“What if I told you this was happening to Romans?” I said to Herennius.
He stared back blankly, trying to determine if this was another riddle. “Are they?” he said, his eyes widening.
“I don’t know. But I have reason to believe the same thing is happening to Roman citizens.”
The veins in his neck bulged. “Hyrkanos!” he roared.
Two more guards appeared and charged down the dark hallway. They didn’t have enough time to assess the situation. One drew a sword on me, but even with the darkness and one eye I could see it coming.
I grabbed his arm and cracked my knee into his sternum. I tossed him aside as my men pounced to restrain him.
The next hesitated, but I didn’t. I drew my blade and slapped his from his hand, then sent my elbow into his nose. I grabbed his arm and twisted it until he fell back. “Where is Hyrkanos?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Who are you?” I twisted his arm until he grimaced. “He isn’t here!”
My heart sank but I tightened my grip. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m right here, you barbarians!” A voice shouted from behind us.
I turned to see a dark figure in the doorway behind my men.
“Let him through,” I said.
The men parted on either side but maintained a grip on their swords and watched his every step.
He swaggered through the opening, stopping to look each of my men up and down. “What has Hyrkanos done to deserve such disrespect?”
His voice didn’t belong to a Greek. A Cilician perhaps? A Thracian?
“Let’s talk, you and I,” I said.
“That’ll cost you. My time is expensive,” he said, swaying from whatever drink was in his hand. I flashed just enough of my gladius for him to see the shine in the dim light. “I guess I don’t really have a choice then, do I?” He moved on past me and gestured for us to follow.
“Herennius and Castor, on me,” I said. “The rest, stand by and keep your sandals on their necks.” I pointed to the groaning slavers on the floor.
I needed Herennius to come for protection. I wanted Castor so I didn’t do anything I’d regret.
Hyrkanos led us to an open corridor and lit two lamps, illuminating several tables overflowing with empty cups and spilled wine.
“Wine?” he offered, pouring himself a cup. We said nothing, “Girl? You Romans like our girls.”
“It’s of Romans I want to speak,” I said, standing over him rather than sitting alongside him at the table.
“One might have assumed.” He drank freely.
“I was told every slave exchanged in Athens goes through you,” I said. “Is it true?”
He smiled and gave a slight nod.
I exhaled. “And how long have you served in this capacity?”
He poured another cup and offered it to Herennius and Castor, but I held out my hand to stop the transfer.
“I’ve been the lion atop the hill for… ten years now,” he said, “under the auspices of Rome I might add.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I said. He shrugged.
Rage boiled up in my gut like water over a furnace. I thought about what I might ask him but all I wanted to do was smash his teeth into the table before him.
“What is it you wish to ask, Roman? I’d like to continue the festivities,” he said.
My mind froze as I consider the question, until he faked a yawn. “My friend Apollonius and his niece Anaiah were enslaved in Athens less than ten years ago. Do you know of them?”
The room was silent accept for Hyrkanos slurping and my heavy breathing through flared nostrils. I saw the shadows of Herennius and Castor shifting uncomfortably.
“I’ve enslaved many uncles and many nieces,” he said. “Many Apollonius’ and many Anaiah’s. I apologize, Roman. If that’s why you’re here, you’ll find no answers from me.” He swept his thin black hair behind his ear and shook his head with feigned contrition.
I stepped closer. “His father was named Yulios and he was indebted to opiate peddlers.”
He let his head back and clutched his belly. The laughter he omitted was piercing.
“Now this fool I remember! A businessman like myself has his hand in many enterprises. He purchased my product and he owed me a fortune. I took his son and granddaughter in payment. Even still I never made back what he owed me.”
My eye wouldn’t stop blinking and my vision tunneled. If I hadn’t felt the quiet gaze of Castor behind me, I would have buried my gladius in his neck.
“Where is the girl?” I said. He took a sip and shrugged. I brandished my gladius and sat it on the table beside him.
