The Conqueror

by Bryan Litfin

  “I think we’ve lost our pursuers,” the braided warrior said at last, letting the screen of leaves slip back into place as he turned to face his companions. “I have to admit, Rex, I didn’t think you could snatch the girl out of the amphitheater. Nice work! Occasionally you surprise me. Someday you might make a good soldier after all.”

  Rex shook his head and suppressed a smile—unwilling, apparently, to tease his friend in return. Flavia watched as the two men locked eyes. Neither said anything to the other, yet something profound was being communicated between the two warriors. Rex put a fist to his chest, and Geta gave him a little nod in return. Flavia could only look in from the outside. This was a bond she couldn’t fully understand.

  “So what now?” Flavia asked when the moment had passed. “I can’t get help from my home or my church. Both are being watched. I seem to be running out of options.”

  Geta frowned and nodded his understanding. “My lady, if I may say so, I think you need to leave the city for a while.”

  Flavia glanced over at Rex for confirmation. His nod signaled that he agreed.

  “Where should I go, then? Any ideas?”

  “That’s probably a question only you can answer,” Rex replied. “Do you have any properties in the countryside?”

  “No, my father’s lands are across the sea in Sardinia. He has massive holdings there. But he never wanted to invest in local real estate.”

  “That’s strange,” Geta mused. “Most senators keep at least one villa nearby to get out of the city once in a while.”

  Flavia’s mouth fell open. “Tibur!”

  “Who’s that?” Rex asked.

  “It’s not a who, it’s a where! About twenty miles east of the city, up in the mountains. My uncle has a villa there!”

  “Would he hide you?”

  “Well, he and my father had a falling out, so I haven’t seen him in a few years. But he’s a Christian. I think that’s why he always doted on me when I was little. So, yes, I’m pretty sure he’d help me now.”

  “We’re already near the eastern gates,” Geta said, “but there’s bound to be watchers at every one. We can’t just stroll into the suburbs like we’re going to a picnic.” He faced Flavia and made a solemn vow. “Do not worry, my lady. Whatever it takes, we’re going to get you out of here.”

  “Thank you, Geta,” Flavia replied, inclining her head to him. “You’ve been so kind to me.” She turned to Rex and gave him a nod as well. “Both of you have.”

  “Somebody is paying for all this surveillance,” Rex observed. “You must have made some very powerful enemies.”

  Flavia sighed deeply. “Yes. The Praetorian prefect hates me. Actually, he hates my father because he’s a political rival. Convicting me of treason and throwing me to the beasts was his strategy to shame my family. Then Emperor Maxentius would cast my father aside and Pompeianus would swoop in like a hawk.”

  “Ruricius Pompeianus is your enemy?” Geta shot Rex a quick glance. “We were actually hoping—”

  “—to steer clear of him,” Rex continued without missing a beat. “Brutal man. But a very fine tactician. Ruthless in war.”

  “And in politics,” Flavia replied glumly.

  Geta abruptly crossed to his peephole in the shrubbery. “Shh!” he hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

  The three companions fell silent as the crunch of footsteps on gravel drew closer to the grotto. From the sound of the walker’s shuffling gait and his absentminded mumbling, he seemed to be an old man. The boughs around the nymphaeum parted and a bald-headed laborer stepped into the grotto with a bucket and a scrub brush.

  Nobody said anything for a long moment. At last the man dropped his bucket with a bang. “You’re those—”

  “Silence, my friend,” Rex said. “We’re just some visitors who happened to find this cool and shady place. You’ve never seen us before.”

  “But—”

  “Silence, I said.”

  “So . . . can I leave?”

  “Walk away and disappear,” Geta ordered firmly. “Talk to no one until you’re long gone.”

  Rex shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. We should tie him up.”

  “He’s just an old gardener. What harm can he do?” Geta grabbed the man by the elbow and escorted him to the grotto’s entrance. “Be off with you. Not a word to anyone.”

  The bald gardener shuffled back the way he had come. Tensely, the three fugitives watched him go. Reaching the far end of the park, the man paused, then began to yell and wave toward someone across the street.

