Fists of Iron: Barbarian of Rome Chronicles Volume Two

by Nick Morris

  “What hold did you have over Orbiana to cause her to carry out such a foul act of betrayal?” the Greek asked.

  She struggled to swallow the blood that was filling her mouth and seeping down her throat. She thought her voice sounded thick when she answered. “Vulso has always had uses that I’ve taken advantage of, and, I used family as my lever of choice. I convinced the naïve bitch that I’d bought her younger sister, and that I’d not hesitate to place her in a busy brothel if she did not comply with my instructions. It was not easy, particularly when she developed feelings for your fucking Clodian. I had to be at my most persuasive…and descriptive.”

  “And where is the child?”

  “I’ve no idea. I never knew. But I knew that Orbiana loved the child dearly, and that was enough.”She coughed, droplets of blood speckling the Greek’s face. “Personally, I’ve found the bonds of family to be extremely over-valued.”

  There was a sudden rush of air from her throat, followed by a gush of dark red. She managed to blurt out, “You said…you’d not...!”

  “I lied.”

  The dog’s words registered in her brain, and then she slumped forwards.

  She didn’t feel her face hit the beautiful mosaic of a frolicking Venus and Apollo.

  Neo crouched in the shadow of the villa’s perimeter wall. He bent and cleaned his scalpel on the grass, then wiped the blood stains from his face, hoping that the blood on his black tunic and cloak would not be noticeable on his re-entry to the city. He planned to walk to the Stabian Gate – it was the city’s busiest even at night and there was less chance that he’d draw any attention. And, as a busy surgeon he was regularly stained with the blood of his patients. He could lie very convincingly when needed, if he was stopped.

  He stood up straight and took a deep breath. His hand shook as a he hid the scalpel beneath his cloak. He’d managed to do it, despite his nagging doubts that he could take her life. Now, he was relieved that he’d done it. There’d been no other choice, not if Clodian was to remain alive, and Neo believed that he was probably the one person that no one would suspect. Suspicion would doubtless fall on Clodian, but he’s ensured that his noble friend had a water-tight alibi. Tonight, Clodian was the house-guest of one of the city’s leading quaestores. Clodian had no idea about his night’s work. Neo would tell him when he felt the time was right.

  Despite the queasiness that lingered in his belly, Neo didn’t challenge the quiet voice in his mind that affirmed that the Empire was a better place without Flavia Inciatus – a vile creature who’d gotten through her young life using scheming, cruelty and murder…but no more.

  Bracing himself for a long walk, he set out for the Stabian Gate.

  The moon was very bright, its bright face lighting up the sea, gleaming silver on black.

  Akana pushed back her hood and straightened her back for the first time in days when in public view.

  She felt happy and relieved, knowing that her arrival at Ostia was assured. Ostia, lying north of Rome was a hectic centre of trade and shipping. She knew that she’d never be discovered amongst the large port’s clamour and chaos. With the first stage of her journey complete, she’d book passage to Carthage before taking ship to Alexandria and her home. She’s been cautious and decided to travel via Carthage in order elude any of Flavia’s dogs on her trail. It would prolong her journey, but she was in no hurry.

  She smiled, acknowledging that she’d foiled her mistress. She’s picked the time of her departure perfectly and imagined that Flavia must be enraged.

  Akana had thought well about her disguise for some time, and it had proved successful. Following the defeat of the Dacian, Flavia had been livid, and Akana knew that her own usefulness would soon come to an end. Flavia had begun to show increasingly less interest in her as a lover, and had bedded a selection of others in her place, notably one of the recently employed, well-endowed guards. She knew the axe’s shadow was upon her and that she needed to disappear before it fell.

  As planned, she’d cut her hair short and bleached it white. She’d coated her face and other visible parts with a blended powder that gave her skin a greyish-yellow pallor. Carefully etched crows’ feet completed the deception, along with filthy garb and a practiced stooped gait. Too clever by far, you fucking whore, she mused, a smile splitting her made-up face.

  She’d spent long hours thinking about her future when in Egypt, planning what her life would become. She’d already chosen a new name: Nabirye. It meant mother and she liked the sound of it. With her savings she would rent a small house, somewhere busy, well placed for business. Her money would not last indefinitely and she understood that she had to earn a living. She would advertise herself as a ‘healer’. She had the basic knowledge and would not attempt anything too elaborate. She’d decided to leave her poisoning days behind, although she knew that there would be a demand for such a service wherever she went. No, it was a quieter life that she now sought, one free from the risk of discovery and the nagging fear of retribution.

  She would probably get herself a husband; someone who could give her a baby. She’s always dreamed that one day she’d have a child, a boy or girl, it didn’t matter. She’d cherish it, as it would be part of her. Could she love a husband? She was doubtful, as there’d been so many men and women during her time with Flavia. Some she’d been attracted to, but others she’d been revolted by and despised, and had never been able to show it. The years of forced desire and unwavering sexual service had drained her dry. Perhaps it might one day change…in time? And time was something that she now had plenty of.

  A strong wind blew up from the west, and invigorated she could contain her joy no longer. Alone on this part of the deck she spoke the words aloud for the first time, “Going home at last, going home.”