“Oh! Now I remember. The girl. We sold her for a few barrels of grain to the sanctuary of Delphi, to be some sort of nymph of Apollo,” he said. “Who knows what they do with children there. If it had been up to me, I would have held on to her for a while. Give her enough time to grow some tits and she would’ve sold for double, even tri—”
I threw a right cross into his jaw. He flew back and off his chair but collected himself and returned to his seat as if nothing happened. His split lips creased into a smile and he dabbed the blood from his teeth.
“Hit me all you’d like, Roman. But you know I don’t act alone. I take orders from someone above me, just like you.”
“The same who orders you to enslave Romans?”
He wagged a finger at me. “Now, now. You know I can’t speak about that. They would kill me.”
“I will kill you if you don’t.” I picked up my sword and placed the tip under his chin. Castor gasped and Herennius grabbed his arm to restrain him.
He shook his head. “No you won’t. See, I know you. You have orders and answer to someone just like I do. You cannot kill me.”
I considered plunging the sword through his soft throat, but eventually slammed it back down on the table.
He smiled triumphantly.
I grabbed him by the throat. “Tell me this then: does Timoxenos have anything to do with this? Even a nod of the head will do.”
He laughed and spit blood from his chin onto my hand.
“No, Roman,” he said. “They don’t like Timoxenos very much.”
Part II
Scroll X
I was summoned before Didius the next day. When I arrived at the priest’s home, I found none of Didius’ usual attendants. Only Herennius was present, and I immediately knew word of our incident had spread before I could draw up a formal report.
I joined Herennius at attention before the Proconsul, who was leaned up against a column and wringing his hands together.
“Do you know why you are here?” he asked, hardly above a whisper.
“Sir, I—”
“Do not even speak!” Didius bellowed, storming toward us. His eyes darted rapidly between Herennius and myself, considering which to chastise first. “You… well, I don’t know whether to call you fools or traitors. Do you know what you have done?”
I struggled to swallow and shook my head.
“We do not, sir,” Herennius said for us both.
“You abandoned your damned post. Two rival athletic clubs fought in the agora and several shops burned to the ground.” My knees weakened. “Do you understand the trouble this will cause me?” He labored to control his breath and I was certain he was about to strike me. The gentle old priest Kallias squirmed behind him, and I believe his presence was the only thing that stayed Didius’ hand.
“Proconsul, if I could only—”
He held up his hand to stop me. “I don’t give a brass obol for your explanation, legate. I’m inclined to have you whipped before the legion.” He turned to Herennius and squared up to him. “Despite your experience and seniority, I’m inclined to say you were simply following the orders of a rebellious legate.” He turned and glowered at me. “But you. You knew better. I’ve wasted hours explaining to you the delicacy of this mission and you seek to jeopardize everything! Now… what have you to say for yourself?” His voic
e calmed but his nostrils continued to flare.
“I have it on good authority that Romans are being enslaved here in Greece, Proconsul. I felt it was in Rome’s best interest to—”
“And why shouldn’t Romans be enslaved? We enslave others, don’t we? Reminds us that we still exist in the wilderness, that danger lurks around every corner. That’s what is wrong with the Republic, Sertorius,” he shouted, spittle flying from his lips. “We feel too safe, we feel protected by status, wealth, and connections. That’s what I know that the rest don’t. There will always be someone stronger lurking in the shadows, waiting to take what we’ve acquired.” He seemed to forget we were there.
I shifted my weight and did all I could to hide my shock. He could have been tried for treason himself just for uttering something like that. His words were usually calculated and measured, but he now roared without restraint.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Of course we’ll do something to stop it if this is true. But what is this ‘good authority’ you speak of? Where is this ring of spies you’ve acquired?” He glanced around the room, hoping to find them.
I bit my lip and considered whether or not to tell the truth. My father’s guidance eventually prevailed. “I learned it from a beggar, sir.”
