The Horse Changer

by Craig Smith

  The pool in the atrium was empty, but its size and the fragments of the mosaic that remained here and there hinted at the grandeur the place had once enjoyed. Further on, the house seemed already to have been overtaken by the forest. The roof had collapsed in every room for as far as I could see. The porticoed garden at the back of the house seemed already to be a part of the forest.

  For all that, with the light breaking through the treetops and vines reclaiming the rooms, the effect was quite beautiful, though hardly a domicile anyone might willingly choose. No, this was a bandit’s hideaway.

  ‘Will you join us for a meal, Dellius?’ Nero asked.

  His remark that they were famished had seemed the usual hyperbole from one who has not eaten for a few hours, but I suddenly knew how utterly desperate their situation was: chased constantly by bounty hunters, they were probably half-starved most of the time. I was not even sure if the food their servant had brought with him was purchased or stolen.

  I was hungry and all the more so once I tasted a piece of bread. I hesitated taking more of their food than that, but once I realised that the freedman had begun piling dried wood on the family’s campfire in preparation of baking fresh bread, I helped myself to another piece. As I watched them eat, I could not help recalling our feasts in Campania. There we had meat of six or seven varieties and always fresh fish, though it had cost a fortune to stock the ponds where they were kept. I must say, for all the arrogance of the old boy in former times, I was not happy to see Nero ruined. Still, the sight of him so impoverished did give me some hope of persuading Livia to leave him and marry me.

  Before we got down to Antony’s business Nero asked about my life; he had some general idea of what had occurred but seemed genuinely anxious for details. This seemed quite strange to me; it had not previously been in his nature to care about others. I suspect now he was only anxious to flatter a man whose help he needed.

  Soon enough I was telling them about the battle at Philippi. Livia’s father had been one of the legionary commanders there and had in fact been executed in the aftermath. That they might know what sort of villain chased them I described the games of chance Caesar had played with some of the young tribunes. When I saw Livia’s expression grow pale I hastened to add that the legates had been given a chance to speak before their executions. ‘None were mocked or teased; the games of chance were only for the lower ranking officers.’

  Livia was not sure I was telling the truth; to be honest, I had no idea if Caesar had mistreated the legates. They were at the front of the line, first to die; I had been standing a few furlongs behind them waiting my turn.

  After my description of events at Philippi, Nero described the uprising in northern Italy. According to him, he was the one who had encouraged Antony’s wife and brother to resist Caesar’s tyranny. He assured me that while Antony knew nothing about their plans, all three of them had intended for Antony to be the sole beneficiary of their actions.

  ‘When it was clear the city was about to fall, Livia and Tiberius and I made our way into the forest.’ I noticed the freedman at the fire turn to look at his master, but he did not speak. It must have wounded him terribly to get no mention when Nero told the tale.

  ‘You were at least safe in Sicily,’ I told Nero when he had finished his story. ‘Why come here and risk everything? Whatever news you had, you might have sent to Antony by courier.’

  ‘Caesar is preparing to betray Antony, Dellius.’

  ‘How?’ I asked. Even though I did not suspect Nero of deep intrigues, I was not ready to believe Caesar was so foolish as to risk war with Antony.

  ‘Caesar has been carrying on secret negotiations with Sextus Pompey. He intends to announce their alliance the moment Antony sails with his army to Syria.’

  ‘You know this as a fact?’

  ‘I was to be turned over to Caesar as part of a goodwill offering from Pompey. When Livia found out about it we escaped before Pompey could lay hands on me.’

  ‘And what of Lepidus?’ I asked. Lepidus, the third member of the Triumvirate, commanded western Africa with a great many legions under his authority. Should Lepidus throw in with Caesar, Antony would have no chance.

  ‘For the moment, Lepidus has no involvement in Caesar’s plans. From what I can see, he is not taken seriously by either Pompey or Caesar. Once Antony engages Labienus in Syria, they mean to come against him by sea with Pompey’s navy and by land with Caesar’s legions.’