  She closed her eyes, breathing the wind deep into her lungs.

  She was stronger than he thought, fighting desperately to push her fingers under the ligature that was choking the life from her.

  She couldn’t cry out. Instead, she made grunting, gasping noises as her hands strained backwards, trying to reach his eyes. It was no use and he savagely yanked her head towards him. At the same time he drove his knee into the base of her spine, crossing his wrists and tightening the knotted rope deeper into her throat.

  Her struggling got steadily weaker, and then ceased. As she slumped to the deck he saw that she’d wet herself. He placed his boot on her neck and gave the ligature a final twist.

  He quickly looked around and saw that there were still no witnesses. He prised the embedded rope from the woman’s neck, then lifted and toppled the body over the side. There was a faint splash in the ship’s wake.

  She’s probably dead on hitting the water, he thought. If not, good enough for the treacherous slut.

  He leaned on the ship’s handrail, in the same spot that the woman had just occupied. He made sure he avoided the wetness pooled at his feet. Staring out at the waves he recounted how easily he’d found his victim. She’d made a fair attempt to disguise herself, he gave her that. He’d bribed two servants in Flavia’s household to closely watch her and follow her if she suddenly made any unusual trips, particularly at night. He’d been immediately informed of her clandestine departure from the villa and where she’d taken lodgings. The disguise was good but not good enough to fool him. Her return visit to The Dolphin had confirmed his suspicions. Her fate was sealed.

  He removed a small flask from the inside of his cloak. Uncorking it, he raised his hand to the sky. “To you, old friend.” He took a long swallow.

  He believed that his friend would have been pleased with his night’s work. He’d say nothing to the young master, and he’d been instructed to say nothing to Neo as well.

  And, Belua knew that Kaeso was a man of his word.

  The Stabian Baths was reasonably quiet and he easily spotted Clodian on the opposite side of the cold room. He was reclining against the cool marble of the far wall with Malleolus sat at his side. Gordeo waved to
gain his attention, and Clodian waved back. Unfastening the towel from around his considerable girth he descended the few steps into the pool. The cold water took his breath away, a marked contrast to the cloying heat of the hot room he’d just left. He waded slowly towards the young noble who’d invited him to a meeting there. He mounted the opposite steps, breathless after the exertion. Gods, I need to lose some of this blubber, he chastised himself.

  “Welcome,” greeted Clodian as he rose to his feet, “and thank you for coming at such short notice.”

  “Please, sit, because I intend to, before I collapse,” said Gordeo, dropping to the floor with a loud, wet slap. He covered his privates with his towel, his chest wheezing like an old bellows.

  “Are you all right,” Clodian asked.

  “Fine…just give me a moment.” He rested his head back against the stone wall for long seconds before turning his face towards the young noble.

  “How can I be of help?” he asked, studying Clodian’s face. The scar aside, he’d changed: the smile was still there, but the eyes were much older, thoughtful.

  “I’m planning to leave Campania.”

  “I see,” said Gordeo, taken aback. “Can I enquire when?”

  “As soon as I’ve put some business affairs in order, and after I secure the services of a suitable manager to look after my family’s estates when I’m away. You see, I plan to accompany Neo to Greece, and, I’m not sure when I’ll return.”

  “Well, that‘s quite a surprise, I must say,” said Gordeo. “Forgive me if I sound presumptuous, but with Flavia’s death I thought…” He hesitated before continuing, “I thought that Pompeii would be a better and safer place for you.”

  “I’m aware of the rumours regarding my suspected involvement in her murder, but I can assure you that the city’s quaestores are quite satisfied that I played no part in it.”

  “I meant no offence.”

  “None taken. I’m certainly sleeping easier at night, and it’s true that I had good reason to kill her. However, someone else has done the city that service.”

  “That I agree with, and I suspect that the assassin is long gone by now.”

  “Who knows,” said Clodian, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Now on to the reason I asked you here.”

  “Please enlighten me.”

  “Neo tells me that you’ve been considering retirement from your post as Imperial Procurator.”

  “That’s true, but I’ve not put quite enough aside as yet. Not if I intend to live out my retirement to the standard I’m used to.”

  “Then I’d like to make you a job offer. I’d like you to consider the post of running my family estates while I’m away.”

  Gordeo felt the words stick in his throat. “Why…me?”

  “I need a man with good business sense, and one I can trust. Neo said you were such a man.”

  “The Greek said that?”

  “He did, and advised that I pay you an annual fee of a thousand sesterces. My family have properties and businesses throughout Campania, and the job will involve extensive travelling. So, I’m prepared to offer a wage of fifteen hundred sesterces a year. My father always said that a prudent employer pays well if he expects good workmanship. Unfortunately, I will need your answer immediately.”

  The boy has changed, admonished Gordeo, and it seems that the lemon hasn’t dropped far from its branch. He rubbed his chin, as if the decision was a terribly difficult one. He knew that it didn’t pay to appear too eager.

  “It will be an honour to be of service to your house,” he eventually replied with a seated bow, his stomach preventing anything more extravagant.