  Rex scrunched his nose and spat out a curse. “I knew it!” he said through gritted teeth.

  “It won’t matter. I can handle this.” Geta hurried over to Flavia and looked at her intently. “Lady Junia, I know I’ve only just met you, but even in that short time I’ve found you to be noble and worthy of honor. I’m willing to do anything to help you gain your freedom. Therefore”—he switched his gaze to Rex—“I will hold the gate in the hedge and buy you time. You take the lady out of the city and get her safely to Tibur.”

  Rex nodded. “I will.”

  Reaching out to his friend, Geta clasped hands with him. “Brothers, always!” he declared.

  “To the death!” Rex replied.

  The secret path led from the grotto to the gate in the hedge. A commotion had started up in the area where the gardener had cried for help, and angry shouts were now coming from that direction. Geta drew his sword. “No one will get through,” he promised.

  Rex and Flavia had just passed through the opening and were about to depart when Geta reached out and caught Flavia’s sleeve. Taking her hand in his, he pressed it to his lips.

  “Christ be with you,” he said.

  “And with thy spirit,” she answered instinctively, then took her place at Rex’s side and moved into the city streets again.

  The Tiburtina Gate was crawling with workers when Rex and Flavia arrived. A full crew of imperial masons swarmed the massive structure like ants on a dropped morsel, scaling every surface, sealing every crack. Although city gates always had a way of concentrating people’s attention in one place, the current strengthening of the walls ordered by Emperor Maxentius had made the portals an even greater point of focus.

  “That is a huge project they’re undertaking,” Rex remarked, more to himself than to Flavia. “Maxentius is clearly anticipating a siege.”

  “Any of those men could be a paid watcher. I’m nervous, Rex! I don’t want to approach any closer. Can we get out of here?”

  The shady portico where Rex had stationed himself wasn’t visible to anyone at the gate. Still, Flavia’s instinct was right. To exit that gate into the countryside would be to invite a squadron of soldiers to follow. Even random pedestrians presented a threat if they happened to recognize Flavia as the girl snatched from the amphitheater a few hours earlier. Though Rex’s face had been covered by a helmet, fifty thousand people had seen hers, and word of such dramatic events always spread quickly. Many people across the city were probably gossiping about it even now. Though Rex was tempted to make a dash for it, the stakes were just too high. It would take only one person creating a disturbance for Flavia to be back in the hands of the Praetorian Guard.

  “I agree, it’s too risky,” he said, turning away from the gate and withdrawing into the shadows. “I don’t even like walking the alleys with you wearing that same pink dress you had on in the arena.”

  She shrugged. “What else can I do? I’d buy a new one if I had any money.”

  Rex reached through a slit in his tunic and pulled out a leather pouch. “First I abandon my job and make my boss furious. Then I almost die several times while snatching you from danger. After that, I buy you a sausage. And now I’m buying you clothes?”

  “Oh, Rex! No, I wasn’t saying . . . I mean, it was just an offhand comment—”

  “I’m just teasing you.” Chuckling and shaking his head, Rex handed Flavia a silver argenteus. “Please, take the
money.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  Rex pressed the coin into Flavia’s palm. “Truly, I want you to. It’s yours.”

  “It’s just a loan, I promise! I’ll pay you back as soon as I can!”

  “Lady Junia, that’s not necessary. Go find a plain tunic to disguise yourself while I consider our options.”

  She nodded gratefully and disappeared. Seating himself on the doorstep of an abandoned shop, Rex stroked his beard and tried to think of a way to get out of the city. Only two options seemed possible: hide in a cart passing through a gate or go over the wall under cover of darkness. The second idea seemed less viable. Rex knew that with a rope and hook, he could get himself over the fortifications, but what about Flavia? She had proven herself sufficiently athletic to dash through the streets, but could she really surmount the Aurelian Walls? Emperor Aurelian hadn’t put up those walls for decoration forty years ago. That was a time of great chaos. The walls were there to prevent people from crossing them—and they worked just as well in either direction.

