“Go on,” I said.
“There were three fingerprints in black ink. He said it was of no concern, probably someone his men roughed up… but he then went missing.”
“See?” Didius said. “Missing. Are you certain he hasn’t gone hunting? Visiting a relative? Tending to a mistress?”
Her sad eyes became menacing when she looked up at Didius. I saw then that the mosaic beneath her depicted Persephone being kidnapped to Hades. Something about that struck me.
“In twenty-seven years of marriage he has slept in my arms every night. He has never left without telling me.”
“Where was he when he disappeared?” I asked.
She finally accepted a cup of water from Kallias and drank as one who finds a stream in the desert. “He was in the andron, the men’s quarters. My servants were preparing me for sleep when a crash came from across the villa. Women are not permitted to enter the andron of course, but the noise startled us so much my servants and I ran to find him. He was gone.”
“Any broken doors? Any blood? Weapons?” Behind her, Didius rolled his eyes and tapped his foot.
“Nothing. But our guards were missing. And they never go missing. They must have scurried off and allowed someone to enter quietly.”
Didius swallowed hard then and said nothing more.
His voice soothing to all of us, Kallias said, “That doesn’t explain what happened to your hair, my child.”
Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and slowly rolled down her ashen cheeks. “I cut it all off and sacrificed it to Hermes, along with the wings of all our chickens… ‘god of thieves, if you can steal my husband, can you steal him back?’” she recited while I rubbed her back.
“Where are the rest of your husband’s men?” Didius asked.
“Gone. Scurried off like rabbits the moment news of my husband’s disappearance spread.”
Didius’ eyes shot open and he swore underneath his breath. Now he was panicked.
“Legate Sertorius, you must ride out to Timoxenos’ house immediately. Search for anything the lady might have missed. Use your training and find this man. Understood?”
I slowly released Phaidra back into Kallias’ arms and stood. “Certainly, sir. I’ll take Tribune Hirtuleius with me—”
“No!” he barked. “No… with Timoxenos’ men gone we’ll need to pull tighter security here. Take that simple shield bearer of yours and nothing more. Any more would slow you down.”
I considered his response carefully, then nodded. “Phaidra, if he is still alive I will bring him home to you. I swear on Jupiter’s black stone,” I said. Perhaps I should have chosen my words more carefully. At the mere implication that he might be dead she fell apart again. I hurried to the exit.
“Legate, if I may have a moment.” Kallias hurried to me with the help of a cane made of olive tree wood.
“Yes, sir.”
There was a slight tremor in his hands and face, but I assumed that might have been a permanent fixture of his old age. He raised a leathery hand to scratch at his forehead as he chose his words carefully. “I’ve spoken with some of the other priests. The auguries and auspices haven’t been this bleak in over a century, they say. I’m afraid something bigger than the disappearance of one man might be afoot, no matter how important the man. The gods are angry with us.”
I considered asking if he knew about Cerberus, but there was no guile about him, no intrigue. He was a simple old priest who believed in the gods’ signs. “I’m inclined to agree,” I said. “What should I do?”
“Go and go quickly. But be careful and keep your sword ready. I do not like you going alone when there are miscreants about.”
“We shall stay off the main road.” I smiled and patted his shoulder. “I will return.”
He kissed me on either cheek. “I will sacrifice to Athena and Poseidon that you do.”
Scroll XIII
Timoxenos’ home was usually bustling, but now we found it empty. No guards watched the road; no slaves tended the fields. The only sound was that of a smoldering fire, smoke still wafting from it.
It seems Phaidra spared nothing in her sacrifice to Hermes. An altar wouldn’t suffice, so a bonfire before the doors of her very house contained the charred remains of wheat, vegetables, fruit, and the wings of her fowl. And her silken red hair.
Castor said, “I’ve never seen a home this big. It’s just your friend that lives here?” He craned his head and peered up at the statues atop the villa.
“The man we are looking for, yes. He and his wife. But they have many servants and guards as well,” I said.
“Where are they then?”
“I’m wondering the same thing.” I held my tunic up to keep the smoke from my nose.
“Perhaps they went searching for him?” Castor said.
I nodded but knew in my heart they’d deserted. With Timoxenos gone and Phaidra unstable, this must have seemed like a perfect opportunity to run. She wasn’t likely to chase them down while her husband remained gone, and their private force was unlikely to do anything about it, either.
Or they feared the bad men might return and take them as well.
We entered the home, an eerie silence hanging over the high walls.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I shouted.
“We’re friendly!” Castor joined me. We heard nothing. “Should we split up, legate?”
“No, I think it’s best if we stay together. I need your protection,” I said. He beamed and blushed, although I was more concerned for his safety than my own.
“What are we looking for?”
Both of us jumped with a start when we heard a rumble upstairs. In one motion I grabbed the hilt of my gladius and positioned it atop my shield. Castor watched me and carefully did the same.
The patter of paws on mosaic floors reverberated.
I exhaled and hung my head. “It’s just the dogs.”
Timo’s favorite mutts ran down the steps like legionaries in formation. They encircled us and greeted us with wagging tails and licks.
