‘One at least.’ Cato stood up. He turned back to Centurion Plautus. ‘Tell your men that we go on from here in silence. Not a sound, understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Cato could not help a slight smile at being addressed as a superior. Narcissus had told the centurion to obey him and Macro when he had briefly introduced the two Praetorians, dressed in plain white tunics and carrying no sign of their rank. Now it seemed that Plautus recognised and accepted Cato’s authority without having to be told anything of his real identity and rank. He glanced back and saw that all the men were ready to follow him. The flickering glow of the torches illuminated the damp walls of the tunnels and the flow of sewage gleamed as turds and rubbish drifted by. Cato held his torch forward at an angle and then gestured with his spare hand. ‘Let’s go,’ he called softly.
He crept forward, leaning over slightly as the roof of the tunnel became lower and the flame licked off the brickwork overhead. The sewer led straight for fifty paces before bending to the right. Cato calculated that they were nearly at the edge of the warehouse area and heading in the direction of the Aventine district, one of the poorest districts of the city. Another hundred paces on they came to a junction where a smaller tunnel, no more than four feet high, led off to the left. Cato raised his hand to halt the men behind him then examined the tunnel. There was no walkway and no sign of disturbance in the growths on either side of the tunnel. He waved the men forward again.
They passed more junctions but there was no sign that Cestius and his men had deviated from the walkway. After quarter of a mile of slow progress the sewer opened up into a chamber. Two large tunnels entered from each side, while directly opposite was a small cataract. Filthy foam bubbled across the surface of the chamber and the churned-up sewage made the stench more overpowering than ever. One of the Germans coughed violently and then bent over and threw up.
‘That’s going to help.’ Macro frowned. He looked round. ‘What now? Which way do we go? Left or right?’
Cato glanced from side to side for a moment before he consulted Septimus. ‘I reckon we must be close to the Aventine.’
The imperial agent thought for a moment and then nodded. ‘I think you’re right.’
‘In which case, the left tunnel would take us towards the Palatine, and the other one into the Aventine district. Where would Cestius be most likely to hide the grain?’
‘I doubt he would want to hide it near the palace. There are several secret tunnels beneath it, as you know. He wouldn’t want to risk running into any of those. The other tunnel is our best bet.’
‘I agree. Let’s have a look. Macro, you come too.’ Cato turned to the centurion. ‘Stay here while we scout ahead. I’ll send Septimus back for you if it looks like we’re on the right track.’
‘Yes, sir. But don’t be too long, eh?’ Plautus sniffed. ‘The air here is fucking horrible.’
Cato grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder before he entered the right tunnel, followed by Macro and Septimus. Thankfully there was another walkway on the side that saved them from having to wade upstream through the flow of sewage. Cato kept his torch up and paused every so often to examine the sides of the tunnel and the paving stones at their feet. They had gone no further than fifty feet when he stopped and turned round to face the others.
‘This isn’t the right way.’
‘How can you tell?’ asked Macro.
‘There’s no sign that anyone’s used this route for a while. Look at the walls. They’re untouched. Same with the walkway.’ He used the edge of his boot to scrape some of the grime from the stone beneath. ‘We’ve missed something. Come on, we have to go back.’
Back in the chamber Cato looked round again, then his gaze fixed on the cataract. He worked his way around the edge of the chamber to examine it more closely. The channel above the pool was perhaps six feet high, and dropped eight feet into the pool. Tendrils of some kind of growth hung down amid the flow cascading from above. Cato held his torch up to the steady torrent, grimacing as some of it splashed on to him. It was impossible to see through the flow. He bit his lip. There was only one way to find out for sure if his suspicion was correct.
Cato drew the torch back and held it low as he bent forward to shield it from above, flinching as he felt the heat of the flame. Then he sucked in a breath and edged forward along the narrow walkway leading under the cataract. At once his head and shoulders were pounded by water and lumps of solid matter. Then he was lost from the view of his comrades.
Macro’s mouth opened in alarm. ‘What the fuck is he doing?’
Septimus and the bodyguards stared towards the cataract in silence, waiting for a sign of Cato. For a while none of them moved, and the only noise was the crashing rush of fluid over the cataract, amplified by the brick walls of the chamber. Macro could not wait any longer to find out what had become of his friend and hurried round the edge of the chamber. He paused momentarily at the edge of the cataract but before he could steel himself to duck beneath the flow, something moved out from under the curtain of foul water and Cato, minus his torch, burst through spluttering, his eyes clenched shut. As soon as he was out of the flow he straightened up and opened his eyes with a grin.
‘Found it.’
Macro looked him over. ‘You look like … well, you know what you look like. So what’s there?’ He jerked his thumb at the cataract. ‘Besides the obvious.’
‘Best if you see for yourself.’ Cato leant past him and beckoned to Septimus and Plautus. ‘Bring ‘em over!’
‘See for myself?’ Macro shook his head. ‘You are joking.’
‘It’s nothing we haven’t been in before,’ Cato quipped. ‘At least it isn’t deep this time. Come on, follow me. Just be sure to keep your feet on the edge if you don’t want to slip and end up in the pool there. And shield your torch. The rest of you wait here for a moment.’
Cato led the way and with a reluctant sigh Macro followed him with gritted teeth. The sewage closed over his head briefly and then he was through and he found himself in a brick-lined tunnel stretching back behind the cataract. Cato bent down to retrieve the torch he had left on the ground. Macro mopped his brow and took a few paces further in and looked down the tunnel. The floor was paved and there was a channel in the middle, flanked by two stepped walkways, but the channel was dry.
‘What is this place?’ Macro wondered. ‘If Cestius and his lads put it together then they’re a damned sight better organised than I thought.’
‘I doubt they had anything to do with it,’ Cato responded. ‘I had a brief look further along. There’s a feed tunnel off to the right and a bit further on this comes to a dead end. My guess is this section of the sewer was abandoned. At least until Cestius and his gang started to use it.’
‘What makes you think they have?’
‘This.’ Cato held up his spare hand and opened it to reveal a few grains of wheat. ‘I found it just inside the tunnel leading off this one. They brought the grain this way sure enough.’
‘Then that’s a pity. It’s sure to have been spoiled by going under that river of shit back there.’
‘No. That’s not how they did it,’ Cato’s eyes gleamed. ‘Come and see.’
He led Macro back to the cataract and pointed up at the ceiling. For the first time, Macro noticed a wooden board secured to the brickwork by a bolt at each corner close to the cataract. The other end had a chain attached to a hook mounted in the ceiling. Cato handed his torch to Macro and lifted the chain off the hook and eased the board towards the cataract. As he did so, a long stout wooden shaft clattered to the floor, narrowly missing his boots.
‘Aha! I thought there would be something.’ Cato nodded. ‘Right then, the next part should make it all clear to you. Watch.’
Bracing his boots, Cato pushed the board out into the flow, straining as he pushed it out and up. The flow of the sewage was deflected away from the ledge and now the two of them could see the startled expressions of the other men. ‘Get that post!’ said Cato. ‘Wedge it up under the board. Quickly. I don’t know how long I can hold this up.’
Macro grabbed the post and stood beside Cato as he placed one end under the board and then scraped the other end into a small niche in the floor that seemed to have been cut into the stone deliberately. ‘There.’
