‘The person sent here by the Senate was given the task of enquiring into the disturbances. This could easily be stretched to include the causes.’
‘Those are plain enough,’ said Hypolitas coldly.
‘This man is that rare creature, someone entirely free of personal avarice. He is also a man with the power to change things. On top of that he has the power to protect you.’ Cholon began to speak quickly, since he had reached the nub of his proposal. ‘Steps will be taken, in the Senate, to limit the excesses of the landowners, so the slaves, when they return, will come under the protection of the Roman state. You and the other leaders will be freed, given pensions, and allowed to live out your days in comfort.’
‘You’re asking me to betray my army?’
‘Getting them killed or crucified would be the ultimate betrayal. I mean no threat, Hypolitas, but there will be no more emissaries after me, only legions.’
The silence that followed lasted for a full minute. Hypolitas held his visitor’s gaze, as if by doing so he would somehow establish the truth of what he said. Finally he spoke. ‘I could have you torn apart.’
Cholon stood up, then gave a small bow. ‘So you can, King Hypolitas.’
In the hothouse atmosphere of this revolt, suspicion was natural; the first time Gadoric rode out alone his departure caused little comment, but as it became a regular occurrence, Pentheus, particularly, was afire to know where the Celt went on these solitary trips, leaving at dawn and returning before the gates closed at night. The answer, when he followed him, afforded the man no pleasure at all. As soon as the Celt returned he was called to face Hypolitas, who without confiding that he already knew, asked him gently where he had been. Gadoric made no attempt at concealment, openly admitting that he had ridden into the hills for a rendezvous with Aquila.
‘The boy represents no threat to us.’
‘Then why is he there?’ demanded Hypolitas, who disagreed, even if he was not prepared to say why.
Gadoric shrugged, reluctant to explain his conclusions: that he was the only living person to whom Aquila now had an attachment. He had been as surprised as Pentheus and Hypolitas were now when the message from his young friend first arrived. They had met and embraced, talked and reminisced. Advised to get away the boy had refused, unless they did so together. Explaining why such a thing was impossible, Gadoric had the impression that Aquila harboured some fanciful notion of rescuing him when the legions finally arrived. None of this would make any sense to these two, so it was better left unsaid.
‘You haven’t answered Hypolitas’s question,’ said Pentheus coldly.
‘I don’t think he knows where to go.’
Hypolitas had the blank look of the truly innocent on his face as he spoke again. ‘He can rejoin us if he wishes.’
Gadoric was not fooled: Pentheus hated Aquila, as well as fearing retribution for the death of Flaccus, and Hypolitas did not trust him. The young Roman’s life would not be worth a bent denarius if he came within these walls, not that any invitation would attract him. Aquila was scathing about the revolt and its leader, just as the high office Pentheus now held enraged him. Anyway, Gadoric enjoyed the clandestine meetings as much as his friend. They gave him a chance to talk freely, to air his doubts about the direction in which the whole enterprise was headed.
‘He feels that, as a Roman, he cannot kill his own kind.’
‘We should never have trusted him in the first place,’ growled Pentheus.
Hypolitas threw up his hands in a gesture of futility. ‘Well, there’s nothing more to be done. Thank you for being so open, Gadoric. I must say, when Pentheus first mentioned your little trips, I was worried.’
‘You have no need to worry.’
The hands went up again, this time in exasperation. ‘What if anything happened to you? What would I do?’
‘You didn’t forbid him another meeting,’ Pentheus complained, as Gadoric disappeared.
‘No, Pentheus, I didn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘What would you think his reaction would be, if I told him that there is a chance of a settlement with the Romans?’
Pentheus had become practised at being this man’s courtier. He also knew of Cholon’s visit, without having the least idea of its purpose. But he was clever enough to make an immediate connection so he did not bat an eyelid and his voice showed no trace of emotion. ‘What kind of settlement?’
‘One that I could accept. Let us say that our position, as leaders, would be recognised. That we, at least, would be spared a return to servitude.’
‘Gadoric would tell you to jump off the walls.’
Hypolitas smiled grimly. ‘I wonder if that is good advice. I think you hate him.’
‘Do I?’ asked Pentheus guardedly.
‘You are a man who hates easily, Pentheus.’ The Palmyran laughed suddenly. ‘But then so am I. You asked why I didn’t forbid him to go and see his Roman.’
‘Yes.’
‘When I asked him where he went, he told me, right away. Gadoric does not yet know that he was followed. Let us, for the sake of our future, keep it that way.’
‘Nothing would please me more than the sight of Aquila’s body hanging by his feet,’ said Pentheus.
‘Then perhaps we can arrange for you to have it.’ Hypolitas looked at his fingernails, as if the words that followed were of no account. ‘Should that be possible, you would please me greatly by fetching back that gold eagle that hangs round his neck.’
Pentheus emitted that cackle, which made anyone who heard it wonder if he was mad. ‘I shall bring you his head and his neck, with that charm still on it.’
The senior priests from the Temple of Diana entered and Hypolitas acknowledged them, before turning back to Pentheus. ‘Forgive me. I have been invited to worship with these men. It would be impious to decline.’
The other man said nothing, but in light of the meeting with Cholon he could guess what was taking place.
‘There is one of the leaders who Hypolitas says will never agree. The others will do as he tells them.’
‘He is?’ asked Lucius.
‘The man who commands the army, a Celt by the name of Gadoric. Apparently, he’s as venal as the rest but he hates Rome too much to ever agree to a truce.’
‘Then Hypolitas must be rid of him.’
‘He would rather we did that,’ replied Cholon. ‘He cannot be seen killing his own when he is promising them all a better life.’
Lucius nodded. ‘That is fitting. Roman blood has been shed. It will quieten some of those who wish to protest if we take some revenge. The other terms?’
‘A show of force, especially ships.’
‘Titus and my son are arranging that.’
‘He intends to be acclaimed and wishes to be treated with all the honours due to a client king.’
‘The other leaders?’
‘The future King Hypolitas seemed to care little for them. He spent most of his time telling me what kind of villa he required, how many servants and the size of his annual stipend, which is substantial.’
Lucius smiled, his thin face lighting up. ‘The landowners can pay it and they can afford to, especially people like Cassius Barbinus. Perhaps it will still his tongue and make him treat his slaves properly.’
‘They’ll squeal, Lucius Falerius. Their income will be dented already by the reforms you propose to introduce.’
The other man’s face was wreathed in smiles, which made more prominent his already well-defined bones. ‘Let them squeal, Cholon. That is a spectacle I will certainly enjoy.’
Marcellus’s only experience of the sea had been the short crossing from Italy to Sicily on a cargo ship, but this was different. He and Titus, at the head of a makeshift fleet, having received a bare set of instructions from his