Castor knelt and basked in their affection, happier than a man in Elysium.
“So you are the only ones who haven’t left? Loyal beasts, and truly a friend to man,” I said.
“This one looks like my old Pollux!” he said, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
“I think he likes you. Perhaps they were siblings?”
“If I ever became rich, I would have this many dogs. Or maybe more.”
I gestured for him to follow me up the stairs. The andron was the best place to start since that’s the last place Timo was seen. “Is that right, Castor? What else would you have?”
He whistled and patted his leg for the dogs to follow us as he considered his answer. “Children. As many children as dogs. Olives and grapes. I don’t know how to grow all that, but I’d learn. Pigs too. Maybe some chickens, and a house that’s warm in the winter and cold in the summer!” He became more excited as he imagined it.
I smiled. “I believe you’ll need a wife for some of that, my friend.”
“Yes. A wife that really loves me. I was in love once. Did you know that?”
We reached the top of the stairs and made for the men’s quarters—a a square room with couches lining the walls in a U shape. It was notably more cluttered than the rest of the home, with grand chalices and amphorae of wine littering the room.
“I did not know that. Tell me about her,” I said, kneeling to inspect the concrete for any signs of confrontation.
“Well, I don’t remember her name. She was older than me and had yellow hair. My friend Cassius gave me a few coins that morning and I used that to pay her. She said she gave me a price she didn’t give to anyone else.” He smiled. “She fell asleep beside me and I knew she loved me from how safe she felt. At least I think it was love. Maybe when I get home I’ll marry her.”
“I think that’s a fine plan, Castor,” I said, although of course it wasn’t. I found twine on the floor and coiled it a
round my hand, inspecting it for blood. There was nothing. I tested its strength and decided it was certainly strong enough to restrain a man if tied properly.
Another clamor sounded downstairs, and I turned to find that the dogs had followed us, anxious for human affection.
“Do you think they have more pups?” Castor lit up.
“No, I don’t. Quiet now.” I pulled him farther into the room and knelt.
The entrance door opened. Footsteps echoed through the empty house.
“When we find the bitch, I want the first go at ’er,” a rough male voice said.
“What gives you the right?”
“Because I was the first to mention it.”
“Ridiculous. We’ll roll dice for it,” another said.
I closed my eye and focused all my energy on what I could hear. If they had been quiet and careful before, they certainly were taking a different tact to abduction now.
Castor whispered, his voice cracking, “Legate?”
I ignored him and tried to count. There were three of them. No, four. How many more could be waiting outside? I inhaled slowly and calmed myself. The faster my heart beat the more present and controlled I felt. “Castor,” I whispered, “I need you to do exactly as I do and follow my direction. Understand?”
“Who are these men?” he said, a familiar tremor developing in his limbs. His helm had fallen to the side awkwardly, blocking part of his vision.
“I believe they’re the men who took Timoxenos. We need to be quiet.” I strained to hear again and could sense they had split off, searching different rooms.
Footsteps—perhaps a single pair—drew near. I turned to Castor and placed a finger to my lips. I moved toward the doorway and crouched beside it. Castor followed with one hand on his hilt and the other covering his mouth as if there was no other way to cease his panting.
The dogs, perceiving that others were joining us, took off out of the room and in all directions. I held out my arm to ensure Castor didn’t follow them.
Within moments, I heard one of the dogs yelp. Then more.
“Stupid mutt!”
“How many of these beasts did this fool have? I’m going to roast them up if they snap at me,” another shouted.
“Focus on the bitch. You can return to kicking dogs afterwards.” They laughed.
I turned to Castor and shook my head. To my surprise his fear had transformed into rage.
“Oh, Phaidra! We have a gift for you,” a man close to the andron shouted.
“Four gifts, and mine’s the largest,” another said, farther away. They all laughed, and I knew that the closest was about to enter.
I pulled the pugio dagger from my calf and tucked myself as close as I could to the wall.
A fat man in a conical helm entered, not but a few feet from my face. He couldn’t be bothered to look around. He walked past us, toward an amphora he was hoping might have another drop, if I had to guess.
I broke from the wall and crept up behind him. In one swift motion I covered his mouth with one hand and thrust the dagger into his chest with the other. His teeth sank into the soft flesh of my palm and I did all I could to remain silent. I wedged the pugio free and stabbed again, and a third time.
He fell limp in my arms, and I braced to keep his rotund body from crashing into the floor.
“The longer we have to look, the rougher we’re going to be with you!”
“Don’t worry, my peach. You’re coming with us either way.”
They continued to shout from all over the house as I nodded for Castor to follow close behind me. His sword was drawn and at the ready.
We crept as quietly as we could back to the stairway. From there I could see a beam of light pouring in from the other side of the villa. Someone was searching the balcony. Two left in the house.
We moved slow to avoid alerting them, but every step seemed louder than the last.
One of the dogs began to snarl downstairs.
“Ouch! This bastard mutt bit me!” one man yelled.
I knew his location then—in the courtyard.
“Kill him and move on then. Stop your bellyaching,” another shouted from the back, where I imagined the kitchen might have been.
