‘Just these, sir,’ he replied, producing six more swords. ‘Better than your short daggers, I’ll warrant.’
‘I was intending to knock them out, not kill them.’
‘It takes quite a hit to fell a Praetorian, sir,’ Magnus pointed out seriously. ‘They don’t go down easy. Better to help them on their way with a decent bit of sharp iron, if you take my meaning?’
Sabinus hadn’t planned on killing anyone but realised that Magnus was right: better to silence them once and for all rather than risk them escaping and raising the alarm.
‘All right, but we go for a quick thrust to the throat, to prevent them shouting out.’
‘I know, sir,’ Magnus replied.
Sabinus looked at him. ‘Yes, I’m sure you do. Well, let’s get on with it. Lead off, Caligula.’
They crept through the shrubs and bushes of the laid-out formal garden, taking care not to step on the gravelled paths and keeping close so that they didn’t lose one another in the dense night and driving rain. After a hundred paces or so a couple of dim points of light appeared through the trees.
‘There, that must be the main house,’ Caligula hissed over the wind. ‘We’ll head towards it; the temple should be on our left quite soon.’
With the lights guiding them progress became easier; soon they were aware of a tiny glimmer as light reflected off water running down a stone wall.
‘Here’s the temple; the tunnel is around the other side about twenty paces away. Follow me.’
Caligula started to lead them around the circular building. Vespasian gripped his sword handle tightly as he followed; he felt his heart accelerating and had to concentrate on breathing slowly. Once around the other side Caligula took Sabinus’ shoulder and pointed. Only a few paces away a faint glow emanated from a low doorway. Sabinus nodded and signalled to Magnus to follow him.
Vespasian held his breath as he watched the barely visible silhouettes of his brother and Magnus creep slowly towards the entrance. Suddenly a loud laugh broke through the steady roar of wind gusting through trees and rain falling on leaves. Sabinus and Magnus stopped. A figure appeared in the doorway, stopped and looked up at the rain-filled sky and then out into the black night. He lifted up his tunic, eased his loincloth to one side and started to piss. It seemed to go on for an age. Sabinus and Magnus stayed stock-still, barely six paces away from the Praetorian. Eventually he finished and headed back inside saying something to his companion as he went. Sabinus and Magnus started to ease forward again. Once they were beside the entrance they stopped and looked at each other, then sprang in. Vespasian surged forward followed by the rest of the party and charged into the tunnel to find Sabinus and Magnus searching the bodies of the two guards who were lying on the floor, blood oozing from gashes in their throats and their dead eyes staring in shock at the ceiling.
‘Bugger it, they haven’t got the keys,’ Sabinus spat. ‘Look around, see if they’re hidden somewhere.’
A quick search in the guttering light of the single oil lamp proved futile.
‘Pass me that crowbar, Pallas; we’ll do this as quickly and quietly as possible.’
‘What if there’s a guard in there with her?’ Vespasian asked.
‘Fuck knows. Bring the lamp, Caligula.’ Sabinus snatched the crowbar from Pallas and headed off up the tunnel, intent on getting the thing over with as fast as possible.
The solid oak door had a thick bar across it to prevent people breaking out, not in. Sabinus slipped it out of its housings with minimal noise and eased the thin wedge of the crowbar into the crack between the door and its frame, next to the lock.
‘Right,’ he whispered, ‘Pallas and Cassandros, guard the tunnel entrance. Caligula, you hold the lamp up. Magnus and Vespasian, put your weight against the door and follow me through.’
‘What if it’s bolted on the inside and we can’t shift it?’ Vespasian asked. He was getting increasingly nervous about this ad hoc rescue attempt; concern for Caenis’ wellbeing gnawed at his belly. His brother looked at him with fire in his eyes,
‘It’s not, all right? It’s not. Now, on the count of three push as if the harpies themselves are after you.’
Magnus and Vespasian braced themselves against the door and Sabinus took a firm grip on the crowbar.
‘One, two, three.’ He wrenched back on the bar with all his weight as his companions launched themselves at the door; there was a loud crack and Vespasian and Magnus went tumbling into the darkness.
Vespasian landed on the cold stone floor, grazing his knees. He could hear a suppressed whimper, as if someone was trying not to scream, coming from somewhere in the dark. Sabinus came dashing in still holding the crowbar.
‘Quick, Caligula, get that lamp in here.’
Caligula did as he was told. The room was low and damp. There was another door in the wall opposite that led to the stairs up to the house. To his left Vespasian could see a small, shaking body covered completely by a blanket. He rushed over and stripped it away,
‘Caenis,’ he whispered, looking down at the trembling form buried in a small pile of straw on the floor; her face was covered by an arm. Vespasian gently touched her hair and the whimpering stopped.
She looked round; disbelief registered in her eyes. ‘You! What are you doing here?’
‘Antonia sent us to get you out. Come on, quick.’
‘Have you got the key?’
‘What key?’
‘For this.’ Caenis lifted her left arm; around the wrist was a manacle attached by a large chain to the wall.
‘Shit! Sabinus, look at this.’
‘Fuck!’
‘What do we do?’
‘Well, we’ll have to get the key, or lop her hand off.’
Caenis’ eyes widened in horror at the suggestion.
‘Very funny, Sabinus,’ Vespasian hissed.
‘I’m serious, how else can we get her out?’
‘There’s a guard at the top of the stairs, he keeps the key,’ Caenis whispered quickly.
‘We can’t break down that door to get him without alerting the whole house, and we need to hurry.’ Sabinus was getting impatient.
‘Then we’ll get him to come here,’ Vespasian whispered urgently. ‘Magnus, close the tunnel door. Caligula, put out the lamp.’
The room descended into complete darkness.
‘Caenis, I want you to start screaming and don’t stop until the guard opens the door. Let’s hope there’s only one of them.’
Caenis had no problems screaming. Soon there was a thump on the door.
‘Shut your noise, you little bitch,’ a gruff voice called from the other side. Caenis went on shrieking. There were a couple more bangs and then they heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock; the door opened quickly and a man holding a torch burst into the room straight on to the point of Vespasian’s sword. Vespasian’s arm tensed as he drove the point up through the guard’s throat; he dropped gurgling to the floor, dead.
Vespasian snatched up the burning torch. ‘Sabinus, get the key.’
‘Got it!’ Sabinus ripped the key off a bloody string around the dead guard’s neck. He quickly undid the manacle’s lock and helped Caenis up.
More footsteps came clattering down the steps and into the cell burst a bull of a man. Long, oiled black hair fell to his shoulders. His much-battered, pock-marked face was the colour of oak and adorned with a close-clipped goatee beard.
Caenis screamed again. Magnus hurled himself at the door and rammed it into the brute’s face, throwing him back on to the stone steps behind, knocking him senseless.
‘Magnus, Caligula, lock the stair door and pile all the straw you can find against it,’ Vespasian hissed.
It was the work of moments.
‘Let’s go!’
No one needed a second invitation and they dashed through the tunnel door. Vespasian hurled the torch into the pile of straw and pelted after his comrades. They found Pallas and Cassandros waiting nervously. Shouts could be heard coming from the house.
‘They’re on to us. That was a bright idea of yours, little brother, all that screaming. Quick as you like,
