The Sign of the Eagle

by Jess Steven Hughes

  Taurus halted and fixed his cold eyes on the shorter sentry. “At least I like women, Priscus, not young boys.”

  “Aye, but I wait till I’m off duty. Maybe you want to run the gauntlet, but a head bashing isn’t my idea of a good time.”

  Taurus snorted but seemed to change his mind and stepped back.

  She almost decided to flee, but keeping her fear under control, she smiled demurely but persisted. “I must see Lady Pollia alone. All I ask is your silence. I won’t tell a soul. Maybe this would help you decide.” She unhooked the gold necklace studded with sapphires from around her neck, hoping they were open to bribery. They locked their eyes on the sparkling ornament and drew closer.

  “Here,” she said and offered it to Taurus.

  Taurus examined the jewelry closely and a grin rippled across his scarred mouth. “Ha! See this, Priscus? The women always pay me!” He snatched it out of her hand. “For this I’ll go blind.”

  Macha resisted the urge to slap him, but instead turned to Priscus. “I haven’t forgotten you.” She gave gold earrings embossed with tiny red rubies to the shorter guard.

  “What about Senator Bassus and the Emperor?” Priscus asked Taurus as he grabbed the earrings from Macha’s hand. “The Senator’s bound to question the prisoner.”

  “Not tonight,” Taurus answered. “Senator Bassus left the palace. The Emperor won’t do anything till he returns.”

  Caught by surprise, Macha choked back a response. She hadn’t expected this revelation. I hope Bassus hasn’t learned of my escape, she thought.

  “Seems I’ve got a speck of dirt in my eyes,” Priscus said as he turned away.

  “What if your centurion returns?” Macha asked.

  Taurus grinned and motioned to the jewelry. “We’ll share this stuff with him. This is different.”

  “Then it’s all set,” Macha said. “I won’t need more than a half-hour.”

  When Macha entered the room, she found Pollia sitting on a cushioned stool, in front of a small table, at the far end of the large cubiculum, studying herself in a hand-held silver mirror. Four olive oil lanterns illuminated the area, and in one corner a smoky fire burned in a small brazier.

  “You’ve wasted your time bringing food, guard,” Pollia said. “I told the centurion I wasn’t hungry.” A second passed before she turned and recognized Macha. Her face darkened as she slammed the mirror to the table and sprang to her feet.

  “What are you doing here, Macha Carataca?”

  “You know why, Pollia,” Macha replied as she approached her.

  “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Pollia crinkled her nose. “You smell of the gutter. Then again, that’s where you belong.”

  “At least I don’t stink of treason!”

  “If you don’t leave this instant, I’ll summon the guard.” Pollia nodded toward the door.

  “Don’t bother. They let me in.” Macha glided to a stop before Pollia.

  Pollia’s face paled. “The dirty scum, how dare they? The Emperor shall hear of this.”

  A mocking smile of contempt formed on Macha's bowed lips.

  “You don’t have to gloat,” Pollia hissed.

  “I’m not. I’m here to ask questions—critical questions—about my husband and son.”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “I overheard a conversation between Tribune Falco and Phidias.”

  “What’s that to me?” Pollia moved away from Macha, who followed. The Roman woman stopped by a wall and leaned her shoulder against the mural depicting Venus preparing for a bath. "I don't know them."

  “Have you forgotten the dinner party we attended at Helena and Rufus’ home?” Macha questioned.

  Pollia turned slant eyes on Macha. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Tribune Falco was there, and you know him,” Macha retorted. “Ask Phidias, he certainly knows you. They discussed your part in the kidnapping of my little boy.”

  “That’s an outrageous lie! You’re making this all up!”

  “No, Pollia,” Macha answered, shaking her head. “I have other sources confirming what they said.”

  Pollia moved back to the table, where she toyed with the small glass vials of perfume. Macha followed, watching her closely.

  “I know you didn’t cut off my son’s thumb because his hands are scarred,” she said. “Instead, you tortured some other innocent child.”

  Pollia turned away from the table and faced her. “I’ve never harmed any child, not even those nasty urchins roaming the streets of the Subura.”

  “So, it was one of them, wasn’t it?”