The barking ceased, was replaced with whimpering, then silence.
“I’m bleedin’ something fierce,” the man in the courtyard said.
We made it to the bottom of the steps with several of growling dogs surrounding us. They couldn’t distinguish friend from foe.
I stretched out to them as slowly as I could manage. One smelt me and was pacified. The others were not. The hair on their backs raised up like a legionaries’ plume and vicious barks erupted from them.
“Damnit I said to kill them!”
“It’s not me,” the other cried, and then both intruders silenced. Sandals stomped toward us from multiple directions.
We froze, but it was too late. One of them entered first, slack-jawed and stunned to find a Roman there instead of a helpless woman.
I sent my dagger spinning at him. It wedged into his throat as he collapsed beneath a statue of Phaidra as Aphrodite, flailing his legs like an he had Apollo’s curse.
Something struck me and I almost lost my senses.
“Legate!” Castor cried and I looked down to find the feathers of an arrow suspended from my breastplate and caught sight of an archer beside two ornate busts of Apollo in the distance.
I lifted my shield. “Get to the horses!” I shouted, running toward the assailant. My breathing was wheezy, but my limbs were still strong. If I was bleeding out, I still had time. Time enough to at least ensure the boy made it out alive.
An arrow wedged into the shield. My enemy then threw down his shield and I heard steel sliding from a scabbard.
“Legate!” Castor bellowed.
“Do as I say!” I shouted.
I ducked behind my shield and charged until it crashed into the assailant. He stepped back and tried to swing overhand. I lifted up and blocked it with the shield and grabbed his throat with my right hand. I cracked his head back into one of the busts, sending it shattering to the ground. I squeezed as tight as I could, the bones of his neck cracking under the pressure. He beat against the shield with depleting strength. I cast him to the ground, released the shield, and struggled to draw the gladius from my hip. The angle wasn’t right and I couldn’t bring it free, but I continued to tighten my grip on his throat.
He reached up with near death’s desperation and jammed his thumb into my only eye. Unable to stop myself, I cried out as I felt for my shield again. I lifted it up and crashed it into his temple. Then again.
His force was dwindling. Mine was expanding. I cracked the shield into his face again. I wedged myself free of his grip and grabbed hold of the shield with both hands and then with a final roar I sent the shield into his face one last time. One of his eyes bulged out, but both of them were empty as they looked back at me, and blood poured from several places. He was dead.
I rolled to my back and tried to catch my breath. But the last of them was already upon me. Before I could even register it, one thrust his great sword down upon me. As if the gods took over and controlled my limbs, I snagged my gladius free in an instant and batted the sword away.
He recoiled but came back again quickly, careful not to give me time enough to collect my balance.
I held my sword out enough to block it, but the pain in my ribs was beginning to reverberate. He straightened and poised to strike again. I lifted my blade horizontally but knew I could no longer hold off his assault. I closed my eyes and for a moment I saw the Nursian fields and my family there upon it. The man gasped and when I looked up again the tip of a gladius was piercing through the man’s sternum.
He grimaced, blood gurgling from his throat. He fell to the side, revealing Castor there behind him.
“Legate, are you all right?” he asked, suddenly more panicked than he’d ever been. He reached to help me up.
“We must go!” I
sprang to my feet and pushed him toward the exit.
“My sword. I could not wedge it free,” he cried.
“We’ll get a new one,” I shouted as we reached the exit. He’d brought the horses to the front, where they pawed nervously and shook their heads against the reins.
I reached down for the arrow and broke off the end of it before grabbing onto my steed’s mane and hoisting myself up. I managed to shout ‘lead!’ despite the lack of breath in my lungs.
Castor took off and I kicked my horse into following after him, not knowing what would be following behind us.
Scroll XIV
The arrow hadn’t pierced my flesh. My breastplate and the chainmail beneath it served their purpose, but the force was still enough to keep me doubled over in pain. I couldn’t be certain, but I assumed I was purple and blue. I clutched the wound with one hand and the reins with the other. We rode and we rode fast, driving shepherds and their bleating sheep running off the path.
We dashed under trees and through thorny thickets, but my mind reexamined the attack at Timoxenos’ over and over again, remembering certain details I’d at first forgotten, and perhaps inventing others. Killing these men was different than combat. There was a personal element which sometimes escapes you on the battlefield. The animosity in their eyes, the sour stench of their breath hot on my flesh. Were these the men that drove Kirrha’s family into slavery? Those who plotted to bring Rome to her knees?
With no time to waste, we passed the stables and made straight for the priest’s home, where we hoped to find Didius.
He and Phaidra were still there, along with Kallias and a few other officers. They jumped with a start when we burst into the courtyard, faces covered in soot from the hard riding. Phaidra’s eyes lit up when she saw us, but then I slowly watched her heart break again as she realized her husband was not with us, and we did not bring good tidings.
Didius jumped to his feet. “What’s happened?”
“We were attacked.” I bent over and placed my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. There was still a wheeze present I was unaccustomed to.
Whom Gods Destroy: A Novel of Ancient Rome (The Sertorius Scrolls Book 4) Page 12