Didius stared back blankly until he doubled over with laughter. “Truly, legate, I had no idea you were so humorous.” He dabbed a tear from his eye. “I’ll be sure to find you a position in the theater upon our return to Rome.” His face hardened and his eyes became sinister. “Because you’ll never serve in the legion again if you speak the truth.”
I’d been handling this the best I could but was beginning to lose my patience. I was aware of the mistake I made in abandoning the agora, but I wasn’t used to being mocked so. “I’ve time in espionage, Proconsul, if you recall,” I said, wringing my hands behind my back. “I understand how to gather intelligence, and I’ve been doing so since the moment we arrived. The beggar was simply the man who pointed me to a likely culprit.”
“And when you found this slaver, this… Hyrkanos… did you find hordes of the good and faithful citizens he’s reportedly stolen?”
“He said as much with his own mouth,” Herennius said.
For the first time the indignation in Didius’ eyes was replaced with a shred of belief. “And if any of this is true, you should have come to me.” His fury returned. “We could have strategized and planned and taken a whole damned legion down upon them!”
“I know I was wrong, Proconsul,” I said. “I humbly request your pardon.”
He shook his head like a disappointed father and turned to Kallias. “Bring me some water. I’m boiling like a hot spring.”
“Permission to speak, sir?” Herennius said.
Didius considered it and nodded.
“I don’t know if the slaves we found there were Roman or not. But if there is even a single Roman being treated like this… something must be done.”
He spoke with enough conviction that Didius nodded, slumped onto a bench, and exhaled deeply. “Looks like we won’t be going home in October after all. Good work, Sertorius.” He smirked.
I lowered my gaze.
He gulped from the water as Kallias smiled at the two of us, offering his silent sympathies. Didius set aside the cup and turned his attention back to us. “I’m docking a week’s pay from the both of you. It will pay the merchants who lost their stores. Any objections?”
We said nothing.
“Good. And let me make myself clear,” he said, waiting for eye contact. “If I sense even a shred of insubordination again, I’ll have you both stripped of rank and assigned to latrine duty for the remainder of our term.”
“Yes, Proconsul,” we said in unison.
“Now we understand each other. The two of you will begin to regain my trust by escorting Timoxenos back to his villa. And if I hear so much as a word about Roman slaves without you presenting one in shackles, I’ll sell the both of you to slavers myself.”
“Understood, Proconsul,” I said, deflating.
“Now get out of my sight.” He flicked his wrist and turned back to Kallias.
We waited for Timoxenos outside the western gate as the sun set and darkness crept over the hills.
“Why would he want to travel at night?” Castor asked from beside my horse, tugging anxiously at his chainmail.
“Because we can avoid the traffic, my boy!” The voice which could only belong to Timoxenos sounded in the distance, followed by the footsteps of his armed guard. “That, and I don’t think anyone will give us any trouble. We’ve got more blades than a field of grass.” His horse clopped to my side and he extended his hand.
“Sorry I wasn’t able to meet you last night, Timoxenos. I…”
“Timoxenos hears everything, lad. I know what happened, and you have no need to explain yourself to me,” he said. “Shall we begin? I’m ready to sleep off this bloody hangover.”
Herennius took the front and led our men out before us.
“Is Phaidra not accompanying us?” I asked.
“She stayed home. It’s quite remarkable really. For one so bejeweled as my love, you’d think she’d enjoy the pomp and spectacle of a festival. But alas, she prefers moonlight wine drinking and peach picking.” He grinned at the thought of her.
My mind flooded with questions I wanted to ask but I also recalled Didius’ warning. I decided to remain quiet about that topic—for now. “So tell me how you enjoyed the festival.”
“Shh!” Timoxenos said, holding out his arm, “You hear that?”
I stopped and listened closely to the rustle of the leaves on either side of the road. I awaited bandits and my eye played tricks on me in the form of imaginary spears flying through the darkness. I whispered, “I hear nothing.”