  “No!”

  Macha paused and looked to the door, then back at Pollia. She said slowly, enunciating each word, “I know about the list.”

  Pollia’s eyes avoided Macha's fixed gaze. “What in Sybil’s name are you talking about?”

  “You know perfectly well, and there’s more.”

  She gave Macha a scathing look. “As far as I’m concern it’s enough.”

  “Each piece of evidence alone may not be damaging,” Macha said, “but tie them together, the proof is overwhelming. The master list with all the conspirators’ names sits in the vault at the Temple of Vesta. The Emperor knows about it.” She raised a hand and pointed a finger at Pollia. “A drawing of an eagle was found, and there is the matter of Sister Licinia’s death by your weapon.” A smirk and a look of triumph crossed Macha's face.

  Pollia choked. She caught her breath. “I didn’t kill her!”

  “Why should I believe a woman who had a love affair with the chief Vestal Virgin? After committing that sacrilege, an act of murder would be nothing to you.”

  “You’re mad. Do you think I would endanger my own life?”

  Macha refrained from laughing at Pollia’s last remark and placed a hand to her own chest. “Obviously, the thought never bothered you. After Antonia scorned your advances, you threatened her with extortion, but you found Licinia to be a willing lover. Tell me, what persuaded her to conspire with you against the Emperor? Was it a huge personal gift?”

  Pollia hesitated, the muscles around her jaw tightened. “Licinia hated Vespasian because he ignored the Vestals, unlike General Valens.”

  Macha sucked in her breath and dropped her hand. “Titus’s legionary commander?”

  “Why not?” Pollia smiled in defiance, thrusting her chin forward. “Compared to that son-of-a tax collector, Vespasian, he’ll make a far superior Emperor. What do you think the eagle represented?" Her eyes smoldered, full of venom.

  Macha parted her lips about to respond but paused.

  "It was the standard of the First Italica Legion,” Pollia added.

  Macha's eyes widened. “So, it’s true. The legion is involved.”

  “Of course, headed by the General Valens himself." Pollia took a few deep breaths and seemed to stand taller before Macha with all the dignity she could muster. "You must understand, Macha, as a Patrician I am neither afraid nor am I ashamed to tell you what I have done. Patricians should stand up for what they believe, no matter the circumstances. We are the rightful rulers of Rome, not that peasant, Vespasian."

  "He's the best Emperor since Augustus," Macha said, "peasant or not." This woman is insufferable.

  "Rubbish! But that’s not all. It was I, who ordered the deaths of your stupid music teacher and your house steward."

  Macha choked and for a split second closed her eyes. Oh, Mother Goddess, I should have guessed. My poor servants. But this is not the time to mourn. Regaining her composure, she said, "I'm not surprised, but why?"

  "Metrobius was in my pay as a spy in your house."

  "My loyal steward?"

  Pollia picked up a silk handkerchief at the end of the table. She wiped her hands, tossed the cloth on the backless chair, her eyes blazed with disdain as she turned to Macha. "Why should I say anything more?"

  Macha nodded and crinkled her forehead. "Consider this Pollia, if you refuse
to tell me or Senator Bassus, you will be placed on the wheel and tortured like a common slave."

  "They wouldn't dare! I am the wife of a Roman citizen and daughter of a Senator!"

  "Oh, no? All the legal niceties of Roman Law are tossed to the Aeolian Winds when it comes to treason. Believe me, I have seen it first-hand. Torture is very painful and ugly."

  Pollia's face flushed with indignation, her eyes raked the room and the front door.

  "Just a moment ago, you said you weren't─"

  "I know what I said!" Pollia snapped. "All right," she continued, her voice dripping with bile, "Metrobius had a copy of the list I had given him for the Gauls. The fool lost it."

  That must be the list that Nicanor had stolen, Macha thought. No wonder he was murdered. But I need to hear the words from Pollia's lips. "What happened to it? Does this have something to do with Nicanor's death?"

  Pollia gestured to Macha. "Everything. Metrobius had hidden the copy in a space behind your Larium."

  "My niche for the household gods? The little shrine in the wall inset just off the atrium."