  ‘From what I have learned, they hope to persuade Labienus to join their new alliance,’ Livia added.

  I wanted to ask why Caesar would turn on Antony, but I knew the answer. This was all because of Pompey’s naval blockade of Rome. With Antony away in Syria, Caesar feared more riots in Rome. Even if the population did not succeed in overthrowing him, Caesar must have known that a victory in Syria would make Antony preeminent. Should Antony suffer setbacks or even defeat, Caesar would be no better off. Antony’s defeat would mean the end of the Triumvirate and Caesar’s legions would lose faith in their man. On the other hand, if Caesar joined with Labienus and Pompey well before Antony attacked the Parthians in Syria, he would become preeminent with Pompey and Labienus assuming the role of junior partners in a new Triumvirate. Then all that remained would be to deal with Lepidus.

  ‘Have you any proof of Caesar’s intentions? Something I can take to Antony?’ I asked.

  ‘Only my husband’s presence here, Dellius,’ Livia answered. ‘He would not have put himself in mortal danger if it were unnecessary.’

  ‘I believe you, but I am not sure Antony will.’

  ‘Antony is no fool!’ Nero protested.

  ‘His marriage to Caesar’s sister seems to have changed him. All I can do is inform him of what you have told me; much as he might want to believe it, I am not sure he will let himself.’

  ‘And what of us?’ Livia asked.

  I met Nero’s gaze. ‘I can take Livia and your son to Sparta. I assure you they will be safe. Anything else risks making me a criminal.’

  ‘By standing in this room you are already a criminal,’ Livia told me.

  ‘What would you have me do about that? Kill your husband?’

  ‘Arrest him! Take us both to Sparta and keep us under your authority until Antony decides what he will do.’

  ‘Proscribed men are not arrested, Lady. They are killed on sight, along with anyone willingly in their company, wives included.’

  ‘Take Livia and Tiberius,’ Nero answered. ‘I’ll wait here until you return with Antony’s decision.’

  ‘No,’ Livia protested. ‘We must stay together.’

  ‘Dominus!’ the freedman called, his voice soft, urgent. ‘There are riders outside.’

  Nero and I hurried to the gate and looked out through one of the broken panels. A dozen horsemen had stopped at the edge of the meadow. It was not difficult to imagine what had happened, and had I known that Nero was with Livia I would have watched for trouble. Someone in the city had recognised Nero’s freedman. By following the freedman they hoped to find Nero.

  We had not watched them long before they started toward the house, spreading out as they came. The leader ordered four of his men to proceed toward the southern extremes of the property. Once these men rode into the forest, I could no longer see them, but I knew they meant to come at us from a flanking position.

  ‘Have you weapons?’ I asked Nero. At Nero’s gesture, the freedman crossed the room and showed me two javelins tucked behind some rubble; I would have preferred lances for close fighting, but javelins would do. Nero walked across the atrium and picked up a gladius hidden in the rubble. He then wrapped his left arm in his cloak. The cloak would serve as his shield. I pointed at Nero. ‘You will need to hide; make them come for you, but keep your sword ready.’ Now pointing to Livia, ‘Hold the child; do nothing else.’ Now to the freedman, ‘Set fire to the forest at the back and along the southern perimeter of the house. We need to keep those fellows who went into the forest from coming in b
ehind us. And keep those spears out of sight until they find your master; then come behind them as they are fighting. Strike low in the back, as hard and deep as you can manage.’

  I waited until the freedman had taken one of the brands from his cooking fire and began lighting the dry brush that edged into the house. Then I walked out the front gate. The riders studied me quietly as I approached them. ‘Did you gentlemen miss the road?’ I asked.

  ‘Who is in the house?’ called the man at the centre of the line.

  He was a thickly built man in his forties, doubtlessly athletic in his youth but no longer. A Roman by his accent, probably ex-legionary by his dress and manner.

  ‘Who wants to know?’ I demanded.

  ‘The man with the sword, sweetheart.’ As he answered me he pulled his weapon and let me contemplate it.

