The Snake Catcher

by Bilinmeyen

  Adalwulf had joined us, leading back dozens of sweaty men, and I saw he stared at me carefully, probably feeling the rage which was familiar to him as well. I kicked, pushed, raged, and roared at Ulrich, and the huge man held me back with difficulty. He was still cool as ice. I gritted my teeth and pushed him back. We bowled over a pair of our comrades, and while trying to keep our balance, I hacked into his leg that was exposed for just a moment. He hissed with pain, dodged under my next swipe, and stabbed again. I jumped away, but the sword struck my side painfully, and people groaned, even up in the walls.

  I saw Ulrich smile, look down at Kleitos who nodded softly, and I knew his next move would put me in need of medical attention, if I was lucky.

  He came at me again, looking for that chance. I hacked, taking deep breaths. I swung so hard at his shield it actually cracked, and he, again, pushed under my next hack, and stabbed up.

  I had seen it coming. It was his favorite move, and I had rolled with his shield, stepped to the side, and let the blade sail past me.

  He stumbled forward, his shield down. He didn’t see me, and I prepared. He turned in panic, and I rammed the wooden sword as hard as I could to his face, just missing his shield, blocking his wild sword swing with my shield.

  The tip of the sword hit the giant squarely in the forehead.

  There was a cracking noise.

  He staggered back, then forth, and I slammed the shield into his face, flattening his nose.

  His eyes rolled in his head, he took a step back, and fell to his face.

  I walked past Maximus and Adalwulf, staring at Kleitos balefully.

  “I think I hurt myself,” I told him. “I’ll see the medicus.”

  ***

  I entered the main keep. A fire was burning in a brazier in the middle of the room, and stairway led to the upper floors. Guards stood in attention, and slaves were hauling food and gear around for a large kitchen in the bottom floors. Double door was ajar by the stairway, leading to what must have been Kleitos’s offices. I walked past, and saw the hawk-nosed man writing furiously. Behind him, there was a wall with thousands of scrolls, orders, unit citations, and supply reports. There were three others scribes at work in a shadowy part of the room. By the doorway, a carpet led towards a cozy, rich looking side room where Kleitos sat and ruled over our lives. There, desks and tables were filled with silver and glass jars.

  I made my way up to the second floor, where a room full of beds stretched in the shadows. Men were lying in those beds, and gray dressed men were speaking to each other, while some others were preparing medicine by a long desk. I walked over to a powerfully built man, with bushy eyebrows, who saw me approaching and waited. He had a gray hair and gentle face with blue eyes. He opened his voice mirthlessly and spoke to me. “What, got a splinter?”

  I tapped my side and chest. “Just some bruises. I’m looking for a man.”

  “Oh? The man who you are looking for, does he have a name?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Ares, I think. They said this man might help me with my injuries, and an issue with the Prefect. That this man has a past with the Prefect, and it involves a scandal of some sort.”

  He looked shocked for a moment. Then he smiled. “They say such things? Fine.” He smiled wistfully. “I am that man.”

  “Then, Ares, will you help me,” I asked.

  He clucked his tongue as he pushed my side, where the small nick from the first night’s fight had dyed the tunic with a red spot. “I don’t know. Though I share the name, I have little in common with the great god of the battlefields. I cannot help you with dangerous foes, though I know the work of Asclepius. My father hoped I’d be a warrior, you see.” He clucked his tongue again. “I’ll take care of that.” He snorted as he pressed the red spots Ulrich had delivered. “The bruises? My sister’s boy gets worse ones when he is playing hide and seek. Though, I’ll have a look at that.” He looked long and hard at the neck. “That looks fresh as well. So you are that one.” He took a critical eye of my overall condition. “In fact, looks like you are the sort who collects scars. Take the tunic away.”

  I did and snorted. “I have a tendency to annoy men with blades.”

  He squinted at my finger as well. Leuthard had broken it, and it had healed badly as I had had no time to rest it. “It was broken. It works?” he asked.

  “It mostly mended,” I said, annoyed as he kept probing me.

