Watchmen of Rome

by Watchmen of Rome (retail) (epub)

  Carbo stood, not even raising a hand to rub his face where the stinging slap had fallen. She was right. He had failed. Failed her and Fabilla. The little girl was lost, maybe dead already. If not, soon to be slaughtered as part of Elissa’s insane fantasy. His oath to protect them was worthless after all. He bowed his head and tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

  ‘Carbo. Carbo!’ Vespillo’s tone was commanding.

  Carbo looked up at him, feeling a helpless numbness threatening to overwhelm him.

  ‘Soldier! We do not give up. We are veterans of the Roman legions. If we lose a battle, we pick ourselves up again and fight twice as hard. Rome lost Cannae, but defeated Hannibal. You were at the disaster at the Teutoberg forest, but you were also there when Germanicus returned and regained the lost eagles.’

  ‘Only two of them,’ said Carbo miserably. ‘One remains lost.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ said Vespillo, frustration in his voice, ‘Arminius is dead and Rome fights on. Can we do less, you and I?’

  Carbo held his gaze, feeling the beginnings of a new resolution creep into him. But what could they do?

  ‘Dolabella could be anywhere. Fabilla may already be dead.’

  Rufa screamed louder at these words and Carbo cursed his insensitivity.

  ‘We need to think,’ said Vespillo. ‘Dolabella would only be continuing with his task to catch Fabilla if he thought Elissa was still free. He would consider the contract void if he couldn’t be paid.’

  ‘Maybe. What if he had already been paid? He says he never fails.’

  ‘If he didn’t think Elissa was still free, he would have just killed Fabilla, or maybe Rufa − that would have satisfied his professional pride and kept his reputation intact.’

  Carbo nodded hesitantly. ‘He can’t have taken Fabilla to Elissa’s domus, that is still being guarded by the cohorts. So he must know somewhere else that Elissa would go, maybe somewhere secret. Maybe he has taken Fabilla there.’

  ‘Yes, and he must think Elissa still wants her. That her plans are going ahead.’

  ‘It’s the last day of the Ludi Romani today,’ said Carbo. ‘The whole city partying. The urban cohorts fully stretched keeping order.’

  ‘It was meant for today, wasn’t it?’ said Vespillo. ‘Probably at the climax this afternoon, the great gladiator battle.’

  ‘Yes. And he knows she needed Fabilla alive until that moment, for her… plans. Rufa, you hear that? We think Fabilla must be alive.’

  Rufa looked up at them, misery etched across her features.

  ‘Carbo, please. Find my little girl.’

  Carbo felt his back straighten of its own accord. He placed a hand lightly on her head. ‘We will, I promise.’

  Severa had been hovering nearby, wringing her hands, desperate to help but unsure how. Now she came forward and gently raised Rufa to her feet.

  ‘Come on, darling. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You will be no good to Fabilla when the men bring her back if you are in this state.’

  Carbo and Vespillo dragged Afer inside, laid him against a wall. Vespillo knelt beside the body for a moment, eyes closed, and whispered a prayer to Mercury to conduct his soul safely to the Styx. He slipped a coin into the dead slave’s mouth to pay the boatman, then stood. Funeral arrangements would have to wait.

  ‘We need to talk to Elissa. Come on.’

  * * *

  ‘We need to see Elissa, urgently,’ said Vespillo to Pavo. They stood in Pavo’s office in the headquarters of the urban cohorts.

  ‘That’s not possible at the moment, I’m afraid,’ said Pavo.

  ‘This is urgent,’ said Vespillo. ‘We think a follower of hers is involved in the disappearance of a young girl. Given the cult’s passion for child sacrifice…’

  Pavo blanched. ‘I would help you if I could, but Elissa is no longer here.’

  Carbo felt the knot of anxiety in his gut tighten.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Vespillo. ‘You let her go?’

  ‘No, no, of course not. She was released into the care of one of the Urban Prefect’s men. It didn’t seem right, imprisoning a lady of high standing in our cells, and when he came to request he be responsible for her house arrest…’

  ‘Who?’ said Vespillo. ‘Who requested her?’

  ‘A rather influential freedman named Scrofa. He is not someone you refuse.’

