“You wrote about that?” Alerio asked in alarm. “Having a Senator of the Republic angry at you could prove fatal.”
“Oh, I didn’t write it,” Thomasious explained as he held up a skin of excellent vino and a wrapper of pungent cheese. “The Clay Ear wrote it. Oh, and he also wrote about the attack on Senator Faunus being an organized assassination. That caused yesterday’s visit from the city guard.”
“Aren’t you pushing the boundaries?” Alerio questioned. “A Senator has a lot of power at his disposal. As I just learned, Gabrielus and three squads of northerners are training with the city guard. Ventus could easily send a trained unit after you if he ever learns the truth.”
“Senator Ventus has a private army of warriors being trained in the city?” Thomasious reflected softly as if thinking out loud. “I wonder what game the Senator is playing?”
“I don’t know and unfortunately, my movements around the city are restricted,” Alerio explained. “I was recognized by Corporal Daedalus.”
“Why is that a problem?” Thomasious inquired as he pulled out a long-wrapped item from the package. “Ah, wild boar sausage spiced with eastern herbs. Excellent.”
“There’s a price on my head by the Spilled Blood,” confessed Alerio. “Daedalus knows about the seven Republic gold reward and my name. It’s why I thought the city guardsmen were looking for me.”
“You’ve managed to tangle with the Fireguard Brigade and the Cruor and you’ve only been in the city a few days,” Thomasious exclaimed. “For a young Legion Decanus, you do enjoy mixing it up with dangerous people.”
“Not intentionally, Master Harricus,” Alerio assured him. “I’ll just pack and leave so you don’t get into more trouble. Wait, what about Zacchaeus? His time is up.”
“I had the old Cloth Seller send the Fireguard Brigade a double payment with a note stating the mercenary was hired by a broker,” explained Thomasious. “Zacchaeus assured the Brigade he was diligently seeking to contact the broker to find out the transit mercenary’s name. Not to be indelicate, but where have you been.”
“I met some new friends,” Alerio replied while pulling up the tunic and peeling down the bandage. “We had a disagreement.”
Thomasious leaned in and studied the neat line of stitches. From what he could see, the medical attention had been superior to most civilian doctors. In the Republic, only Legion surgeons were capable of sewing a cut with that much precision.
“I see you found a Legion doctor to treat you,” Thomasious surmised. “I was just sitting down to breakfast when the guardsmen arrived. Care to join me for a light repast?”
“Master Harricus, it would be a pleasure to dine with you,” Alerio replied. “But could I skip the light part and get two breakfasts?”
“Hungry, are you?” Thomasious asked.
“Put it this way,” explained Alerio. “If you have a sacrificial bull out back, I’ll gladly do the ritual killing, butcher it myself, and eat the entire bull.”
“Let me talk to the cook,” Thomasious advised. “I believe we can accommodate a starving Legionary and save the bull for a proper ceremony.”
Chapter 30 - Persuasive, if Misleading Speech
Alerio slept through the day and didn’t awaken until early the next morning. His side was painfully stiff and he favored it until he ran into Erebus on the way to the bathhouse. Seeing the servant in the lantern light, Alerio straightened up trying to hide the wound.
“Good morning sir,” the northerner said in greeting. “I’m afraid the fires have yet to be stoked.”
“Not a problem Erebus,” Alerio replied. “I’m just going to clean up. No time for a bath.”
He didn’t want to tell the servant about the wound. Yet, something did occur to him.
“You’re from the north,” ventured Alerio. “What do you know about Gabrielus, Senator Ventus’ bodyguard?”
“I’m from the northeast,” Erebus corrected and added while spitting on the ground. “Gabrielus, the pig, is the younger son of a northern King. My people are thinkers, farmers, and hunters. Gabrielus’ tribe are wild boars to be slaughtered on sight.”
“Well, that isn’t exactly what I was asking,” Alerio explained. “What do you know about Gabrielus’ dealings in the city?”
“He is an Insubri Prince. Every northern tribesman in the city owes allegiance to him,” Erebus reported. “And, he makes a point to enforce their loyalty.”