  "Where else? He stuck the list behind the miniature temple, the last place anyone would look." Then in a voice close to a growl, she continued, "Unfortunately, the fool was seen by your Greek hiding it, and he in turn stole it."

  "And you had him murdered?"

  Pollia gave Macha a scorching look but did not answer.

  "What happened to brave Patrician Pollia? You don't want to be stretched on the wheel. You would never survive the first pull of your legs and arms and would scream for a quick death."

  Pollia rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said in a bitter voice, "Metrobius discovered the list missing, but a cleaning slave reported to him that he had seen Nicanor taking something from behind the shrine."

  "And he told you?"

  "Naturally. Metrobius came to the home where Pedius and I were staying to inform me. I sent word to Falco."

  "Falco?"

  "Indeed. He hired the thugs that killed the Greek."

  "Poor Nicanor!" Loathing welled like acid within Macha's belly. Had she kept her dagger instead of leaving it with Viriatus at the river, she might have killed Pollia. How could Pollia be a part of such a horrible act?

  Pollia grinned evilly. "When Metrobius was arrested, it was Falco who poisoned his food."

  "Why Falco?" But Macha had already guessed the answer.

  Pollia shook her head. "Isn't it obvious? Under torture Metrobius would have revealed everything. As an officer, Falco had access to the kitchen. He put spoiled garum on the food. Nobody knew the difference because the fish sauce is used on everything. That's why everyone thought he died of accidental food poisoning."

  "I still don't understand why Metrobius betrayed me?"

  "You were showing too much favoritism to your assistant steward, Zeno, and Metrobius was jealous. He also wanted his freedom and the gold I promised him for his cooperation sealed the bargain." She crinkled her small straight nose. "Then there was your dear husband."

  “What about Titus?” Mother Goddess, what has this awful woman planned?

  A crooked smile crossed Pollia's full lips. “It was I who planned Titus’ doom. He and his parents scorned me. I swore one day to revenge the insult to my family. And I’ll have it yet. Even as I speak, Falco is killing your husband!”

  "My husband. Now! Why?" Anger shot through Macha's voice, her face grew hot.

  “I see I’ve caught your attention.” Pollia smirked. “What a delicious thought. Your husband assassinated by a good friend.”

  Titus killed? No! Not now, not after all she had gone through to free him? “The Praetorians and the Watch know he’s wanted for treason,” Macha stammered. She prayed Pollia was lying in an effort to throw her off guard.

  “Falco has friends among the Praetorians who are part of the plot,” Pollia said, interrupting Macha’s thoughts. “They’ll clear the way; it’s too late to stop his death!”

  “Gods forbid!”

  “Our plan would have worked if you and Senator Bassus hadn't interfered. But I'll deal with you, now!”

  Her back to the entryway, Pollia whipped out a dagger from within her gown and lunged at Macha. She sidestepped the jab.

  "Drop your weapon!" Thundered like a voice of doom from behind Pollia.

  Chapter 38

  Surprise and Revelation

  “Drop it!” The Emperor Vespasian barked from the room’s entrance. “You heard me, Lady Pollia!”

  For a second Pollia hesitated. Then she screamed, “You filthy peasant! I’m proud of what I’ve done!”

  In the flickering lamplight, Macha saw shadowy silhouettes of others behind the ruler. Bassus stepped out of the darkness, and to Macha’s delight, Titus. She resisted the urge to run to him. Pollia was in the way.

  Vespasian motioned to the Praetorian guards following behind Titus. “Seize her!”

  Instantly, as if snapping out of a trance, Pollia rushed toward Vespasian with her knife drawn with no one between her and the old warrior, Titus darted past the Emperor along with Bassus and couple of Praetorians who had drawn swords. Standing behind Pollia, Macha grabbed a mirror from the dressing table and hurled it at the woman, striking her between the shoulder blades. Pollia yelped and staggered. Macha raced to Pollia's side and grabbed the arm that held the weapon. Violently, Pollia attempted to free herself, but Macha held fast, pulling the hilt of the dagger back toward herself. Instead of resisting, Pollia suddenly slumped, and turning in Macha's direction, pushed her body against the blade. It stabbed deep between her ribs. Blood spurted from Pollia’s mouth followed by a rasping gurgle.