“Cicadas.” His white teeth shinned in the moonlight. “Can’t you hear their song? They’re out late this year. That means we’re on the brink of resurrection, spiritual awakening. That’s what my father used to say, anyways.” He was almost giddy.
“My father used to say the cicadas were once human, transformed by the muses into creatures that spend their entire lives singing,” I said, somewhat uninterested.
“And what a blessing that was. We all have a song to sing don’t we, Roman?” he asked. He placed one hand on his hip and tightened his grip on the reins with the other. “I believe we need to talk discretely. Isn’t that correct?”
I exhaled with relief.
“I’d very much like that, Timo.”
“Let’s ride on ahead then.” He quickened his steed to a trot, forcing the legion ranks to part before us.
“Uhh, sir… what are you doing?” Herennius reached out to stop us.
“Getting a little fresh air,” Timo said.
“We should maintain the front. For protection.”
Timo pulled back his cloak to reveal an ornamental bronze blade on his hip.
“This is all the protection I need. Besides, this fine specimen here could fight off the worst Greece has to offer.” He pointed to me and winked. Herennius shook his head but protested no further.
We moved out of earshot and slowed to a trot. I waited for him to initiate conversation, and he took his time.
He looked up at the night sky, his eyes bewildered with the light of the stars. “The gods speak to us in many strange ways, don’t they? Insects, constellations, the entrails of animals, the flight of birds…” He lost himself in thought.
“If I were a god I might pick different means. Or perhaps I’d be more direct and speak my orders outright.”
He chuckled. “Imagine an officer giving orders to his legion by the flight of birds. I’d say Rome would have trouble conquering the world were that the case.” I smiled and tried to reply, but he spoke first. “I believe that the gods orchestrated our meeting. After all these years you’re the first Roman who’s shown the slightest interest in uncovering what lies beneath the peaceful veneer of Attika.”
“You’re saying
other Romans have known?”
He shrugged. “One cannot know for certain. But I must assume they knew something. Sometimes it’s easier leaving to the shadows what lives in the shadows. It takes a brave man indeed to take a light to the darkness, knowing a gorgon might be there waiting for him,” he said. “Have you heard the name Cerberus before?” As soon as the word escaped him he craned his head in all directions to ensure no one listened.
I raised an eyebrow. “The three-headed dog that guards Hades?” I was under the impression that everyone knew the tales of Cerberus.
He shook his head. “I’d be much less concerned about a deformed hound.” He turned to me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze even in the darkness. “That is your enemy. Cerberus. You’ll hear the name whispered in taverns and scribbled on buildings in the agora, but no one speaks of them openly. I know not whether this Cerberus is a man or an organization or a militia… but they are the enemies you seek.”
The chill of sweat developed on the nape of my neck. “Cerberus is enslaving Romans?”
He exhaled. “I believe you’re stuck on the idea of a few disappearing men. It appears to be more sinister than that, I’m afraid.”
I tried to speak but my dry tongue clung to the roof of my mouth.
“From all I gather they are bent on Rome’s destruction. Operating in the shadows to villainous ends.”
“How do you know this?” I asked, resisting the idea the same as Didius had previously. This was the stuff of tragic plays in the forum, not reality.
“Timo knows all, remember? I’ve received menacing letters, threatening to end my life for assisting Romans. Each has been stamped with the seal of the three-headed beast.”
“This could be children,” I said. “Or petulant zealots.”
“Some of my men are known to enjoy the pleasures of less than reputable establishments as well. And they report to me the whispers they hear. Cerberus has plans larger than the disappearance of a few merchants and cattle drovers. They’re making alliances. They’re seeking out Rome’s enemies across the Mediterranean. From the Pillars of Heracles to the sand dunes of Parthia.”
Whom Gods Destroy: A Novel of Ancient Rome (The Sertorius Scrolls Book 4) Page 10