Brotherhood.’
Sempronius pursed his lips, pulled his broad shoulders back and glared at Magnus with cold, piercing, sapphire-blue eyes; the jaw muscles beneath the tight flesh of his cheeks twitched rapidly. His counsellor, equally young and equally handsome but dark-haired, leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Sempronius nodded, never once taking his eyes off Magnus.
‘I wish to settle this issue now,’ Magnus continued, ‘in front of witnesses, in order to avoid it escalating into a war. None of us here would wish to see that, as we all know from past experience just how damaging for business that can be.’
Sempronius looked down at his left arm, held rigid across his stomach, supporting the folds of his toga, and stared at it for a few moments as if examining in fine detail the blond hairs on the back of his hand. His eyes suddenly flicked back up to Magnus. ‘We had nothing to do with the raid on the whore-boy house.’
‘I am not saying that you did; yet you know about it.’
‘I know of it,’ Sempronius corrected, ‘but not much about it. As I said: it was not done by us.’
‘No, but it was done by people from your area; Albanian clients of yours, who you would be honour-bound to avenge if we exacted the correct price for their actions.’
‘And what would you consider that price to be?’ Sempronius asked slowly, one side of his face curled up in a sneer.
‘Death. And not a quick one.’
Sempronius smiled mirthlessly. ‘That would be grievous mistake.’
‘No Brother, that would be justice, but I’m not naive enough to think that we both have the same sense of justice so, in order to maintain the peace between us, I offer this compromise.’ Magnus put two fingers in his mouth a whistled shrilly. A couple of his lads led two small figures out of one of the entrance tunnels in the rows of seating; knives were held across their throats.
Sempronius regarded them for a few moments and then shrugged. ‘More whore-boys; what are they to me?’
‘They’re nothing to you, but they’re worth quite a bit to their Albanian owners — in the condition that they’re in at the moment, that is. Unfortunately their condition is worsening.’ Magnus raised a hand and brought it down quickly. A knife flashed golden in the evening sun; there was a screech and blood started to flow down the face of one of the boys. ‘That was just a small cut across the top of his forehead; nothing too disfiguring so it won’t reduce his value that much.’
‘What do you want?’
‘The two boys that your Albanian friends took from my client. If they are returned tonight, unharmed, then I will return those two with their fingers, tongues and cocks still in place and without sharp knives rammed up their arses. In other words, in perfect working order to carry on their trade. My client will also forgo his revenge for the two other boys that were cut up in the attack and that will be an end to the matter.’
‘And if they’re not returned tonight?’
‘It will be their tongues first, then we’ll have our vengeance on the Albanians and all our businesses will suffer as we fight out a blood-feud.’
‘That can’t be allowed to happen, Sempronius,’ the Patronus to Magnus’ left stated. ‘My area, the North Viminal, is right between you two, we would suffer badly. Magnus’ deal is fair and you should accept it; if not and you take us to war, then we will be against you.’
There were murmurs of agreement from the other three Crossroads leaders.
Magnus kept his expression neutral but smiled inwardly as anger briefly flashed across Sempronius’ face; he would have to back down and lose face or find himself ranged against all of the Brotherhoods on the Viminal and Quirinal.
‘Give him something to take away from the meeting as a sop,’ Servius whispered into Magnus’ ear. ‘Otherwise his pride may prevent him from accepting.’
Magnus nodded. ‘To show our goodwill, Sempronius, I’ll give you one of the boys to take with you now, on account as it were.’
Sempronius turned to his counsellor who inclined his head indicating his agreement. ‘Very well, Magnus, I’ll take the boy. The Albanian’s will return the two that they’ve got this evening and pick up the second one then. After that we’re square, yes?’
‘Square, Sempronius, and these brothers are our witnesses. Tell your Albanians to have the boys at my tavern by midnight, I’ll guarantee their safe conduct. After that they’re to keep out of my area if they value their lives.’
It was dark by the time Magnus and his comrades got back to the Crossroads; the tavern was filling up and business was brisk.
‘Take him into the back, clean him up and keep watch over him, Cassandros,’ Magnus ordered one of the two brothers accompanying the visibly terrified remaining whore-boy. Dried blood matted his hair and covered his face.
‘A pleasure Magnus,’ Cassandros replied with a grin.
‘And keep your filthy Greek hands off him, and any other part of your body for that matter: he’s not to be interfered with.’
Looking disappointed, Cassandros led his charge off as Magnus and Servius took a corner table. A jug of wine and two cups were quickly set before them by a plump, grey-haired woman.
‘Business looks good this evening, Jovita,’ Magnus commented as she filled his cup.
Jovita indicated with her head to the far corner where Aquilina was perched on the lap of a busy-handed freedman. ‘That new one who started today seems to be very popular; seems to be pulling a crowd. That’s number six so far.’
‘Busy girl,’ Servius commented, to the old woman’s back.
Magnus looked away from the girl, taking a slug of wine. ‘So Brother, they seemed to believe us.’
‘Yes. So now we wait.’
‘Just a few days, let things settle.’
‘Have you worked out how we’re going to do it?’
‘Almost, there’re a couple of things that I ain’t sure of yet but I’ll go and see an old comrade from the Cohort discretely tomorrow; he’ll be able to help me.’
Servius looked over Magnus’ shoulder. ‘Not another whore-boy?’
Magnus turned to see a beautiful youth in his early teens swathed in a hooded cloak and sighed. ‘Does he want to see me Arminius?’
‘Yes, master, can you come at once?’ the youth replied with a guttural Germanic accent, pulling back his hood to reveal luxuriant, flaxen hair.
Magnus nodded and downed his wine. ‘Deal with the exchange if I’m not back when the Albanians arrive, Brother.’ He got to his feet and, indicating to Marius and Sextus that they should follow him, stepped out into the night after the young German.
‘MAGNUS, MY FRIEND, thank you for coming so quickly,’ Gaius Vespasius Pollo boomed, turning his huge bulk in his chair as Magnus and his companions were shown into the atrium by a very decrepit and ancient doorkeeper. ‘Arminius, take Magnus’ friends to the kitchen and find them some refreshment.’
‘Good evening, Senator,’ Magnus replied as his erstwhile guide led Marius and Sextus from the room.
‘Come and sit down, it’s a chill night.’ Gaius indicated with a full wine-cup to a chair across the table from him, in front of a blazing log fire, set in the hearth.
‘How can I be of assistance at this time of night?’ Magnus asked sitting and adjusting his toga.
Gaius handed him the cup. ‘Yes indeed, not really the business time of day is it?’
‘It is for my sort of business.’ Magnus took a long draught of wine, ignoring Gaius’ disapproving frown at the rough treatment of such a fine vintage. ‘That’s a nice drop of wine that is, sir.’
‘I’m glad that you appreciate it.’ Gaius reluctantly topped up Magnus’ proffered cup. ‘What do you know about the Lady Antonia?’
Magnus shifted uneasily in his chair and took another slug of wine. ‘She’s the Emperor’s sister-in-law, grandmother to the children of the late Germanicus and a very formidable woman. I believe that you are in her favour.’