  ‘Tell us where he lives.’

  * * *

  Elissa was not at Scrofa’s domus. Nor indeed was Scrofa, and his doorman had not seen him for some time. They returned to Vespillo’s house in silent despondency. The look on Rufa’s face, hope, then despair when she saw their expressions, gave Carbo a feeling of almost physical pain in his chest.

  Vespillo explained briefly what had happened.

  ‘So how do we find Elissa?’ said Rufa. ‘My girl, she must be with her.’

  ‘Should we try her house?’ said Carbo.

  Vespillo shook his head firmly. ‘A waste of time. Elissa is a fugitive herself now. She knows there are men watching it. There is no way she would be stupid enough to go back there.’

  ‘So who might know where she is? Glaukos and Philon are the only people we have access to that might be privy to her secrets.’

  ‘Glaukos will tell us nothing. Certainly not without coercion, and maybe not even if we tortured him. He is a fanatic. Maybe we would break him eventually, but we don’t have that sort of time.’

  ‘Philon then, let’s talk to him.’

  Vespillo agreed and they made to leave.

  ‘I’m coming too.’

  Vespillo and Carbo exchanged glances. ‘Rufa, I don’t think…’ began Carbo.

  ‘She is the most precious thing in the world to me. She is my life. I’m coming.’

  Carbo raised his eyebrows to Vespillo, who shrugged.

  She strode out of the door, leaving the men to follow in her wake.

  * * *

  Philon sat across the kitchen table from them. Marsia stood in a corner, arms folded, expression furious. Rufa stood beside her, looking dangerous. The tavern had been put back into some sort of order, though some of the chairs and tables showed signs of damage, and stocks were very low. Since Philon had been released, Marsia had been working him relentlessly.

  Carbo looked into Philon’s eyes, who trembled slightly.

  ‘Where might she be?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Philon piteously. ‘I knew about the temple, I knew she had fire-starting equipment there. But with the temple gone, Shafat dead, Glaukos arrested, I thought that was the end of it. I had put it all behind me.’ He looked up at Rufa.

  ‘Rufa, I am so sorry for my part in this.’

  Rufa’s expression hardened further. ‘You betrayed your master, you betrayed me, and now my daughter is missing and in mortal danger. I don’t know what punishment Carbo has in store for you. Maybe he hasn’t decided himself. But maybe you will be able to lessen it, if you help us now.’

  ‘You don’t know of any followers she had that she might be staying with?’

  Philon shook his head. ‘There were some who weren’t at the temple when you destroyed it. Some even quite rich. But all I have heard since is that they are all broken, believing that Elissa must have been a false prophetess if her gods could not protect them. I think Elissa is on her own, except for Glaukos, and you still have him in custody.’

  ‘You never heard of any other places of worship? Any other property she owned?’

  Philon shook his head hesitantly, then paused. ‘There was… somewhere.’

  Carbo looked at him sharply.

  ‘Somewhere? What? Where?’

  ‘I… I’m not certain. Just something that was said. Some of Elissa’s followers had been moving supplies to a place on the Caelian Hill. I thought it was maybe a store, because I thought the temple was the centre of Elissa’s plans. But, maybe…’

  ‘Maybe this place is where Elissa really meant to start her fire,’ said Carbo. ‘Maybe the temple
was the store.’

  Philon nodded agreement. ‘Yes, it’s possible.’

  ‘Where on the Caelian?’ asked Vespillo. ‘It’s a big region.’

  ‘That’s as much as I know. I never heard any more than that.’

  Carbo felt frustration rise in him. So close, and yet it would take weeks to search the whole of the Caelian. They had hours at the most.

  ‘Who else would know about this house?’ asked Vespillo.

  ‘The followers who talked to me about it are dead. Shafat would have known. And Glaukos.’

  Carbo sat back. They were back to Glaukos.

  ‘Maybe you should give me half an hour with Glaukos. I would get him talking,’ said Carbo.

  Vespillo shook his head. ‘Maybe so. Or maybe the fanatic would put up with anything you threw at him, and all we would have done would be to let him know we had some knowledge of Elissa’s rough whereabouts.’