  The sound of shouting snapped Rex’s attention back to his surroundings. He rose quickly and went around the corner to investigate. As he had feared, Flavia was the cause of the scuffle—but not because she had been recognized from the amphitheater. Instead, a stocky, middle-aged blacksmith had interpreted her garish makeup to mean she was a prostitute.

  “I said no!” Flavia cried, trying to squirm away from her would-be lover’s grasp. But the man kept a firm hold on her wrist. Rex could see right away that he was one of those egotistical brawlers who thought more of his fighting skills than his actual prowess warranted. Although it wouldn’t be hard to put the man on the ground, Rex knew that sometimes a lighter touch was needed to prevent an escalation.

  The blacksmith snickered at Flavia’s attempt to break free. “You can play games all you want, honey, but the end’s going to be the same,” he said.

  Rex approached the pair, keeping his demeanor unthreatening. “Hail, friend! Where’d you find this woman? I like the look of her too.”

  The blacksmith frowned and jutted his chin at Rex, sizing him up, though without releasing his grip on Flavia. “She’s mine, you dirty German. Beat it.”

  “How much is she asking?”

  “We’re still negotiating. She’s about to learn I drive a hard bargain.”

  Rex took a step closer. It was all he could do not to deliver a forearm to the man’s voice box and leave him choking in the gutter. Instead, he smiled agreeably and gave a little shake of his head. “Ha! From the look of you, I wouldn’t want to be her! But listen, friend—I’ve been traveling for weeks and just sold my horse. I got money to spend, and I need a woman bad. What if I buy this one off you, and buy you another as well? There’s plenty more where she came from. The brothel is right up the street. You’d come out ahead, and we’d both be happy.”

  By now a crowd had gathered around the trio, eager to be entertained by any sidewalk drama, especially one that might end in a fight. “Don’t do it, man!” someone called. “There ain’t other harlots what look as good as her!”

  “He’s right,” Rex said to the blacksmith. “So I’ll tell you what. You let me go first with her. Then when it’s your turn, I’ll pay for both of us. And I’ll even buy you a jug of wine.”

  “Don’t pass that up, Cassius!” a voice shouted. “What have you got to lose?”

  A slow grin broke out across the blacksmith’s face. He put his fist to his chest. “Deal,” he said. The crowd broke into a cheer.

  Rex offered the same gesture, then made a big show of handing Flavia a pair of coins for her “services.” As he began to lead her away on his arm, he bent down until he could speak in her ear. “We enter the brothel and go straight out the back. Stay beside me.”

  “Hey!” somebody shouted. “That’s the pink girl who faced the cow in the amphitheater!”

  Rex’s stomach clenched. Gods! Not now! Keep quiet, whoever you are! Though he kept walking beside Flavia, he casually reached through a slit in his tunic and grasped the hilt of his hidden knife.

  “Don’t you remember?” the speaker continued. He stepped out of the crowd now, a remarkably handsome boy with a fashionable tunic and long hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I was there in the stands. A gladiator saved her from a cow and a lion! Then she went down a hole. What’s she doing here?”

  “It’s not the same girl, you little sissy!” someone else said.

  “I think it is,” chimed in a third. “She’s wearing the same color. And look! There’s a bit of ribbon in her hair.”

  “Rex!” Flavia hissed as she clung to his elbow. “We’ve got to get out of here—quick!”

  “I know! I’ll think of something. Just don’t run.”

  “Somebody find a Praetorian,” the long-haired boy demanded. “They’ll know for sure.”

  “Do we run yet?” Flavia whispered, picking up her gait.

  “Steady. Keep walking. Just go into the brothel, like we said.”

  “Psst!”

  Rex shot his glance to the left. A street urchin beckoned from the supporting arches of an aqueduct. “I can make you disappear, mister!”

  Flavia’s grip on Rex’s elbow tightened, and she let out a little moan. “There are two soldiers back there,” she said urgently. “They’re starting to come this way.”

  “Your choice,” the urchin said. “Face the Praetorians or let me help you disappear.”