  I was wearing a long-sleeved belted scarlet tunic, which I had purchased because it reminded me of the one I had taken from the closet of Gaius Trebonius. I wore as well the two gladii Herod and Phasael had given me under my right arm. With my costume and the precious stones decorating the twin scabbards, I suppose I did look like the perfect dandy; even so I did not care to be called sweetheart by any man. ‘If you must know,’ I answered, ‘I am the one occupying this residence, at least for the afternoon. My lover and her child are within. And her servant.’

  ‘What are their names?’

  ‘She is another man’s wife, so I will not tell you her name. As for the servant, I frankly never bothered to ask it.’

  ‘And what is your name?’

  ‘Quintus Dellius, Prefect of the Guard for the Triumvir Mark Antony.’

  This startled the man, but he was not sure if I was lying or not. ‘Prefect of the Guard is it? Well, Prefect, we have reason to believe a proscribed man is in that house with you.’

  ‘What man?’

  ‘Claudius Nero.’

  ‘You’re quite mistaken, I can assure you.’

  ‘I may be, but I won’t know until I search the place, will I?’

  ‘I don’t care to have the child frightened. I’ll allow three of your men inside. No more.’

  ‘I’ll send as many in as I like.’

  ‘If you send three men I’ll stand here quietly. Send more than that,’ I said, drawing both swords, ‘and I’ll have one of these in your guts before they cross the threshold.’

  The ex-legionary did not care for this, but neither did he want to kill Antony’s man without proof Nero was inside. He nodded to his second, who dismounted and took two others with him. I was now standing before five men on horseback, three of them occupied holding a companion’s horse.

  I heard the gate creak open, then Livia’s voice as she spoke to the men. ‘What is this about? What is going on?’ I turned briefly and saw the men push her roughly out of the way. She followed them, sounding like a common pleb who hadn’t anything at hand but a sharp tongue and a shrewish disposition. Surprisingly, that sort of thing works with some men. Not these fellows. One of them laughed at her, calling her a whore. When she attacked him with her fists, he pushed her to the ground.

  Only as she rose to follow did it occur to me that Livia had abandoned her son, expressly against my orders. Well, she had never obeyed Nero; why should I imagine she would treat my commands any differently?

  ‘How did you happen to come here?’ I asked the captain of the bounty hunters. I heard rubble being tossed about inside.

  ‘That’s our affair, I’d say.’

  ‘I only ask because I happen to know Claudius Nero is in Sicily.’

  ‘Did you start a fire at the back of the house?’

  ‘It was a bit chilly inside.’

  ‘He’s inside,’ the captain told his companions.

  I stepped toward the horses and swept the blade in my left hand across the noses of three of the animals. Two of these horses had riders, but all three animals jumped back in surprise, colliding with the others and causing a general consternation. In the meantime, I turned to the man closest to me, who was already drawing his sword. Before the blade cleared its scabbard I ran him through. The fellow stared at me in disbelief; then, as I twisted my gladius and pulled it from him, his expression lost all animation.

  I took the reins of his horse as it skittered away from its falling rider. With all four riders still struggling to calm their mounts, I leapt upon the horse of the wounded man and turned toward the captain of the squad.

  He attempted to evade a collision as I bolted toward him, but that only let me collide into the shoulder of his mount. I blocked a desperate stroke as the animals hit one another, then swung at his head with both of my swords. His animal hurt and his life in jeopardy, the captain threw himself to the ground. I spun my horse now, but the animal was not well trained and turned like a ship on its centre axis.

  The man coming at my back reached out with a long blade. Ducking under the thrust of his weapon, I swept my left arm behind me. The blade of my weapon cut into the fellow’s arm, though I had not the force to sever it. It was enough for him to drop his weapon. I turned at once toward the other two riders. Only then did I realise I had been cut. It was not a deep wound, but I was hurt.