“How does he do that in the Capital city?” inquired Alerio.
“Late night visits from loyalists,” explained Erebus. “Anyone seeking to separate from Gabrielus gets a beating to remind them of his royal lineage. Gabrielus, the slime, hides behind his Senator for protection so the city guard ignores the beatings.”
“Thank you for the information,” Alerio said as he stated to walk away. “I’m going to clean up.”
“I’ll bring you a mug of strong wine,” Erebus stated.
“Why? I’m only doing a quick wash,” Alerio remained the servant.
“The wine is for your pain,” explained Erebus. “I served with the northern Legion. I recognize when a Legionary is favoring an injury, Lance Corporal.”
The sun had yet to rise when Alerio walked into the great room. Instead of having time alone to think, he found Thomasious sitting with four scrolls. One, a large scroll for gossip stories, the other three were long chain scrolls.
“Good morning, Sisera,” Thomasious said as the innkeeper rinsed the nub of a pen in a mug of water. “You look healthier than yesterday morning.”
“Gabrielus has loyal subjects in the town,” blurted out the Legionary. “It’s as if units of northern warriors were housed in the city.”
“I know. But that’s not something polite people admit,” stated Thomasious. “Why do you think it’s important?”
“Three squads of northern troops trained and protected by the city guard,” Alerio said listing his concerns. “Under the command of Gabrielus, a northern Prince, and financed by a Senator of the Republic. None of these troubles you?”
“If you put it like that, yes, it does paint a troubling picture,” admitted Thomasious. “But, this is the Capital of the Republic. We have Legions nearby. If Gabrielus and his merry band revolt, they’ll be up on crosses before the next sunrise. We’ve experienced slave revolts before and they never succeed.”
Alerio pulled out a chair and sat down slowly to protect the wound. Everything Thomasious said made sense.
“What’s with the scrolls first thing in the morning?” asked Alerio. “I thought the Clay Ear waited until the afternoon to wield his mighty pen.”
“Another Senator died last night. This one at home and in his bed,” Thomasious reported. “It seems to be a robbery gone wrong. In light of two Senators dying within a week, the Senate is calling for a special session. I’m preparing my scrolls early with background. This morning, Senator Ventus is giving a speech to the public before going into the session. I can fill in the details later.”
“Was the dead Senator pro Ventus or against the Senator?” asked Alerio.
“As it happens, Senator Ferox had a long and storied history of debating against Ventus,” Thomasious replied while making a face as if his stomach had soured. “With Ferox dead, Consul Marcus Regulus in the west and Consul Julius Libo in the east, Ventus is one of the senior Senators in the city. In fact, after the President of the Senate, he is second in charge of the Republic. At least until one of the Consuls returns.”
“He is a dangerous man,” offered Alerio.
“The Republic has survived for almost two hundred and fifty years,” Thomasious assured him. “We tossed out the King and installed a Republic. I can’t see one man harming us after all that time.”
“I’d like to hear the speech,” admitted Alerio. “But you know my situation. Are you going?”
“No, I’ve got a business to run,” Thomasious said. “However, the Clay Ear will have lots of little ears around to gather the pertinent facts. It’
ll be a good show. Ventus will no doubt feed the crowd. It assures a large turnout and puts citizens on his side.”
“I’ve never seen a Senator give a speech,” Alerio said wishfully. “It must be amazing.”
“Maybe there is a way for you to see it,” Thomasious counseled. “Let’s go see Erebus.”
***
The woman in the crowd moved four urgent steps away from the cloaked and hooded stockyard worker. Cow and horse merda, and gods only knew what else, clung to the hem of his cloak. She wasn’t the first or the last to move away from the stink rolling off the man’s clothing.
Thankfully, Alerio’s nose had grown accustomed to the aroma. By the time Erebus finished shoveling fresh manure and having a couple of horses empty their bladders on the cloak, Alerio’s sense of smell deserted him.
After some jostling between groups, he found himself standing with other stockyard workers and men from the tanner’s compound. If anything, the dead skin and urine smell from the tanners was worse than the stockyard men, but only by a little. The happy group of nose blind workers had an empty ring around them as citizens with less aromatic employment gave them a wide berth.