  Macha caught Pollia’s falling body. Blood gushed onto her stola, she shoved the corpse backwards. It thudded against the tiled floor.

  Bassus raised his eyebrows as if surprised by Macha's violent response.

  "Lady Pollia deserved death," the Emperor growled.

  Macha leaned over and glared at the corpse as if Pollia were still alive. She refused to hold her anger any longer. Macha rasped at Pollia, her eyes like the dagger that killed her.

  “You ruined my husband’s reputation with the Emperor. You kidnapped my little Titus, murdered my music teacher, his son, and my steward. How dare you say I had the nerve to meddle in your affairs? How dare you die without telling me where you hid my son? Where is he!” She brushed her hands across her face, leaving bloody hand prints and recovered her wits.

  One of the Guardsmen with Bassus stepped to the body. The Senator stayed behind and motioned to other guard to stand down. He halted and sheathed his sword, the metallic sound echoing through the room. The first Praetorian went down on one knee, examined Pollia's face and closed her eyes. He nodded to Bassus and then to Macha.

  Titus sprinted to Macha's side. She fell into his arms. “Macha, it's all right. She can never hurt us again.”

  “But she still is, Titus…even in death. Our son is still missing,” Macha whispered.

  "I will find him. I promise," Titus answered softly.

  Upon hearing Titus' reassuring voice, the tension drained from Macha's body. She reveled in the touch of his hands. Leaning against the firmness of his body, she ignored the strong prison smell knowing she could never get enough of him.

  Seconds later, Macha blushed and realized everyone was staring at them. She slipped from Titus’ loving embrace. Bassus and the Emperor chuckled.

  “Remind me never to make an enemy of you, my dear,” Vespasian said in a fatherly voice. He stepped closer. “Your action saved my life.”

  “I couldn’t let her harm you, Caesar,” Macha answered, embarrassed. Was that the reason, she thought, or my hatred of Pollia? She stared at the dead woman for a moment.

  The Emperor's coarse warm hand touched hers. “My old soldier’s instinct got the best of me. I’ve never been one to back away from a fight. You did well, Lady Carataca and you too, Tribune Titus, for going to your wife’s aid. I'll have to be more cautious, I’m getting too old for this sor
t of work.”

  “But how did you know I would be here?” Macha asked.

  “Senator Bassus can answer that,” Vespasian said.

  Bassus approached Macha. “I received news of your escape from home. Vasili was making late night rounds when he noticed you were missing.” He shook his head. “I knew you left by the secret passage. You were already through the Cloaca Maxima by the time I received the message. That was after I had returned from freeing your husband.”

  “Freeing Titus?” She looked to her husband.

  “More than my freedom was at stake,” Titus said.

  Bassus raised his hand. “The details will keep for later.”

  Macha was about to protest, but when Titus shook his head she thought better of it.

  “The Emperor came with me out of curiosity,” Bassus continued. “He wanted to learn why you were so determined to see Pollia. To be honest, he was annoyed with your disobedience of my orders. He was going to place you under arrest.”

  Macha blanched and stared at Vespasian.

  “Fortunately,” Bassus continued, “when we arrived, he saw the confrontation between you and Pollia. I was about to break it up when our Emperor whispered, 'Wait', and only interceded when Pollia pulled her knife.”

  Vespasian nodded to Titus. “Tribune,” he said gently. “You’re a lucky man; she’s a very brave, persistent woman.”

  “What about Falco?” Macha inquired, suddenly remembering he was sent to murder her husband. “Pollia said he was about to kill you.”

  “He almost did,” Titus said.

  “Thank the gods he didn’t. She laughed in my face when she spat out the words.”

  Macha glanced at Pollia’s body and her eyes caught sight of a section of parchment protruding from her bloody stola. “What’s that?”

  Titus viewed Macha quizzically.

  “There.” Macha stepped to the corpse and pulled the item free. As she examined the bloodstained document, her hand suddenly flew to her mouth. A cold prickling sensation ran down her back . “Great Mother Goddess, do you know what this is?” she asked, turning to Bassus and Titus.