Murder In-Absentia

by Assaph Mehr

  “Now you wouldn’t have found a buyer for it, would you?” Sosius asked me, half smiling. I guess the look on my face answered him plainly enough, as he continued, “Very well. I abhor burning knowledge, so will treat it with the respect and secrecy it deserves. Bring it to me. I think I have an idea of a good way to dispose of it that shall not put me or you at risk yet might still take advantage of its value.”

  I was a bit sceptic of his ability to do this, but it was his business after all. “Tell me about the rest of your travels,” he changed the subject, and I was happy to oblige. I told him of the pearl diving and pirate attack, of my travels around the Kebric Isles, and finished with the magnificent roast gryphon feast of Aulus Paulinus. A connoisseur of adventure stories, he made the right faces, gasps and exclamations at all the right points. When I got to the fugum fellis, he was snorting with glee at me hoodwinking the governor.

  “You know,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye, “I think I met this Aemilia of yours. I had a young girl walk in not two days ago, asking for the original edition of Liberalis. It was the first time I heard about it of course, and told her so. I think she didn’t quite like the answer, though she acquiesced to my expertise. Now that I understand where this was coming from, I find it even more amusing.”

  I had a chuckle myself. Apparently I left quite an impression on young Aemilia, and she was determined to prove me wrong.

  * * *

  Next on my list was trying to learn about Gaius Marcius. I knew Corpio was doing the same, but wanted to see if I could find information from a different perspective. Between Corpio’s analysis and what I learnt from the forum gossips yesterday, I was certain that the man I was looking for was the one called Gaius Marcius Gaetanicus.

  According to Corpio he was co-opted to be part of the fetiales. Officially priests of Iovis Pater of good faith, they were responsible for Egretia’s declaration of war and peace as well as confirmation of treaties. In effect, they represent Egretia as diplomats. The fetiales are traditionally chosen from amongst leading military men. Most military men are not in possession of a keen diplomatic mind, and often view international relations as something that belongs on the end of a spear. Those that do show intellectual promise are selected, trained and assigned duties usually relating to a particular province or region. They are entrusted to advise the senate about foreign matters, and in times of trouble are sent to negotiate treaties or even declare wars upon our enemies. That is common knowledge, as any boy in the street will tell you.

  There is another side to their training, however, one less publicised. Not all the fetiales are sent as diplomatic envoys. Some are sent to travel their assigned regions without the official banner of Egretia, to learn about foreign army movements, and occasionally to sow dissent amongst the populace and sabotage enemy war efforts.

  Spies, in short.

  Sometimes advancing Egretian interests is better served not with sword and spear, but with the encouragement of local coups or a quiet assassination. The fetiales have the men ready, both to advise on matters of policy and to see it carried out.

  Such men tend to be fanatically loyal to Egretia though. The founders of our colleges were smart, and to build a lasting and effective order they implemented rigorous screening the members from those who would be easily bent or bribed.

  From my own queries with the forum gossips I learnt that Gaius Marcius was the great grandson of the famous Sextus Marcius Gaetanicus, conqueror of the Gaetanii and establisher of our first foot-hold on the continent on the far side of the Mare Saepiae, almost a hundred years ago. Gaetanicus’ grand-uncle, eldest son of the great Sextus Gaetanicus, was consul some seventy years ago. His father served as the Primus Rhonus of the Collegium Militum.

  This was one of the families in power that Fufidius was railing against last night. Why would such a man be interested in a change of the social order? What might drive him to join Zymaxis’ revolutionary cabal?

  Only one way to find out. It didn’t take me too long to inquire after the family’s lodging, talking to neighbours and slaves at back doors to locate the right house. He was living in a good sized domus up on the Clivi Ulterior, as befitting a man of his background. I didn’t need the man himself, however, just his slaves and neighbours. I wanted to learn when he was seen, what parties he attended, what comments about the political status quo he made. This took a while, as I had to choose my cover stories carefully. Men of rank do not just open up to random strangers, and tell intimate stories involving their friends.