  The two men remaining on horses had pulled back to cover their captain as he caught and tried to mount one of the loose horses. Rather than wait for them to surround me, I galloped as fast as possible toward Hannibal. Scissoring one leg over the neck of the nag I rode, I dismounted on the run. I took up Hannibal’s reins and jumped upon him. He spun lightly, his weight perfectly settled over his haunches. I pressed his flanks and he bolted toward a broken wall close to the front gate. Hannibal hurdled the wall easily, bringing us directly into the sun-dappled atrium. But it was hardly the safe haven it had seemed only moments before.

  Nero’s freedman was down. His body lay over one of the javelins. The corpse of one of the bounty hunters lay next to him, a dagger buried to the hilt in his back. The other two men had cornered Nero. He blocked every thrust with either the cloak wrapped around his arm or the blade of his sword, but with two against one he was failing. Livia came toward their backs with the second javelin.

  I saw her moving and shouted for her to stop. All I did was awaken the men to their danger. One of the men turned from Nero and went for her with his sword.

  I pushed Hannibal into a gallop. We hurdled the low wall of the empty pool; a stride more and we came out of the pool again, brushing past Livia.

  Livia’s assailant turned his attention to me and swung his sword at Hannibal. I blocked the attempt and guided Hannibal into him, knocking him down. As soon as the man hit the floor, Livia came forward, thrusting the javelin into his belly. The other man, now alone against us, broke from Nero and jumped through the wall and into the smoky forest. I might have taken him; he was only two strides beyond the house. But Hannibal, fearing the smoke, refused the jump.

  I turned and rode to the centre of the atrium. Looking back through the rooms I could see that the forest along the back and both sides of the house had started burning.

  XXII

  FIRE

  Sparta: March, 39 BC

  I heard the crackle of dry wood burning fast and saw smoke rolling into the atrium. ‘Where is the boy?’ I cried.

  ‘Hiding.’

  ‘Get him. We need to move fast!’

  I watched Livia pull the dagger from the back of one of the bounty hunters. Only then did I see the blood on her. ‘You’re hurt!’ I said.

  She looked down at her bloodstained hands and clothing. ‘His,’ she said simply, her eyes cutting toward the corpse from which she had pulled the dagger. My gladii in my hands, I rode back through the house, shifting Hannibal around the old piles of charred roof beams cluttering the way. Fearing the smoke and rising heat, Hannibal fought me with nervous protests, whinnying, head-tossing, front legs rearing up slightly. For the sake of control I moved him sideways, pressing his flanks with a single leg and holding his head with the reins. He snorted angrily and trotted in place for a ti
me.

  I kept watch for the men who had slipped behind the house, but the fire had spread too quickly for them to get inside. The flames were already licking into the house. Vines and treetops inside the garden had begun to burn. The air was hot, breathing difficult.

  When I came back to the atrium I discovered the boy standing beside his father. I rode to the front of the building and saw eight men mounted on horseback. A ninth stood on the ground wrapping a wounded arm. The last of their number lay in the grass a short distance away. Slipping off Hannibal, I told Nero, ‘I suggest Livia and the boy mount my horse and wait inside until you and I can engage them. When they have surrounded us, Livia and the boy can break from the house and ride to the city.’

  ‘And what of you two?’ Livia asked.

  ‘We’ll follow into the town after we’ve finished with them.’

  ‘You haven’t a chance against so many men,’ Livia offered. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to go down to the pavilion?’

  ‘The pavilion? What are you talking about?’

  ‘There’s a pavilion under the hill.’ She pointed toward the back of the property, ‘It ought to be well below the fire. From there we should be able to get away from them.’

  ‘There’s no way to get there!’ I told her.

  ‘Of course there is. We have a tunnel inside the house that leads to it. I shouldn’t think there will be any more fire once we are inside the tunnel.’

  Nero put his gladius in its scabbard and picked up both javelins. Livia took the child, and I led Hannibal. When we came to the porticoed garden, which was now thick with smoke, Hannibal began to fight me in earnest, rearing up in terror.

  ‘Here!’ Livia called and pointed at a burning pile of rubble blocking the way into a wide stairwell. Beyond was darkness, but the slope of the ceiling promised a rapid descent and refuge from the smoke and fire.