“I am incredibly sorry about Tribune ScipioPrefect, but we have another matter that is more pressing.”
I turned back to Masala to tell him that hewould have to wait, yet when I turned back to Scribonius, he hadcontinued past, still leading Scipio’s horse, his back straight andstiff. I wanted to call after him, but Masala was right, and Iwheeled on him now.
“So have you thought of anything?”
“I have.”
He hesitated a moment, looking around to seeif anyone was within hearing before continuing.
“Primus has not seen this Cleitos.”
“No. So?”
“So whatever head we bring him, as long asit belongs to a Thracian, he has no way of knowing that it’s notCleitos.”
“You patricians are cunning bastards, I willgive you that,” I muttered as I thought about his idea. At thatpoint, I did not care if he took offense, but he said nothing.
“But what do we do with him? If he’s alive,it’s not like Primus is not going to hear about it.”
Masala gave a barking laugh.
“Who do you think tells him everything?He’ll know only what I tell him. Prefect, understand this.”
He turned to look up directly into my eyes,his gaze not wavering.
“Marcus Primus is probably the laziest humanbeing you will ever meet. He is completely dependent on me foreverything. And by the time he learns that Cleitos is alive, hewill have other concerns that are a lot bigger than the fact thatwe lied to him. Besides,” he finished, “we can always insist thatwe were duped ourselves, that they substituted someone for theprince.”
“But we’re supposed to kill the rest of themas well.”
“Couldn’t some of them escape?”
That was certainly a possibility, yet therewas still much about this plan I was not comfortable with, notleast of which once again I was relying on Masala to control MarcusPrimus. However, this time Masala would be as implicated andculpable as I was. There would be no way he could say that he wasnot part of the deception since he had been ordered by Primus toact as a witness to avoid that very thing. Finally, I gave myconsent to the plan, except there was one more detail.
“What do we tell Cleitos?”
Masala thought for a moment.
“The truth,” he shrugged. “We tell himexactly what we’re doing, and why.”
He gave me a grim smile.“After all, what arehis choices? If he doesn’t believe us, then he can find out thehard way we’re telling the truth.”
With that decided, we resumed at the trot tomake it back to the baggage train, where Cleitos was still standingnext to the wagon, some of his men that I assumed were hisbodyguard by his side. When I dismounted, I recognized that I wouldhave to sort out the situation with Palma and Caelius. As Gaius’Pilus Prior, I knew Palma fairly well and believed he could becounted on to keep his mouth shut. Caelius I was not as sure about,so I pulled Palma aside to explain quickly what was happening.
“Can Caelius be counted on?”
Palma did not hesitate.
“Absolutely. He hates the Praetor with apassion. Anything that sticks it to him will be fine by him.”
Knowing that I could not be choosy about thekind of guarantee I was receiving, I did the same with Caelius,giving the same explanation. Like Palma said he would, he agreedimmediately, giving me a grin missing several teeth.
“Things may get messy,” I warned them, but Idid not go into details, before I finally walked over to Cleitos,who was watching the conversations with some concern.
“Prefect, I am getting a bit nervousstanding here, waiting for you.”
“There is a problem,” I began, whereuponCleitos took a sudden step back toward the safety of the wagon, hisbodyguards immediately stepping forward.
Seeing the sudden movement, I heard thebarked command of either Palma or Caelius behind me, followed bythe rasping sound of swords being drawn. I held my hands up, palmstoward Cleitos, ruing my choice of words.
“We agree to the terms,” Masala said quicklyand, while Cleitos relaxed somewhat, he looked at Primus’ aide withnarrowed eyes.
“And you are?”
Masala introduced himself, giving himselfthe title of Tribune, which I suppose he was officially, despitethe fact to that point he had played no role with the army. “Mostimportantly, I am the personal aide to Praetor Marcus Primus,”Masala told the Thracian. “And as the Prefect said, there isa…complication,” he said carefully, hurrying on before Cleitoscould question him about his meaning. “But what you need to know isthat in the name of Rome, the Prefect and I agree to the terms asdiscussed by Prefect Pullus and you.”
“In the name of Rome?” Cleitos askedshrewdly, looking from Masala to me. “Not in the name of thisMarcus Primus?”
“No,” Masala admitted. “Let us say that atthis time Marcus Primus is indisposed, and is unable to give thispact his approval, and I am acting in his behalf.”
I tried to conceal my surprise, since thiswas not what we had agreed to say, but I supposed that this was asgood an explanation as any. Cleitos stood there for a moment, thenslowly shook his head.
“I am sorry, Tribune Masala. I do notbelieve you.”
Normally, when a man is lying and is calledon it, his normal reaction is to bluster, threaten, or try to laughit off. Masala did none of these things. Instead, he simply said,“Well, it was worth a try.”
He went on to tell Cleitos the whole story,leaving nothing out. The Thracian prince was quiet, listening toevery word, waiting for Masala to finish. When Primus’ aide did,Cleitos looked at me with a raised eyebrow in a clear question. Forsome reason, he seemed to need my reassurance, like he trusted meto be honest with him, and I was oddly touched that this man I hadbeen trying to kill