  “And that chest? Someone tried to rip a piece of meat out of it? My boy, you are trouble,” he muttered. “I think you’ll keep me quite busy.”

  Indeed, Leuthard had nearly ripped my heart out. And, yes, I was trouble. “I keep hearing that.”

  He whistled, and spoke to another man in Greek. Their voices echoed eerily in the semi-dark room. I sat, waited, and grinned, as I heard commotion downstairs. Kleitos was yelling at a guard, then at Maximus, and finally, I heard huffing curses as steps echoed in the stairway. Four men appeared, casting baleful looks my way. They were carrying Ulrich, who was barely coherent, his eyes unfocused. The medicus appeared with my medicine and smiled softly. “Ulrich? Well done.”

  “He got cocky in the end,” I whimpered. Pain lanced through me as the man touched the wound on the side and washed it. The medicine smelled like a turd mixed in flowers, and felt strangely cool. “Tell me, my friend, a man with a red hair. Have you seen him?”

  He snorted as he worked. “Did you call me your friend? Or him?”

  I rubbed my forehead. “How costly is it to be your friend?” I asked him.

  “Not very costly, my lord,” he smiled. “I’ll think of something. Redhead? Yes, there was a man here with an injury. Slash in his chest. Deep. He is friend of that one,” he said, and nodded towards Ulrich. “And that one man they call Grim. Some others.”

  “Yes, Grim,” I said. “Where is the redhead, firstly?”

  “He was here,” the man said. “And now, he is not. He left. If he is not with the turma, then I don’t know. As for Grim?” He shrugged.

  “Grim left as well, they told me,” I said. “I guess they are both gone. And you don’t know where?”

  “Why would I?” he said uncomfortably. “They are gone, or hidden. But, I thought you had an issue with the Prefect you needed help with?” He slapped my shoulder. “Your wound’s going to be fine, I think. Gods might prove me wrong, but usually they agree with me,” he said, and looked Ulrich’s way. “There are some ten Ubii in the fourth. Ten, and that one and Grim are the best of friends. Perhaps you should ask him where Grim is?”

  “I was asking you,” I told him. “Thank you for the medicine.”

  He waved his hand. “Think nothing of it, friend. Nothing of it. Whatever evil happens in the Guard, I want no part of it. I just take care of you lot.” He squinted at me. “But, I can tell you this much. Grim hasn’t actually left.” He smiled softly as he got up. “He has been on this floor the day of the funeral. He never went down.”

  Been on the floor? I thought, not sure what he meant. I looked around. The beds, the braziers, the stone wall. There was nothing else.

  Except for a way to the top floor.

  The stairway led up to the higher floors, and I heard a guard walking there. The medicus turned to walk for Ulrich. “If you have no other questions—”

  “What’s up there?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Cells, my boy. Cells. The disobedient, the criminals, the fools go up there. They have bread and water, until their issues are solved by Kleitos and the Decurions. But, I have to admit, I don’t know what one prisoner has done to receive such a fine meal, as they take to one of them. There’s Falernian wine, mutton, the very best bread, and thrice a day. You should see the girl that serves him. I don’t think she belongs there, to be honest. She is tall and lithe, with blonde hair, and emerald green eyes. A whore, perhaps, but clearly one man’s whore. I heard them whispering there. Grim is an unhappy man.”

  I scowled. “He is? Does Kleitos take interest in this one p
risoner?”

  He laughed. “Kleitos? He keeps him hidden. And the man wants out. I think he’ll take the whore and desert. He told her so, when they were whispering up there.”

  “You hear a lot, Ares,” I said critically. “You listen well, but perhaps you are too curious.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. I’ve told you enough of Grim. Be careful, my friend. But, know they have the Ubii who guard that floor and the tower now. Now, I have to go, unless you wish to speak of the Prefect?”

  I nodded and pulled him close. “To the point, then. I hear you have a history with Kleitos. That there was some issue which you might not wish to talk about. But, I’d hear of it, nonetheless. And, if possible, I’d like to help you.”

  He stiffened. He looked at me long and hard, and smiled. “So this is how you get your injuries. I just said you should be careful. I have heard he doesn’t like you.”