  Unhappy slaves do.

  Between a fast talking sly tongue and a few coins donated to self-liberation funds, I learnt quite a bit. He was the eldest son, and inherited the family house after his father’s death three years ago. He had a wife by the name of Aurelia, married about ten years ago. No children. Arbarica seemed to be his usual posting. Served as legate to Decius Corvinus in his three year campaign, and as a provincial quaestor before that. He failed to return as one of the five rhones of the Collegium Militum in the elections last year, and was planning on running again in the elections this year, sticking to the cursus honorum within his college.

  What I did not learn, however, was anything of less than impeccable record. No whispers, no conniving, no dissatisfaction. Was Gaius Marcius so paranoid, that he was forever wary in every moment, even of the invisible people which move our society along? Likely it was a combination of a habit from his time with the fetiales and the small circle of the cabal. He would be a man used to rely on himself, and might not have his servants all around at all times. Well, at least not the ones I managed to bribe.

  Between tracking down the house slaves and buying them drinks, between learning of his favourite taverns and spending coins on the serving girls and taverners, walking the hot pavements of our fair city from one end to the next, most of the daylight hours were spent.

  The last of my investigations was in the Campus Civicus, close to the training fields of the army and cavalry. I followed a lead, chasing a tribune who served under Gaius Marcius in the last campaign. A young man on the start of his career, happy to get a drink from a grizzled centurion on leave. He was in the command tent with Gaetanicus a few times, privy to some discussions. I pretended to be about to join a legion under Gaetanicus as an evocatus, and wanted to know the gossip about the commanders.

  After sufficient drinks — I made his far less watered that mine — and a promise of dinner, he told me of events in the command tent during the campaign against the Tigumani. Corvinus was a hard-headed general of the old style, believing in the old war trifecta of fire, rape and slavery, preferably in that order. Gaetanicus was of the opinion that more can be accomplished with targeted strikes rather than pitched battles. They got into a few arguments about this.

  The campaign proceeded as they often do, with a series of skirmishes and minor sieges. When the legions eventually faced a considerable force of the Tigumani and were preparing to do battle on the plain the next morning. Gaetanicus maintained that the balance of power was not in our favour, the lay of the land was too muddy for our heavy infantry while enemy’s archers and light cavalry could manoeuvre around our legions with more ease. Corvinus was of the opinion that our men would be able to hold the line, and our auxiliary cavalry able to charge around and keep the enemy horse and archers occupied. Gaetanicus’ analysis that our cavalry would face a more difficult route due to the low hills and that the enemy could use their archers to pick them off before then, was met with a dismissal that they are barbarians and would never do anything short of charging blindly forward. Corvinus insisted that our legions would be able to just hold the line and march forward until they obliterated the enemy.

  Rather than see good men die in what he deemed a stupid strategy, Gaetanicus ventured that night without official sanction. Wearing no armour and his face painted black with charcoal, he managed to circle around and sneak into the enemy camp. He left their commander with a slit throat and an Egretian dagger buried in his ches
t, and took his crested helmet back.

  In the morning as our legions prepared for battle, the enemy mustered against them. Their commanders tried to hide the death of their general, and believed in their superior numbers and favourable conditions. Without permission, Gaetanicus rode out in front of the lines and yelled to the enemy to bring their general forward so that they could speak. When they obviously delayed, he produced the stolen helmet from his saddle bag and threw it at the front lines of the enemy. “Know that today you fight headless,” he yelled at them and rode back. What followed was a complete rout, and a major turning point in the campaign against the Tigumani.

  Corvinus, however, was less impressed. While he could not openly chastise Gaetanicus, he did withhold the due honours, and completely ignored this incident in his report to the Senate, taking full credits for the defeat for himself.

