The Emperor's Knives: Empire VII (Empire 7)

by Riches, Anthony

  ‘I see. That explains the rather explicit imagery on this …’

  He held up the shining piece of silver, and Excingus shook his head.

  ‘Don’t let that rather simple picture fool you. The reality of what the senator and his friends get up to is a good deal worse.’

  ‘Worse?’

  Excingus shook his head, his stare withering.

  ‘Either you’ve been away from Rome for too long or you’ve been lucky enough in the past to avoid the sort of people that Pilinius associates with. If you’re going to do this thing then you’d better be prepared to witness some sights that you might have preferred never to have seen.’

  Marcus shook his head, his teeth bared.

  ‘I’ve walked battlefields after the fighting’s done with. I’ve disembowelled, decapitated, crippled and maimed. I’ve left barbarian warriors to die in agony, crying for their mothers. The men who killed my father not only destroyed my family’s honour, they condemned me to a life of marching from the scene of one massacre to the next, listening to my soldiers weeping and thrashing about in their sleep at the horrors they have seen and done to other men, and those inflicted on their comrades. Trust me, nothing you could show me in this city comes anywhere close to the spectacular displays of massed slaughter in which I’ve played my part.’

  The informant shrugged equivocally.

  ‘We’ll see. And now gentlemen, perhaps I ought to talk you through the domus’s layout?’

  The first gang members arrived an hour or so before dusk, strolling down the street with bemused stares at the queue outside the barber’s shop. They stood for a moment taking in the scene, then walked in past the queuing customers, none of whom, Morban noted, cared to protest about them jumping the line of waiting men.

  ‘There’s a queue I’m afraid, gentlemen, you’ll have to wait your turn with the men outside.’

  The taller of the two bent to address Morban with a condescending smile, the happy expression somewhat marred by his empty left eye socket. Putting his heavily scarred knuckles on the desk behind the standard bearer’s desk, he sneered into his face.

  ‘If we wanted a haircut, Fatty, then we wouldn’t be queuing for it, and there ain’t one of your customers would have the balls to stand in our way. But, as it happens, we ain’t come for a haircut, we’re here to give you one.’ He looked around at his comrade with a smirk of pride at the joke. ‘Ten per cent of your day’s take, in return for our constant vigilance against any threat to your business. You’d be amazed what sorts of nastiness can happen when a shopkeeper chooses not to purchase our services.’

  Morban nodded quickly.

  ‘Sounds fair to me.’ He reached into the desk’s drawer, dropping a generous handful of coins into the gangster’s outstretched hand. ‘We’ve done alright today, so here’s your share. Might I know who we’re doing business with, just in case anyone else comes round trying to extort the money from us that we’ll need to make payment to you?’

  The big man grinned.

  ‘We’re the Hilltop Boys, old man, and there’s no bastard going to dare put their feet on our turf. My turf! One Eyed Maximus rules this part of the Aventine, and everyone round here knows it!’ He leaned closer, bending down to whisper in Morban’s ear. ‘I like to cut things, Fatty. More particularly I like to cut people. And when anyone … anyone … denies me something I want, well, I cut them, don’t I? I give them a simple choice, see, I tell ’em that I can either blind ’em, or cut out their tongues, or just make the unkindest cut of them all.’

  He grinned at Morban, challenging the other man to ask the question.

  ‘You don’t mean …?’

  ‘Oh yes. If they want to keep on seeing and talking then I just take the end off their cock. Just an inch or so, unless they really upset me, in which case I leave ’em just enough to piss with. Something to remember me by, and to make sure they never deny me anything ever again. So, want to stay on the right side of me, do you, Fatty?’

  The standard bearer nodded slowly.

  ‘Seems I do.’

  ‘Once again it appears that an opportunity for my revenge has passed me by, Informant.’

  Excingus looked impassively across the gardens, ignoring the senator’s bodyguards.

  ‘I take it, Senator, that you’re referring to the news of the death of a certain well-known gang leader?’