  “Excellent!” said Clodian, looking very pleased. “And there is a favour I would ask of you at the outset.

  “Merely ask.”

  “The girl – Orbiana – you know about her?”

  “Sadly, I do.”

  “She has a young sister of about ten summers who was sold into bondage at the same time as she was. I would like you to find the girl if she’s still alive, and have her brought to Pompeii, regardless of the cost. Can you do this for me?”

  “With the contacts I have, I can find just about anyone if they are still breathing. But, why would you do this for her, after…what she tried to do?”

  “Please, do not question my reasons?”

  “Very well, I’ll do as you ask.”

  “My thanks.”

  “Regarding a different matter,” Gordeo began, “please tell me where you plan to lay Belua’s ashes to rest?”

  “I have them safe, do not worry,” said Clodian, his face breaking into a smile. “And, the question of his resting place has been the subject of much debate. Malleolus said we should lay him alongside Prudes, but Neo and I decided we would take him with us to Greece. We agreed that he’d enjoy the sea journey, and I promised him a holiday before he….” His voice grew thick and he could not finish.

  “I think Belua would find that agreeable.” Gordeo paused for a while, uncertain whether he should speak about what he felt. “I know he had his suspicions about my dealings with Flavia.” It stung him to say the woman’s name. “I understand why: with Prudes’ death and the attempts on your life, and the woman’s rabid determination to rule your house by any means. Yet, I was only ever a messenger. Unlike Belua, I was too much of a coward to be anything else. Regardless of what Belua really thought of me, he was the closest thing to a friend that I’ve ever had. Sadly, I was a pale shadow of a friend to him. I could not even bear to watch him fight the Dacian, believing that he could not win.”

  “But, he did, and he’ll always be remembered as a true champion, one who possessed great courage and an indomitable spirit,” said Clodian, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “Well, I think a drink to seal our agreement is in order,” Clodian went on to suggest.

  “An excellent idea,” he agreed.

  Clodian got to his feet, and along with Malleolus offered him a helping hand. They heaved him up into a standing position.

  “Gra…Gratitude,” he thanked them, puffing heavily again.

  A smiling Clodian quipped to Malleolus, “I believe the wine is on you my friend.”

  “Have I missed something?” Gordeo asked the young noble, noting Malleolus’s peeved expression.

  “Only that Malleolus bet me that you’d accept not a quadran under two thousand sesterces…”

  It seems I was right about the lemon tree, admonished Gordeo, smiling painfully.

  Chapter 39

  JOURNEYS

  Neo appeared notably edgy as he supervised the loading of his property for the voyage. Two sailors edged up the loading ramp with the physician exhorting caution in their wake. The wooden crate held an assortment of surgical items, numerous sealed pots of medicine, books and jars of salves, as well as personal items. It also contained Belua’s ashes.

  Clodian smiled as he recalled the recent discussions regarding the most suitable resting place for his friend. He was pleased that Belua was going with them.

  The crate safely stored aboard the wide bellied trader, The Laconian, Neo headed towards him.

  “The captain says that we should now board to catch the evening’ tide,” he stated.

  “Very well,” said Clodian. He turned to those gathered to bid them farewell.

  Kaeso and Gordeo shook their hands and wished them a favourable wind at their backs. Malleolus was accompanying them and was in a particularly good humour.

  Clodian was taking a sizable amount of gold coin with him and Neo had suggested that Malleolus might be employed as a trusted guard to accompany them on the outward journey. Clodian was in agreement and Malleolus was happy to be of service. In fact, the ex-gladiator had said that he might stay on in Greece, as he had nothing and no-one to draw him back. He also pointed out that he’s heard it said that Greek women were notably fulfilling in the bed-chamber and knew how to look after their men outside of it.

  In fact, Malleolus saw the voyage as an a
dventure; a paid holiday rather than a job, and Clodian knew that Neo would be less nervous with the burly pugile aboard.

  “I will regularly keep you abreast of the affairs of your estate, and I will do my best for the girl,” reassured Gordeo, referring to Calliste, Orbiana’s younger sister. Gordeo had already located the girl and purchased her release. He’d also arranged for her to be brought to his villa, where her education would be completed under his guidance. Clodian felt that he owed this to Orbiana after Neo had re-counted Flavia’s threats to harm the girl. The revelation had meant a lot to him, easing the ache of betrayal.

  He still could barely comprehend that Neo had made an end to Flavia. It was another debt he could never repay. Well, perhaps in a small way; by helping Neo set up his practice in Greece. Although it wasn’t really a kindness, but something he would be part of, something that he wanted to do more than anything else.

  Gordeo had informed him that he’d resigned his commission as procurator and planned to take a trip north himself, before he launched himself into his new post. He’d briefly mentioned that it was a trip long overdue.

  “Will you return some day, Clodian?” Kaeso asked. He’d never given him an answer when he’d enquired about what business had recently called him away. He’d simply replied that it had been important and had said no more.

  “I probably will, but I’ve no idea when. I’ve not thought that far ahead, and there will be plenty to occupy me when we get to Greece.”

  “Well then, may your gods of choice watch over you,” said Kaeso, smiling. His reference to the gods was not lost on Clodian.