  My informant was under the impression that Gaetanicus did not put much value on it, used to the antics of inept generals. The men in the ranks knew what happened and understood the importance, and appreciated Gaetanicus significantly more than their official commander, though they were constrained in what they could do to show it. Gaetanicus officially maintained that the truth would reach the senate in time.

  Could this incident, and probably a few others like it, have been a driving force for Gaetanicus to join Zymaxis’ cabal? Turn him to the point of wishing a change in the social order of the city he was sworn to serve?

  * * *

  By the time I headed back home the sun was setting behind Vergu and the streets were cooling down. On my way from the Campus Civicus to the city I planned to stop for a bath and a shave at the Baths of Mauritius next to the Pons Orientalem. As I walked towards the cluster of buildings surrounding the baths I saw that a throng had gathered around there. I neared the crowd cautiously until I heard the sounds of a street-play in progress, and behind it I could see a cloth tent mounted with a pennant bearing the image of the sphinx. I was in luck — I found Mahatixa’s troupe again.

  I waited at the back of the crowd till the end of the performance, hoping that Mahatixa would not hold our last conversation against me. I caught glimpses of her dancing and acting as the troupe performed their skits. From what I saw she was as graceful as ever, her lithe brown body captivating the men watching.

  The cast finished their show to much applause, and started to collect coins from the audience. I dropped a couple of small bronze coins into the bowl of the actor who passed me. Once the crowd dispersed and the troupe were packing up, I made my way closer and touched Mahatixa on the arm.

  I was surprised by the response. She turned around and shoved me, yelling something in the guttural Mitzrani language. Harkhuf materialised swiftly between us before I even finished stumbling back, his teeth bared and muscular arms ready for a fight.

  “Oh, it’s not him,” said Mahatixa.

  “Him who?” I asked. Harkhuf remained between us, still glaring down at me.

  “That pest Gnaeus Drusus. Nothing good came of this whole affair. Yourself included.”

  “I had hoped I left you in better terms. But Drusus? I thought neither of you cared for the other?”

  “I certainly never did, though he seemed to have developed a taste. The toad was here a few days ago, tried to convince me to come with him. He began with a sweet talk about how he’d shower me with gifts, and when I refused he attempted to drag me in force. I gave him a black eye and the bastard tried to hit me back, but Harkhuf here had learnt his lesson since you tricked me and was quick to scare him away. One shove from him, and the little cunnus ran like a coward with a dirty loincloth.”

  “Now what would Drusus want with you?” I mused aloud.

  “I do not know and I do not care,” Mahatixa replied. “Having Caeso infatuated with me was a novel experience, and I enjoyed the attentions of one far above me in station. He had a kind heart, that of a poet. We spent many hours walking and talking, looking out to the sea from his favourite secluded spot on the Insula Laridae. He knew this small cave in the cliffs of the isle, not normally visible when standing at the base of the Pharos. We made love there…” She paused, then shook herself. “This is all gone now, and the world has kindly reminded me of the realities of station and fortune. Drusus was a toad, and I care not what he wanted. And you are no better. I am done with the lot of you.”

  She turned away from me, and Harkhuf stepped to stand in front of me with arms clasped across his chest and a dangerous look in his eyes. I smiled up at him and departed quickly.

  Chapter XXIII

  The next day I set out across town again. A messenger had delivered an invitation yesterday from Typheus to meet Corpio at his mansion on the Septentrionali, to discuss the information he found out for me about the members of the cabal.

  This being four days before the Ides of Maius, the weather was getting hot. The first scorching winds out of the south made their way to our fair city, drying everything in their path. The side effect of the weather was that I could no longer wear long-sleeved tunics and strap my dagger to my left forearm as I liked, and had instead to hide it inside my tunic, attached to a loop made especially for it.