  Albinus slapped the arm of his seat, drawing glances from the nearest of the people walking through the gardens. Excingus shifted uneasily, lowering his head in apparent close examination of the tablet in his hand.

  ‘Of course I’m referring to the murder of yet another of the Knives! Brutus was found dead in the river this morning, his death having apparently been caused by a wooden pole rammed right through his body! Are you telling me that wasn’t Aquila’s work!?’

  The informant shook his head.

  ‘I can’t tell you anything of the kind, although I’ll point out to you that Brutus is reputed to have been at war with another gang leader, some nasty piece of work who seems to be more than capable of such an act. I should also tell you that Brutus had a reputation, I’ve since discovered, for going into hiding whenever that sort of inevitable turf war started, and not coming out until the matter was resolved. Since none of my contacts had the faintest idea where he might have taken refuge, it does cross my mind that he might simply have been discovered by his rival? Sometimes the most obvious answer is the most obvious for a reason …’

  He sat in silence and waited for Albinus to think it through.

  ‘Coincidence? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’

  The informant wrinkled his brow.

  ‘I’m not trying to tell you anything, Senator, I am simply explaining that I knew as little as you did about Brutus’s whereabouts as everyone else in the city, with the apparent exception of the man who leads the Dog Eaters’ assorted thugs and murderers. I’d imagine that Scaurus and Aquila are equally frustrated!’

  Albinus opened his mouth to speak again, his expression that of an unhappy man.

  ‘But …’ The informant neatly forestalled his employer’s next complaint. ‘Given that you pay me for information, I do have news of an event which, I suspect, will bring your former colleagues in the military to the scene like flies on shit, and provide you with the perfect opportunity. You’ll be aware, no doubt, of Senator Tiberius Asinius Pilinius?’

  Marcus and the tribune made their way into the city in the early evening with a discreet escort of Cotta’s men, their formal clothing immaculate and their skins ruddy with health after a long session in the barrack’s bathhouse. At the domus’s front gate they parted company with their bodyguards, showing the tokens that Excingus had procured for them to the men controlling admission to the house’s grounds. A heavy-set bruiser with a missing eye looked hard at the metal squares, nodding at them with a knowing look.

  ‘Two for the inner hall!’

  One of his comrades gestured to the house.

  ‘This way sirs.’

  The party was clearly already in full swing, noisy revellers having spilled out onto the wide terrace that fronted the house, and as the bouncer led them round to the left side of building a couple ran across their path and into the garden, the female looking over her shoulder at her partner with a lustful expression. The sounds of laughter and the grunts and moans of sexual activity could be heard from the gloom of the house’s grounds, clearly left unlit to facilitate privacy in these encounters, and Scaurus muttered a quiet aside to Marcus.

  ‘It’s a clever tactic, to hold parties where anyone can pair off with anyone else in complete privacy, and I’d imagine Pilinius buys up half the city’s most expensive prostitutes for the occasion. Any allegations about whatever it is that he gets up to will instantly be suppressed by the more powerful guests, even if they’re not involved in his perversions, for fear of their own little indiscretions coming to light.’

  They entered the house through a side door, finding themsel
ves confronted by another half-dozen doormen. Knowing what to expect, they stood still and allowed the senator’s men to run expert hands through their clothing and across their torsos and limbs.

  ‘They’re clean. Take ’em through.’

  The man who stepped out to escort them into the house was at odds with the muscular and hard-faced doormen, with the look of someone more accustomed to giving orders than taking them, but lacking the physique to impose his will upon others. He took their tokens and examined them both carefully before exchanging a knowing glance with Scaurus, and Marcus guessed that this must be the senator’s duplicitous secretary. Having led them down a narrow corridor, with the sounds of merriment leaking through the doors on their right, he paused at a flight of stairs, speaking to them in an urgent whisper.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if the tokens I gave to Excingus were going to come back tonight, but it seems that you’re intent on whatever it is that you’ve come for. Are you thieves?’