  “Careful?” I said spitefully. “I should be aggressive instead,” I growled. “I’m the sort of a man who attracts blades, but I’m also the sort of a man who takes a sword to those who annoy me.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Sword? I don’t want you to take sword to him.” I opened my mouth, and went quiet as sorrow filled the man’s face. He pressed his belly absentmindedly, clutching at his tunic. “I was too honest.”

  “Too honest?” I wondered. “That can probably be a problem in Rome.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I forgive Kleitos many things. I was a scribe before I was thrust into this hole to poke at puss-filled wounds.” He smiled wistfully. “I loved him. Still do. But, I tried to contain his creed. And when that creed overflowed like the river, and he began to steal more and more, he grew tired of my complaints. But, you won’t be able to prove this, will you? You will be helpless if you try to blame him for anything. It’s that lover of his who keeps his records, the one who slithered to his bed.” He growled audibly. “Hawk-nosed little Gaul. Marcus.”

  I sat there and wondered. I shook my head and leaned closer. “You said he is stealing.”

  “I’m not going to help you hurt him,” he said mulishly. “At least not permanently. But—” His eyes glinted with guile.

  “Can you help me get to Marcus?” I asked him carefully.

  He was nodding happily. “I think that might be possible. Do you make an oath not to hurt Kleitos?”

  I didn’t think twice. I lied. “Yes.”

  He nodded, licking his lips. “Perhaps you are gods sent. You are my key out of this shit-filled place back into his side. And, if you lie, remember I’m the man who might care for you if you are truly hurt. Imagine that, man, semi-conscious as I hover above you, ready to extract a barbed arrow. Do not lie!”

  He looked desperate, and I spoke and prayed I’d never be hit by barbed arrows. “I swore. I meant it.”

  He began to check my wounds again, whispering at the same time. “Marcus has an apartment in the city. It’s not far, in fact. I know, because I followed him many times when he took my place.” He leaned closer. “They say that’s where they keep much of the records of their thefts. It’s their little love nest, and they say men guard it. Perhaps this redhead is there? I know not. There’s no proof of any wrongdoing in the office below, if that is what you were thinking about. Now,” he said and leaned closer, “I’ll have Eyes take you there, if you leave Kleitos out of it. Sink the bastardy Marcus as deep in shit as you can. Deep enough for him to drown.” He hesitated. “Or,” he went on, swallowing bile, “sink a sword into him.”

  “I see,” I said. “Sword, or shit.”

  “Sword,” he answered maliciously. “He needs to die. Leave Kleitos out of it, and perhaps he shall love me again. I’ll give him comfort.”

  I nodded, uncomfortable with his intensity. “You understand I’m looking for something to get Kleitos off my back,” I said, reminding him I had not appeared there to improve his love life. “I need something to make him take a more relaxed view about my stay in the Guard. Something he needs to think about, when he acts irrationally. Are you sure there is something there to condemn them?” That was part of it, and I was looking for something to damn him to Hel. Proof to tie him to Julia, or other conspirators. And Marcus might be just the man who knew much about such matters.

  I needed proof that very night. Marcus would deliver.

  He fidgeted. “You can take something and extort the man. Can you read?”

  I nodded. “When is this scribe there?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “But, I’d imagine when he must sleep. He has a bed in the Block, but he mostly sleeps there.” He poked me. “Go, and tell me how things work out.” He hesitated and cursed, and shook his head. “I hope I won’t regret this. I will tell Eyes to take you there. When is your guard duty?”

  “Third hour,” I told him.

  “Meet him at the gate by the first,” he winked. “Good luck. For all our sakes.”

  I walked to the stairway. I gazed up, and was met by the eyes of the Guard. One of the Ubii, no doubt. I walked out and past the training troops. I’d not get to Grim.

  Adalwulf had been leaning on the wall, gazing appraisingly at the training troops, and then he stepped before me. “I sent your boys to sleep,” he said. “What were you doing in the city today?”

  “We were sightseeing,” I told him.