  ‘What would Glaukos do if we let him go?’ asked Carbo.

  Vespillo pondered for a moment. ‘He doesn’t know that Elissa has been arrested, does he? So we could let him know she is at large. But if we released him without a good reason, he would be highly suspicious. He would probably go back to Elissa’s house and keep his head down.’

  ‘What if he escaped?’ asked Rufa suddenly.

  There was a pause while everyone considered this.

  ‘If he escaped, he would have no reason to be suspicious. He would just count his blessings,’ said Carbo.

  ‘Then we could follow him and he could lead us to Elissa,’ said Vespillo.

  ‘How do we know for sure he will go straight to her, though? Time is so short.’

  ‘He needs an incentive,’ said Vespillo.

  ‘He can have me,’ said Rufa.

  They all looked at her, in shocked silence.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Carbo.

  ‘Let him overhear where I am. He can take me to Elissa. She wanted us both, don’t forget, Fabilla and I. Glaukos may have some making-up to do to Elissa, for being caught. He may fear for his life, given how much damage has been done to her plans already. If he took me, Elissa may be more favourably inclined towards him. It would prove that he hadn’t been turned by his time in captivity as well.’

  Vespillo looked thoughtful. ‘It could work.’

  ‘No,’ said Carbo. ‘I’m not having Rufa in danger.’

  ‘It isn’t your decision to make, Carbo,’ said Rufa, steadily. ‘It is my life. If you truly meant it when you said I was free, then you will allow me to decide my own course in this.’

  Carbo tried to think of something to say. He couldn’t risk losing Rufa. Yet if he didn’t rescue Fabilla, he would lose her anyway, he was sure. How could they remain happy and whole with a grief like that in their hearts? It seemed like a good plan, besides. The best they had, anyway.

  Carbo took a breath and let out a deep sigh. ‘Very well. Let’s go and see Glaukos.’

  * * *

  Glaukos looked at them insolently. His shackles had been undone and he had been allowed to sit on a small stool. Carbo and Vespillo stood.

  ‘Do you have anything more to confess?’ asked Vespillo.

  ‘More?’ sneered Glaukos. ‘I have confessed nothing to you. Confession implies a wrongdoing. My actions have been for the glory of the Lord and Lady, and so cannot be wrong.’

  ‘Then do you have any more to tell us about the glorious actions you have performed on behalf of the Lord and Lady?’

  ‘All things will be revealed in time,’ said Glaukos.

  Carbo regarded him steadily. ‘Keep telling yourself that, Glaukos,’ he said. ‘Your wonderful plans will come to fruition, the Lord and Lady will descend and put Rome to fire and sword, and you will be elevated to power and glory. Just like all the other street prophets claim for their own favourite deities. I could hear the same thing five times before I had walked from one end of the forum to the other.’

  Glaukos looked smug. ‘False prophets do not concern me.’

  Vespillo scratched idly at a flea bite on his arm.

  ‘You know what, Glaukos,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you concern me either. Shafat is dead. The temple is burned to the ground, but only the temple. We stopped any fire spreading elsewhere. Elissa’s followers are dead, or have recanted their belief. Elissa herself has managed to avoid capture, but not for long. It really doesn’t matter to us what you think any more.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’ asked Glaukos.

  ‘We have to follow the rules. You are to be executed soon and I am supposed to make sure I have all the information I can get out of you before then. I should really have you tortured. But I can’t be bothered. Your pathetic little revolution is ended and I don’t need any more from you.’

  Vespillo turned to Carbo. ‘Do you want to go and grab a drink?’

  Carbo looked hesitant. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Rufa. She has gone to worship at the statue of Libertas in the forum to give thanks for her upcoming emancipation.’

  ‘Don’t you start letting that slave henpeck you, just because you are freeing her and taking her to bed. Be your own man, come and grab a drink.’

  Carbo smiled. ‘You’re on. Let’s leave this pathetic madman to ponder his fate.’

  They left the cell. The key jiggled in the lock. Glaukos heard the footsteps of the two men fading into the distance. The door swung open an inch.