  Scaurus nodded, and Marcus kept his mouth shut as the tribune spun out the story they had agreed with the informant earlier in the day.

  ‘We know that your master keeps his greatest treasures out of public view, the items that he picks up when he’s working for the emperor?’

  The secretary’s eyes widened.

  ‘You know about …?’

  ‘We know everything about it, friend. Everything.’

  The other man frowned his incomprehension.

  ‘But if you know everything, then you’ll know that all Senator Pilinius takes from their houses are—’

  ‘There you are, Belenus, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!’ A bulky, toga-clad figure with a shaved head was coming up the stairs with grunts of exertion. Asinius Pilinius sent me to find you, and to tell you that his guests are ready for the show to begin.’

  The secretary bowed respectfully.

  ‘As you say, sir. I’ll just escort these two gentlemen to the lower level and then—’

  ‘No need! You go and get it all started, and I’ll take them downstairs!’

  Without any choice in the matter, Belenus bowed respectfully, turning away to his duty.

  ‘Yes, Senator, as you wish.’

  He made his exit, leaving the two men to the newcomer. Marcus watched him as he hurried away, returning his fearful backward glance with an impassive stare. Climbing the remaining stairs, the newcomer stuck out a hand, clasping both men in turn with a firm if slightly moist grip.

  ‘Now, gentlemen, on behalf of Asinius Pilinius, welcome to this entertaining little event! I’m Titus Pomponius Avenus, one of his closest friends and, I should add, one of the original members of this select group of men. You’re new to this, I presume? I don’t recognise your faces from any of the previous times we’ve gathered to celebrate!’

  Scaurus inclined his head with just the right degree of respect.

  ‘Indeed, Senator, this is the first time that we’ve been invited to join in the fun.’ Avenus raised an eyebrow and, knowing that any failure to convince the man as to their bona fides might lead to suspicions that would unravel their cover story, the tribune took on a confiding look. ‘In truth, Senator Pilinius took pity on the pair of us when I expressed an interest in his events, having heard of them from a mutual friend. He issued us both with an invitation, accompanied by clear instructions to keep ourselves to ourselves on this occasion.’

  Avenus nodded knowingly.

  ‘And that’s sagacious advice, I’d say. He won’t want you bothering his more distinguished guests, not until you’ve proven yourselves as worthy members of our rather exclusive group. What is it that you both do with yourselves?’

  Scaurus smiled modestly, bowing again.

  ‘Allow me to introduce myself and my colleague. I’m Gaius Rutilius Scaurus, and this is Marcus Tribulus Corvus. We both have the honour to serve the empire as legion tribunes. Having recently returned to Rome from Britannia, where shows such as the one the Senator is hosting tonight are by no means a rarity, I was musing to him only last week how much I missed a little, shall we say, unusual entertainment?’

  The stout patrician guffawed.

  ‘So you’re not such new boys to our little games after all! I’ll wager that you get a good deal more variety than we do though, what with all those exotic barbarian women, eh?’ Marcus grinned, showing his teeth in an expression that was perilously close to becoming a snarl, but the other man was too far gone in his own fantasies to notice such a subtlety. ‘I’m not sure that we’ve got anything quite as exciting as the entertainment you’ll have seen in Britannia, but tonight’s entertainment promises to be quite special. The Senator procured a large number of performers only a week or so ago, enough for everyone here to participate. And since I’m a staunch supporter of the army, I feel it my duty to take you both under my wing, so to speak. Tonight, gentlemen, you will be my companions. Come along then!’

  He turned and made his way back down the stairs with the two men following behind, and after twenty or so steps, led them into a large, torchlit room.

  ‘Quite an ingenious little play room, wouldn’t you say? There’s no way into it other than the staircase we just came down and a door that leads into the grounds at the rear of the house, and the wall between this and the rest of the house is so thick that I doubt you could hear a trumpeter on the other side if he were blowing fit to burst!’