  “Oh?” he asked. “Did you know one of Julia’s servants was killed today. Robbed.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I answered. “I’ll go and sleep now, take a bath, and we’ll leave by the third—”

  He shook his head and pushed me aside. “You were looking for the gladiator. You were doing exactly what you were told not to do.”

  “I was told,” I hissed and ripped his hand off me, “to seduce Julia. I’ve started well on that path, as well.”

  He chortled, and I found I was very displeased with him. He slapped my shoulder, clearly containing his anger as well. “Be careful, Hraban. It has been said many times. Stop going after the weapons. Leave the gladiator alone. Leave Kleitos alone, if you are after him. You are like a rabid dog, boy, biting when bitten, and never thinking further. Antagonize Kleitos, and they will have a reason to kick you out. They will have a reason to complain to Augustus, and if there are traitors in the Guard, you might be delivering Tiberius and Antonia to them. Gods know who else.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with Julia,” I told him obstinately.

  “You are not? Are you a fucking eunuch? This is Rome. I’ve done all sort of shit for the family. All sort. Stop being such a damned bastard coward,” he growled and lowered his voice as men were looking our way. “You just do as Livia says, and keep your eyes open. You are making a mess of everything. You will suffer, if you mess things up. You are no different from me.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked him, biting back my rage.

  “I, too, have things I have to take into consideration, to mull over, while I serve them,” he said reluctantly. “Grow the shit up.”

  “I’ve—”

  “Shut up,” he added. “You have a special duty today, Hraban. You and your boys go in early.”

  “Early?” I asked, cursing softly. “Why early?”

  “Because she asked for you,” he said with a vicious undercurrent in his voice. “That’s why.” He nodded at our barracks. “In that house we use to watch Julia from, there are ragged tunics and gear that makes you look like a dirty Roman laborer. I will make sure some of your friends will be there every night. Some servants who know the city as well. If she wants to take you to the city, they’ll be there. She is tugging at the bait, Hraban. She has never asked for a Guard to come to her early.”

  “I cannot be there every night,” I said. “It will raise suspicions.”

  Gods, I’d have to go there, and somehow survive the night. No matter what Cassia said, what Livia, Adalwulf and other were saying, I wasn’t ready to do it. “She wants me in early?”

  “Julia wants you in early,” he said with a small smile. “And th
at means you will go. Either you made an impression, or they want you dead. You will meet her in Curia Julia in the Forum by the fourth hour. Take one of yours with you, and I will have the others guard the house from the outside. Take care, Hraban.”

  I stood there, contemplating mutiny. I was committed to escaping my dilemma, I had found a clue that might lead us all to freedom, and yet Woden thrust another test my way. And if I refused to obey, my friends and Cassia would suffer.

  CHAPTER 13

  We trekked down Via Flaminius.

  I was cursing, sweating with fear and anger. Eyes had stared at us as we walked out of the Block, his eyes confused. I had hissed at his ear, and he had nodded.

  Later.

  Wandal was dog tired, his eyes barely open. I was yawning, and I knew Adalwulf would wake up Tudrus and his brothers, who would meet with Brimwulf in Palatine at the evening. The archer had been bright as morning, apparently needing little, or no, sleep. Rochus would be there as well.

  But, I’d have to endure Julia.

  I cursed her, and I cursed Adalwulf. Wandal tried to cheer me up.

  “I never get used to this,” Wandal complained, looking skittish as a deer as he eyeballed the multitudes of people surging around him. “I miss the Black Forest.”

  “I bet the winters are nicer here, though,” I grumbled. “Unless you catch some nasty disease.”

  “Forum?” he asked. “Try not to look like that when you see her. She might get scared.”

  “Forum,” I answered. “I’ll try to recover by then.”

  We made our way to the heart of Rome, keeping to the great streets we knew. We entered the forum, and asked for directions, though Basilica Julia was not hard to find at all. We walked for the gigantic, pillared temple. We stood in the steps, until Wandal spotted two white cloaks to the side, and pulled me along.

  “Guards,” he muttered and he was right. There, in the end of the portico, she was leaning to the wall. There would be unseen spies of Livia and Adalwulf nearby, looking at her conducting her business.