  * * *

  Carbo stood at a distance from where Rufa knelt at the statue of Libertas. The goddess, the deity of liberty and personal freedom, looked benignly out over the bustling forum. She was clothed in a loose-fitting robe that revealed one breast and her head bore a pileum, a brimless felt hat that was worn by slaves on the day of their manumission.

  Carbo ached to stand beside Rufa, to protect her. Allowing her to do this felt so alien, so wrong. When he thought he couldn’t restrain himself any longer he started towards her. Vespillo, though, as if reading his mind, but probably reading his body language instead, put a restraining hand on him. Carbo shrugged him off angrily, but remained where he was, watchful, painfully alert.

  Suddenly, Glaukos was beside Rufa. They hadn’t seen him approach in the crowd, but they hadn’t been looking. They knew his destination and had waited for him there. Carbo tensed, but held his instincts to rush forward in check. Glaukos knelt and whispered something to her. Carbo saw Rufa stiffen. He didn’t know if she was acting. Probably what he had said had genuinely shocked her. Rufa stood and, without a glance in Carbo’s direction, she accompanied Glaukos, south-east in the direction of the Caelian Hill.

  * * *

  Elissa sat on a throne. It was a plain wooden chair with simple arms, but in her mind it was marble with gold inlay. She looked off into the distance. Instead of a cavernous room, packed with tinder, naphtha, wax and wood, she imagined herself to be in a great palace. The Lord and Lady, Ba’al Hammon and Tanit, stood behind her, and she was bathed in their light. Before her, prostrate, were a million Romans, cowed and terrified before the gods of ancient Carthage and this Dido reborn who had destroyed their city. They waited for their divine punishment, retribution for the evils committed in the name of this one city for so many centuries. Corinth, Alesia, Capua, great Carthage herself. The lemures of great men who had sought freedom from Rome hovered around, delighting in the evil city’s humiliation – Vercingetorix, Spartacus, Jugurtha, Pyrrhus, Mithridates, Hamilcar and Hannibal. Their mocking laughter as Rome burned was like sweet song to her ears.

  A whimper reached her and her focus was brought back to reality. Her attention was drawn to the bundle bound at her feet. Dolabella had been true to his word. She had been tempted to pay him half the money. After all, the girl’s mother was neither returned to her, nor dead. In the end, though, what did it matter? When the new kingdom was created, gold and silver would mean nothing. Rufa was to be part of the sacrifice, part of the fun, as she watched her daughter die. She wasn’t necessary, though, the gods had only specified the girl. She had
paid him his full due and he had departed with thanks and promises to fulfil the rest of his contract. Elissa had waved that away, the mother had only ever been important to pacify the daughter. He had left her with the young red-headed girl trussed like a chicken ready for cooking.

  She smiled at the image. Ready for cooking, indeed. On the far wall was the symbol of Tanit, the cross with the round head, and resting against the wall was an altar. In front of that was a statue, the twin of the one she had in her peristylium in shape, but enormous in size. Where the hole at the bottom of the outstretched arms leading to the fire had been only big enough for a piglet in the statue in her domus, this one could accommodate a child, if they were bound correctly. Like this one was. The heat coming from the flames was intense and she revelled in it, even though it made the skin of her face uncomfortable.

  Her eyes were drawn to the corpulent figure slumped in the corner. Scrofa had been invaluable to her, especially in securing her release. He had known that taking her into his custody and then letting her escape would be the end of his career in the Urban Prefect’s office. He would probably be severely punished for it. His usefulness to her was ended. He hadn’t seemed to care. He had started to spout fantasies about how he would be the Lord to her Lady, how they would rule Rome together. He had even tried to kiss her. She had shied back, feeling an uncharacteristic panic, a remembrance of a time as a young girl when a fat man had taken her against her will.

  She had offered him wine, toasting the Lady Tanit and the Lord Ba’al Hammon. The poison had taken hold quickly. She had smiled as he died, gasping and clutching his throat.

  Rats scurried around. There were still small amounts of corn from when the building had been a horrea, a warehouse, in this case for the storage of grain. It had been donated to Elissa by a smitten follower, though he had puzzled at what she wanted it for. He was dead now, in the fire at the temple, and would never know.