There was almost trouble when the team passing out free bread avoided the offensive smelling group. Two of the big stockyard men strutted over and secured enough loaves for everyone. The problem was averted and the crowd chewed idly while waiting for the Senator to make his appearance.
High overhead, the roof of the Capital building gave the impression of floating in the sky. It seemed as if the roof would drift away with the clouds, if not for the eight soaring columns. As if decreed by the fates, the marble columns widened at the base anchoring them to the marble porch. A section at the center of the pouch bowed out creating a stand for a speaker. Eight steps, on either side of the stand, descended from the porch and the Capital building to where the crowd chewed and waited.
Alerio broke off pieces of his loaf. He found it adequate if he ignored the rough ground grain and the lack of salt in the bread. Apparently, Ventus had saved a few coins by buying cheap. Of course, he had a multitude to feed so Alerio hadn’t expected bread as good as his mother made.
A trumpet blared and the crowd of citizens shifted in anticipation. When it blew again a cheer went up from the throng. A tall, thin man strutted out from the building, crossed to the porch to the round jutting area, and held up his arms for silence.
“Citizens of the Republic, good morning to you,” the man announced in a booming voice. “May I present a fellow citizen, a man of the people despite his wealth and exulted position. A hard working, family man, a man who everyday fights for the people in the Senate of the Republic. A man who cares about you and about the future of our great Republic. Citizens, I present to you, Senator Ventus.”
The crowd screamed unintelligently at first but soon, the cheering solidified into a chant, “Ventus. Ventus. Ventus...”
As the chant reached a fevered pitch, Gabrielus, the Senator’s bodyguard marched out of the building and onto the porch. He stopped and scanned the crowd. Surprisingly, Gabrielus was dressed in Legion ceremonial armor with a Tribune’s insignia over his shoulder.
Right behind the bodyguard, the Senator strutted out of the building. He didn’t go directly to the speaker’s stand. Ventus pranced to one end of the porch, waved and pointed as if acknowledging friends in the crowd before moving to the far side. There he repeated the antics of a popular politician. Before the cheering died down, the Senator swaggered to the speaker’s stand.
“My fellow citizens. Did you enjoy the bread?” he asked and waited for the cheering to resume and fade. “Citizens of this great, no citizens of our great Republic, should have bread every day.”
The cheering started again. He’s getting a lot of mileage out of the bread thought Alerio. In Legion training, the instructors had repeated threats and praise in equal parts. After a few weeks, the more astute Recruits noticed the pattern. For the rest of their lives, it was hard to verbally manipulate them with insincere words and repeated phrases. Most of this crowd hadn’t been through Legion training.
“I speak with you today of a tragic lose. My beloved colleague, Senator Ferox, was assassinated last night,” Ventus announced. He paused to let the news sink in and for the murmuring to cease. Continuing, he stated. “Coming soon after the assassination of our beloved Senator Faunus, who was knifed down in the streets of this very city. Along with his wife, Senator Faunus fell to evil and vile, yet well-trained blades. Believe me, when I promise the Senate of the Republic will uncover the butchers and bring them to justice. But, the murders were more than just the killings of our public servants. Hear me on this.”
The crowd stilled waiting for Ventus to announce more salacious language. This was entertainment, drama of the highest order, and everyone wanted to hear so they could tell the story to their friends later.
“Our Republic is under attack,” Ventus shouted. “Under attack, I say. Forces of darkness are moving across our city, no, across our Republic. We in the Senate have been charged to do everything necessary to protect our citizens. And we will do everything necessary to protect our people and the Republic.”
Fists were raised in the air. The crowd cheered encouragement and enthusiasm for their Senator. He promised to pursue justice in the Senate and the people appreciated his dedication. In the midst of all the adoration, Alerio wondered why the two dead Senators had been with the party opposing Ventus.
“A festival honoring Janus is scheduled to start tomorrow,” the Senator explained. From the downward tone of the crowd, it was easy to see cancelling the popular event would disappoint the citizens.