  I walked down the hill and passed behind the Forum Bovarium, already alive with the bleating and lowing of animals, the cries of haggling and smells of freshly butchered meat. I joined the Via Recta at the official wharves and walked up that straight avenue to the Forum. The Forum was already busy, men about their business seeking the bankers and attorneys across the many imposing porticos, temples and buildings that surround the open spaces. I made my way to the Vicus Caprificus and started the climb up toward the northern cliffs. At the intersection with the Via Caeca I stopped for a drink of water, refreshed myself at the fountain with the statue of Nikoleon slaying the Gorgon. The water was fresh and cool, fed directly from the Aqua Sextiae that ran above me on its tiered arches. I dropped a small coin to a beggar sitting beside the crossroads shrine, and continued up to the Septentrionali towards the house of Corpio.

  By the time I reached my destination, most of Corpio’s clients had already been dealt with, their patron dispensing his advice, promises or money and delegating tasks in return. When his atrium finally cleared of the last of his clients, Typheus admitted me to Corpio’s study.

  “This matter has been dragging,” said Corpio as I seated myself. “I never expected it to take this long. Are you sure about this cabal of yours? Do you really think my little Caeso was involved with them?”

  “You remember the heart of cold ruby I extracted from his chest,” I reminded him, and saw him shift uncomfortably in his chair. “The best information I have to date points to this cabal, whose members are attempting to overthrow the lawful government of Egretia. Using forbidden ceremonies would no doubt give them the power to achieve their aims. I do believe that your son fell victim to such a ceremony, albeit botched and with disastrous results.”

  “Well, I do not know whether to hope you are right or wrong on this, but I do wish this matter to be laid to rest already. Quietly.” He paused, and then waved at his secretary. “Typheus, would you summarise what we found about the names Felix gave us?”

  Typheus cleared his throat and started. “First the incantator Fufidius. The Fufidii are a rural family from the town of Ausculum on the Erratus. Two of their members reside in Egretia and have been trained as incantatores. The first is Fufidius Calvus–”

  “Who is not our man,” I interrupted.

  Typheus cast a quick glance at me, then continued reading from his notes. “The second is Fufidius Verres. He completed his studies some thirty years ago, tried specialising in magia inanitas but ended up as an elementor. Served as a minor officius at the Collegium, tried to get elected a quaestor a couple of times and failed. Apparently he was not well liked by his superiors or colleagues. Has been making his living in the city, hiring out for odd jobs or as tutor to younger aspirants to the Collegium.” Typheus looked up at me.

  “I managed to track him down,
hence I know he is definitely the man I saw at the cabal. Your information matches what I have learnt about him. Magia inanitas you say… Well, those who manage to understand it are never well in the head afterwards. He is either inept or unbalanced, and my impression is of the former. Please continue.”

  “Next is Gaius Marcius. Based on your assessment of the person’s age and the military background, and considering who was present in the city at the time, we believe this to be Gaius Marcius Gaetanicus.” I nodded. “Son of Gaius Marcius Gaetanicus who served as Primus Rhonus of the Collegium Militum fifteen years ago, great grandson of the famous Gaetanicus. His branch of the Marcii goes back to the founding of Egretia, with several consuls and rhones. He was up for election for post of Rhone of Soldiers last year, but failed. It seems like his failure is due to Corvinus, who holds a grudge over something that happened during their campaigns. He omitted him from official reports, and has been lobbying against Gaetanicus. His official complaint appears to be that Gaetanicus disobeyed orders, and had been sabotaging his command. He circulated rumours about some siege of a Tigumani fort, where Gaetanicus disobeyed direct orders and risked lives of the legion’s incantatores in what Corvinus called a “mad scheme” to open up the city. Nothing provable of course, and Corvinus knows better than to try and take Gaetanicus to court. The prevalent opinion in the senate is that Decius Corvinus is simply somewhere between jealous and incompetent, yet as a proconsul he had enough clout and clients to ensure Gaius Marcius will not be elected. There is talk of Gaetanicus running again in a year or two, with some rumours that he might run for praetor in the Senate instead of for rhone within the Collegium.”