra. “You are to see to the wounds of these two brave men first. If either dies, so will you.”

  Chapter 32 - November, 44 AD

  The same night, when Sabinus’s home was being attacked, the Praetorian Guard arrested the fourteen senators named on the conspiracy list. Carted off to Tullianum Prison and questioned by the Supreme Rack Master, Abroghast, he forced each member to confess their part to the sordid plot. Later, they were sent home under house arrest. One had died during Abroghast’s questioning.

  The traitors were given a choice of standing trial and placing themselves at the mercy of the court in hopes of acquittal. Or, do the honorable thing and commit suicide, thereby leaving all properties, titles, and goods intact for loved ones. Before dawn, four had opened their veins in hot baths at their luxurious mansions. Within three days, the other nine were tried in a closed proceeding presided over by the praetor, the chief civil magistrate, and a special panel of judges appointed by the emperor. Seven were found guilty, and chose death by suicide. The judges exonerated the remaining two.

  In the meantime, news of the arrests and trials became public. Fearing a riot, the entire City Guard and Watch were placed on patrol. The Praetorian Guard protected the palace, the Senate, and other public buildings. Rumors spread about demands for a return to a republican form of government, a time long passed. Many, who had spread the false tales, were arrested for treason and dispatched in the deep bowels of Tullianum Prison.

  Senator Gallus was kept under house arrest while awaiting trial. Neither he nor his family were allowed to leave their residence. Sabinus told me about Gallus’s outrage of being accused of treason and murder, and his anger upon learning that the information had been found in the family mausoleum.

  *

  “It has begun as I had expected it would,” Sabinus said. He didn’t look up from his office desk while reading the dispatch from a palace clerk. He motioned for me and Crispus to sit across from him. We waited for him to elaborate. Light from the cold mid-morning sun filtered through the opaque windows built into one side of the room. A smoky brazier sat in one corner giving off little heat. I stifled a cough as its acrid fumes penetrated my mouth and nose. Crispus snorted.

  “Has Gallus started lining up votes in Senate?” I asked. Five days had passed since Gallus had been confined to his home.

  Sabinus nodded. “He may be under house arrest, but servants are allowed to come and go, supposedly, for shopping purposes. Obviously, they are passing verbal messages to his cronies.”

  “What now, sir?” Crispus asked.

  Sabinus glanced to Crispus and back to me. “I am calling in all favors from my friends in the Senate. It was easy for the special judges to try the other conspirators without the consent of the Senate, they had no influence, but Gallus is another matter.”

  “Definitely,” I said. “He has power, influence, and wealth.”

  “He does, but it will be to the emperor’s advantage to have him tried publicly.”

  I pulled my cloak tighter about my shoulders against the cold. “I wish I could believe that.”

  Crispus nodded in agreement.

  Sabinus tossed the scroll on his desk. “Both of you should. Narcissus correctly pointed out to Claudius that such a trial would show his, ‘magnificent benevolence.’”

  “But the emperor has shown benevolence in the past,” I said.

  Sabinus leaned back in his chair. “Nevertheless, he will be seen as a just ruler who abides by the decisions of the Senate, strengthening his considerable credibility. And he also attends all their meetings taking a seat as an ordinary senator, and gives his opinion only if asked. But there is another point in his favor.”

  “Which is . . . ?” I asked without interrupting his lawyer’s dissertation.

  Crispus arched an eyebrow.

  Sabinus held up a hand as if obvious. “Claudius has restored the provinces of Macedonia and Achaea in Greece to Senate control.”

  I turned my head to one side, puzzled by his words.

  “Don’t you see?” Sabinus said in a manner as if tutoring a pupil, “They owe him a debt.”

  “But would they dare find Gallus not guilty?” I asked.

  Sabinus leaned forward again and seemed to consider the possibility. “Perhaps, incredible as it would seem. A few senators have been eliminated during the last three years since he came to power, but not enough to make them fear him as they did Tiberius and Caligula, who killed dozens. They still view him,” Sabinus looked around the office and peered at the door and whispered, “as an idiot. And at times he is, but other times he borders on the brilliant.”

  Crispus looked at me and then Sabinus. “He is taking a great risk, sir.”

  Sabinus sighed. “That is why I’m taking action that may compromise my values, but safeguard the empire. It will insure that the Senate brings in the correct verdict.”

  “Must it always be that way?” I asked. “Political intrigue and backbiting even when the life of the emperor is at stake.”

  “Especially when the life of the emperor is at stake,” Sabinus said in a rueful voice. He leaned forward. “This is not the army. Roman noblemen are past-masters of palace intrigue. Army plotting by comparison pales to the wolves of the Senate. Generals don’t have the patience to bide their time like the Senate. They are more open and more inclined to use force of arms, as did the Praetorians when they killed Caligula and raised Claudius to the purple.”

  A chill ran up my back. My body shuddered. “Then what are we going to do?”


  “Counteract with persuasion, whenever I can. The Senate is not completely corrupt—yet. If I have to do a favor here and there, I will. It is part of the political game.” He straightened his back. “However, I hope my prosecution speech at the trial will be enough to command the votes needed for conviction. We will present the documents, which I have safely hidden, and the confessions of the convicted. It is all very damning evidence—as Gallus well knows.”

  *

  The intrigues continued. We received rumors that the consul, Titus Statilius Taurus, a pinched-face nobleman, who would be the presiding judge at Gallus’s trial, was presented with a young slave girl noted for her sexual dexterity by one of Gallus’s supporters. We had heard other senators had also received presents of not only money, but young slave girls and boys. No wonder Sabinus had to resort to doing favors for his colleagues.

  If this weren’t enough, we noticed with concern during our daily visits to Claudius’s chambers that he had reverted to his usual lackluster personality and absentmindedness. He started keeping company with a young almond-colored Parthian slave girl while holding morning audience. Sabinus was informed by Posides, the court-chamberlain, that Claudius was occupied with her a great part of the time. Apparently, his wife, Messalina, known as the whore of Rome because her amorous exploits, didn’t seem too concerned. Rumors said she had slept with half of the Senate. I prayed that she was doing so on the emperor’s behalf.

  Chapter 33 - Early December, 44 AD

  Within a week after the trial of the surviving nine senators, and two weeks after the assault on Sabinus’s home, the day for Gallus’s trial had arrived. The emperor, at the suggestion of Sabinus and Vitellius, dared not wait any longer. The Senate and the people grew restless. A few minor riots had erupted and ruthlessly smashed by the Praetorians.