I sighed, disappointed despite it beingexpected that he would have that reaction. Now there was no way Icould avoid getting involved.
"All right," I grumbled. "Let me gotalk to this idiot and try to convince him what a bad idea thisis."
"I just hope you have better luck than wedid," Flaminius told me as I pushed open the flap.
On my walk over to the Praetorium, Idecided that instead of confronting Primus immediately, I wouldmake one last-ditch attempt to avoid what I was sure would be ahorrible and ultimately futile scene. Instead, I would talk toMasala, hoping that his influence with Primus had not been fatallyharmed by his deception concerning Cleitos. Of this, I was somewhatoptimistic, counting on the presence of those wagons that had beenbrought into the camp and were next to the Praetorium underheavy guard of a full Century at all times. Considering thatPrimus' goal had been monetary from the very beginning, and hewould shortly be in possession of the Serdi money, bringing himvery close to the ten talents he had originally tried to extractfrom the Serdi, I thought that with Masala's help we would be ableto convince, or coerce, the Praetor into fulfilling the originalstated goal of this campaign. That optimism lasted less than thetime it took for me to talk to Masala, who had managed to escapethe clutches of Primus long enough to go find his morning meal. Ifound him outside the Praetorium, chatting to Lucullus, whoeyed me curiously when I asked to speak to the other Tribune inprivate. Nevertheless, he made no objection and went wandering offto do whatever Tribunes do when they are not underfoot.
"I suppose you're here about theconversation Macrinus and Flaminius had with the Praetor thismorning," Masala said without preamble.
"Yes." I did not see any point in denyingit. "And I heard what Primus' answer was as well. I hope you knowwhat a really, really bad answer it was."
Masala heaved a sigh, looking off in thedistance as he considered his answer.
"I do," he finally acknowledged. "But I alsoknow that he's not changing his mind."
"How do you know that?" I demanded.
"Because I just spent the last third of awatch trying," Masala replied, dashing my hopes before they hadever really gotten off the ground. "But he's adamant. He's hadenough of all this 'drudgery' as he puts it. He just wants to gohome now and spend his money."
"How much of that money does he plan onsharing with the army, then?" I asked Masala, who shot me a look ofexasperated amusement, giving me the answer before he opened hismouth.
"What do you think?" he answered, and Ifound it hard to restrain my anger, knowing that Masala was not atfault.
"Then he better be prepared to be torn topieces by an angry army," I snapped.
"Believe me, I've told him that. He doesn'tbelieve me," Masala insisted.
Thinking for a moment, I realized that nomatter how slim my chances, I had to try to change Primus' mind. Ihad no desire to end my career with the stain of a mutinous army onmy record, no matter what the provocation.
"Follow me," I told Masala curtly.
For a moment, I thought he would refuse, butseeing my face, he sighed again and relented, trailing me into thePraetorium. Waiting for my eyes to adjust to the gloom, Itook the time to gather my thoughts for the coming trial. Seeingthat Primus was not in the outer area, I thought that was just aswell, knowing that this was a conversation that was extremelylikely to become very contentious, to say the least. Crossing theopen space, I stopped at the leather flap that marked the entranceto Primus' office, and I will admit that I gave that piece ofleather quite a beating as I slapped it. I was rewarded by thesound of an alarmed squawk on the other side, followed by a noisethat made me think Primus was scrambling to his feet fromsomewhere. Was he lying down already? I wondered.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Camp Prefect Pullus, Praetor, requestingentrance."
"Denied." Primus irritation was clear tohear even through the leather.
"Well, so much for that," Masala muttered,turning to walk away.
I pushed through the flap, prompting a gaspfrom Masala and an astonished look from Primus, who was indeedlying on his couch. That in itself was not all that unusual.Neither, I suppose, was what was being done to him, although Isuspect that most men in his position, in command of an army, hadthe good sense to confine their activities to off-duty hours. Theslave who had been servicing him, as startled as his master,immediately leapt out of the way, giving me a view of Primus' nakedbody, something that neither of us wanted.
"What are you doing?" Primus shrieked, hisvoice pitched very closely to that of a woman, which I suppose wasappropriate. "Get out of here, you idiot! I'll have you on chargesfor this intrusion!"
"Somehow, I doubt that." I was determined tokeep my tone as neutral as I could. "But I'll give you a momentto...compose yourself. Then," I finished tersely, "we need to talk.Now."
Turning about, I had to shove Masala asidewho, despite his initial reaction, had obviously decided to followme. Even if I were forced to describe the look on his face, I wouldbe hard put to do so. The closest I can come is to say it was acombination of revulsion, bitter amusement, and perhaps relief thatsomeone else was filling the role that he had been forced into byan ambitious father.
"Well, that was interesting," I said lightlyas the two of us stood back on the other side of the flap.
"That's one way to put it," Masala agreed,his mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile.
I could not help noticing that he refused tolook anywhere in the vicinity of my eyes, for which I could notblame him and, honestly, it was a relief. This was awkward enoughwithout being forced to offer some sort of explanation or solace tothe young Tribune, although I admit I was curious about how hefelt. Waiting a moment longer, I turned about and slapped the flapagain, then