  Rex veered left and darted under the aqueduct, tugging Flavia with him into an obscure alley. The boy smiled and spun toward a dilapidated apartment building with a pile of brushwood stacked against it. Ducking behind the sticks and branches, he opened a small door and crawled inside. “Welcome to my home,” he said, then vanished into the gloom.

  Out in the main street, the sound of hobnailed boots drew nearer. Rex bent his head and ducked through the little portal. Instantly he stepped to one side and scanned the room, ready for any attack that might come, but only the boy was there. Rex reached back through the low door, grabbed Flavia’s hand, and helped her inside. The boy quietly latched the door behind them. After a few moments, the hobnailed boots moved on, and everything became still.

  Though debris was strewn everywhere and the windows were boarded, Rex could see he was in the back room of what had once been a shop for rent. He stood up to his full height and looked at the scrawny, shaggy-haired boy wearing a loincloth and cheap sandals. “Why are you helping us?” he asked.

  The urchin pointed to the slight bulge on Rex’s hip. “Why else, Mister Moneypouch? I ain’t no Christian, feedin’ the sick for free. We can do a deal if you want.”

  Amused, Rex smiled at the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Businessman. That’s all you need to know, Moneypouch.”

  Rex bowed. “Nice to meet you, Businessman. I’ll go by Moneypouch, if that’s what you want. This here is Curvy Hips. What line of work are you in?”

  “My boss calls it transmural freight. Taxes and customs are really low in that business.” A sly smirk came to the boy’s face. “Like zero.”

  “You’re a smuggler,” Flavia said. “You move stuff past the walls.”

  “Aye. Usually into the city. But sometimes we’re willing to go against the flow.” The remark brought a little giggle from the boy.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’ll learn soon enough, lady. We go against the flow whenever somebody has an export.”

  “What makes you think we have a product to export?” Rex asked.

  “Who else snoops around a gate for a long time, staring at it from every angle but never going through?”

  Rex cursed under his breath. I’m supposed to be an expert speculator, fully trained in stealthy surveillance—and this child spotted me!

  “Good eyes,” he told the boy.

  “I’m the Businessman. I know my business,” came the simple reply.

  “Alright. So let’s say we had two products for export. One a
bout my size, one hers. Could you get them both out?”

  “Of course. But you’d have to wait until dusk. We don’t want anybody spotting anything on the receiving end.”

  “It’s late already,” Rex said. “We can wait. How much for the job?”

  The Businessman eyed his client. “Five hundred denarii,” he said flatly. “This is extremely risky for us.”

  “Five hundred!” Flavia exclaimed. “That’s outrageous!”

  Rex flashed Flavia a playful grin. “Hey now, Curvy Hips! Hold your tongue and let us men do our deal.”

  Flavia rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. She folded her arms across her chest and remained silent.

  Having fun now, Rex took a step closer to her. “From what I can tell, there’s a rich man who cares a lot about this export. Am I right? Let’s call him the Big Papa. I imagine he’d be willing to pay just about any price to get his product back safe and sound.”

  After a long pause, an unwilling smile began to turn up the corners of Flavia’s lips. At last her resistance broke. “Yes,” she admitted, “the Big Papa would pay whatever it takes.”

  Rex turned to the urchin. “I’ll give you a new solidus for this double export. But I also want a good horse at the other end.”

  Now it was the Businessman’s turn to be surprised. “A solidus! That’s pure gold. Folks like me don’t ever see the yellow stuff. For that coin, I’d include Pegasus himself!” He thrust out his hand. “You have yourself a contract, Moneypouch.”

  The boy left the abandoned shop, returning an hour later with his boss. Rex eyed him warily, but the newcomer was a small, wiry man and seemed harmless. He led the party up a flight of rickety stairs to the third floor. Apparently, the whole apartment building had been condemned, for it was in serious disrepair and looked as if it hadn’t been inhabited for many years.

  “So what’s the plan?” Rex asked.

  The boss pointed to the rear wall of an apartment. It had once been decorated with a series of painted panels, but now the remaining flecks of the pictures were indecipherable. “Put your ear here,” he said.