“I struggled mightily, in the face of my two dead brothers, with whether to support the festival or not,” Ventus explained. “Hence, I asked the gods. Early this morning, I sacrificed a lamb to my family’s household god. After the slaughter, I read the entrails.”
The crowd, now silent, was bent forward to hear the will of the gods from the Senator. Alerio pondered the sacrifice of a lamb. At his father’s farm, they sacrificed strong working animals or beasts with status. Gentle lambs were only slaughtered when the family was celebrating and wanted something special for dinner.
“After my readings, I can tell you, citizens of the Republic,” Ventus announced. “I am marching into the Senate and with the sweat of my brow and the strength of my right arm, I will fight for the celebration of Janus. We will honor the god and you will have your festival. I swear it.”
Ventus spun around quickly, set his shoulders, and march into the Capital building as if he were going into battle. Gabrielus, in his ornate armor, trailed behind the Senator.
Emotionally it was a good play. Substance wise, the speech was empty of facts. Alerio followed a group of men to the stockyards. As they walked, the conversation was mostly about the festival and the coin they would make from selling sacrificial animals. Some spoke of the forces of darkness in the city. No one knew what they were, but those speaking about the darkness agreed something had to be done.
Alerio presented a note from Thomasious to a stockyard man and left the area leading two goats. It was his cover; a stockyard worker delivering a purchase to the Chronicles Humanum Inn.
Chapter 31 - Little Clay Ears
“And what did the good Senator have to say?” Thomasious inquired. “What did you learn?”
They were standing in a stable. Alerio held up a hand for the innkeeper to wait while he shrugged off the cloak. Erebus took the cloak and marched the smelly garment to a tub of boiling water.
“Senator Ventus has a taste for lamb,” Alerio related. “And he is going to fight to keep the festival for Janus on schedule. Also, there’s a dark force spreading across the city. And he is going to do what every is necessary to fight it.”
“All political speak with no substance,” Thomasious said summarizing up the report. “I didn’t expect much else.”
“Oh, one curious fact,” added Alerio. “Gabrielus was dre
ssed in armor with the rank of Tribune. How could he have rank, he’s not a citizen of the Republic?”
“If Ventus bought him a commission in the city guard,” responded Thomasious. “He could wear it within the confines of the city limits. Outside, any Legion officer could charge him with subversion or being a spy.”
“What have your little clay ears said about the speech?” asked Alerio.
“Nothing yet,” replied Thomasious. “I have them situated along the routes Senators take to their homes. Maybe a couple will talk out loud after the Senate session. Right now, I have a request for you.”
“Master Harricus, what can I do for you?” Alerio asked.
“Go to the bathhouse and wash,” instructed Thomasious. “Because lad, you stink.”
Alerio, because the city guard had come by twice asking for the Clay Ear, was eating lunch in a storage room off the hallway. He watched while Thomasious’ urchins passed the door on their way to report to the innkeeper. After delivering their tidbits of information, they passed the door again on their way to the cook shed for a meal.
Sounds drifted in from the great room where customers dined and drank. Between visits from the little clay ears, Thomasious stood behind the marble counter drawing mugs of ale and wine.
“Is Lance Corporal Sisera staying here?” asked a familiar voice.
“Optio Chlotharius. Good to see you again,” Thomasious replied in greeting. “Here have a mug of vino. It’s on the house. You know, the young man stopped in but said he had other accommodations. Probably with a lass, you know how those young Legionaries are.”
“Thanks, Thomasious,” the Sergeant of Legionaries replied. “I haven’t time for more than one. We’ve been ordered to sail. I’m going through the city rounding up my lads. I just stopped in to say hello before we row out.”
“Your ship is doing the eastern patrol,” suggested Thomasious. “Shouldn’t you be in port for a couple of weeks after the last cruise?”
“That’s the usual schedule,” the ship’s Optio confirmed. “From what I hear, someone floated the idea that it would have taken fifteen trained men to kill Senator Faunus and his Legionary bodyguards. Seeing as the only trained units nearby are Legionaries, the Senate has ordered all military units to leave the city.”
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