  Marcus looked back at the entrance to the staircase, noting that a massive iron gate stood ready to swing into the opening, with a heavy wooden bar leaning on the wall beside it. He looked about him, frowning as he recognised a pattern in the tiled floor.

  ‘Is that a robbers board?’

  Avenus grinned.

  ‘I should have expected a military man such as yourself to have recognised it. Yes, we don’t always use it, but tonight it seems we have enough participants to provide all of the pieces for a game. Isn’t that exciting? Ah, and there’s our host!’

  They followed his pointing hand to find Pilinius deep in discussion with a pair of men who looked vaguely familiar to Marcus. Scaurus nodded, looking about him with the air of a man keen not to attract attention to himself.

  ‘Well that’s been very kind of you, Pomponius Avenus. We’ll just take up a position here and watch from the sidelines, as it were. I don’t want to transgress on the terms under which we were granted our very kind invitation.’

  Avenus bridled.

  ‘Nonsense! I’m sure that Asinius Pilinius simply meant for you not to interrupt any conversations whose participants don’t actually know you. He may be busy now, but he’ll find the time to greet you soon enough, I’ll make sure of that! After all, what sort of host would fail to grant some recognition to his guests, however brief. In the meantime, let’s get into a good place for the show, shall we? You can repay the favour by telling me all about these “entertainments” of yours in Britannia!’

  Julius nudged Cotta, pointing at a wagon coming towards them down the street. They were in the doorway of a shop whose owner had long since closed up for the evening.

  ‘What do you reckon?’

  The former centurion peered around the doorway’s stone arch.

  ‘Could be. I’d have expected more than one wagon though, if they’re going to have enough slaves for a decent …’

  He stopped talking as a second vehicle rounded the same corner and followed the first one up the shallow hill, watching as it ground along the considerable length of the wall that separated Pilinius’s domus from the street. At a prearranged signal, the gate for which they were heading opened, and the first cart rolled inside while a pair of armed guards strolled out into the street, looking up and down the hill with the bored look of men doing a job which had never once given them a reason to draw their weapons.

  ‘It’s definitely tonight then.’

  Julius nodded, watching as the second wagon pulled into the domus’s grounds and was lost to view.

  ‘Looks that way. You’d better warm your lads up.’


  ‘Distinguished guests, your attention please!’

  Pilinius stepped into the middle of the hall’s floor, his beaming smile playing on the men gathered about him as he raised his hands and turned slowly in a full circle, in the manner of a showman about to unveil his latest exotic beast from beyond the empire’s edge. Scaurus edged to one side, putting another man between himself and the senator, grateful for the interruption to Avenus’s incessant and increasingly pointed questions.

  ‘Gentlemen, it is a delight to see you all gathered here again, ready to celebrate what I think you’re going to find is a quite unparalleled collection of subjects for tonight’s entertainment. Tonight, my friends, we will not be sampling the usual assortment of criminals, runaway slaves and failed gladiators that is our usual fare. No!’

  He looked about him with a triumphant expression, raising his arms to encompass the men gathered before him.

  ‘No, my friends! Tonight we shall be feasting upon the very best that the empire has to offer our very particular tastes! For tonight, for one night only, we will enjoy the fruits of …’ He paused dramatically, milking his audience. ‘The fall of the house of Perennis!’

  His audience looked on in what Marcus could only construe as unabashed delight, men whispering to their fellows with huge grins plastered across their faces.

  ‘Oh yes, we’ve enjoyed the leavings of other great houses in our time. Few of us that were present will ever forget the sport that we had from the disgrace and execution of Senator Appius Valerius Aquila!’ Marcus froze at the words, willing himself not to leap forward and attack the man as Pilinius continued his speech. ‘But tonight, gentlemen, we have a feast to surpass even that epic Bacchanalia! Behold, our stars of the evening!’

  A dozen men clad and armed in the same manner as the doorman on the floor above hustled a large group of women forward and into the circle of torchlight in which the senator was standing. Half of them were dressed in white, the others in black, and the purpose of the chequered robbers board worked into the hall’s floor became all too obvious.