Conspiracy of Eagles

“Don’t worry. I won’t get caught doing anything wrong.”

“Very reassuring” Priscus replied sourly. “I’d best run. Caesar will no doubt have questions and endless requests for me and I have a few things to do first.”

Fronto half-heartedly waved him away, his eyes still on the flag of the Fourteenth. Plancus rode at the front as usual, his armour gleaming and not a spot of dirt on him. Fronto was staring in concern at the Fourteenth’s tribunes, who seemed to number but four with two conspicuously empty saddles, when he felt someone slap him on the shoulder. Turning in surprise, he saw Sabinus standing next to him.

“You took your time.”

“You’re welcome” the staff officer replied with a weary smile. “I’ll catch up with you properly after a debrief, but we visited Nemetocenna on our circuit and there was a courier there looking for you. I told him I’d pass the message on.”

Fronto looked down at Sabinus’ outstretched hand, in which lay a small ivory scroll case. The seal of Balbus was clearly recognisable in the wax.

“Thanks. I’ll have a read as soon as I get a minute’s peace. I’m looking for two of Plancus’ tribunes. Did you lose them in battle?”

Sabinus glanced up at the empty horses as they passed.

“Those two? Hardly! I don’t think Menenius or Hortius would last two minutes in a real fight. They requested to be released of their commission in Nemetocenna so they could use the courier system to head home quickly. Plancus nearly spat teeth but I overrode him. The army will be better off without them, don’t you think?”

Fronto turned a slow, disbelieving gaze on Sabinus.

“You did what?”

“Well they’re hardly a blessing to a military unit, are they? I’d say they can be less harm in Rome. So I let them go.”

“You idiot!”

Sabinus blinked at the venom in Fronto’s voice, but already the legate of the Tenth was stomping away angrily. His thoughts in turmoil, Fronto strode purposefully though without true purpose until he reached the empty granary at the centre of the fort, where he slowed and leaned against the timber wall, breathing heavily.

The pair had gone.

He’d blamed Sabinus, but somewhat unfairly. From a command perspective, it really did make sense, and it certainly removed a threat to Caesar that he wasn’t even aware of. But where did it leave Fronto? He’d been determined to deal with the pair for what they’d done, and military life would probably have presented him with half a dozen opportunities. Would he have those chances in Rome? Would he even be able to find them and get to them?

Angrily, he ground his teeth and finally looked down at the message in his hands. What did Balbus have to say? Perhaps he’d finally agreed the arrangements with Faleria. Despite the reluctance he’d once felt to think of the coming betrothal, he now found himself almost eagerly awaiting news. His thoughts slid happily to Lucilia and he felt himself beginning to calm and relax. Perhaps this was for the best. He would bring the vengeance of Nemesis down on the two tribunes in good time, but there were more important things in life…

He snapped the wax seal and was about to remove the contents when he spotted Fabius and Furius striding towards him, grinning like devils.

“Tullus here worried that Neptune had dragged you to his depths when you got separated from the fleet” Fabius laughed. “I personally doubt that even Neptune has the patience to deal with you!”

Fronto sighed and smiled weakly.

“Sorry. Caught me at a bad time.”

“So I see” Furius frowned, gesturing at the liberal coating of grime and blood across Fronto’s armour.

“No. It’s not that. Menenius and Hortius have left for Rome. Sabinus released them from duty.”

“They won’t hide from you there. You’re a native of the place, right?”

“Puteoli actually, but I know Rome well.”

“Then track them down and let us know when you’re ready. I daresay we’ll be due a furlough.”

Fronto smiled again, this time more genuinely.

“First thing’s first, though: Caesar wants to see me.”

Furius and Fabius nodded and turned to their own business, leaving Fronto staring into space again. With a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the granary wall and began to stroll towards the headquarters, tipping the contents of the scroll case into his free hand as he walked. Trying not to get the expensive parchment too grubby with the mess from his blood-and-mud-stained hands, he gingerly unrolled it and began to read, making sure he was on a clear course across the grass to prevent embarrassing falls while not paying attention.

He was only four yards from the granary when he came to a complete halt.

Three heartbeats later his fingers punched through the delicate parchment as his hand tightened in response to his clenching jaw.

His eyes burning, he was suddenly striding with furious gait towards the command tent, damaged parchment hanging from his hand.

To Marcus Falerius Fronto

I hope this finds you in good health and in a position to hand your command to another and return to us with all possible speed. I shall not waste words with too much periphery.

The villain Clodius has had the audacity to abduct both your sister and my daughter from the streets of Rome in broad daylight. Through the unbelievable bravery and resourcefulness of Faleria, Lucilia managed to escape her imprisonment and has returned to me to deliver the news. I have to admit to having almost broken at the disappearance of my daughter, though my joy at her return was soured by the knowledge that your sister bought Faleria’s freedom with her own return to captivity.

From her description, it appears that Clodius’ actions were entirely his own. Whether or not he has spoken to Caesar about the matter I cannot confirm, though I doubt it. Despite my opinion of the general’s motives, I do not believe he would order harm to our womenfolk. I have attempted to speak to Clodius, but he is no longer at the house of the Julii woman. I believe him to be secure and walled up inside his veritable fortress of a house with a small army. I too have arranged a private force and would like nothing more than to reduce his residence to rubble and pick over the corpses, but I fear for the safety of Faleria if I try and so I bide my time, fretting about her safety.

I know that your first thought will be to come to Rome and help, and I pray that you do, but I also urge you to visit Caesar first and secure his aid in bringing the beast Clodius to heel. Only his master’s command will likely speed our cause.

Know that I continue to watch the house and as soon as anything happens I and my men will be on the bastard’s back.

Hurry home and do not tarry.

Good travels.

Quintus Lucilius Balbus.

Fronto burst into the headquarters building, the door slamming against the wall and shaking dust from the rafters, two of the cavalry guard of Aulus Ingenuus trying to restrain him.

“Caesar!”

Rounding the corner to the main room of the headquarters, the chapel next door glinting with the eagles, flags and standards of eight legions, Fronto came to a halt, the two cavalrymen still grasping his arms.

“Caesar, call these pricks off!”

The general, his eyebrow raised in surprise, waved the two guards away nonchalantly. He had removed his cloak, cuirass, helmet and sword, and slouched back gratefully in his chair wearing only his tunic and breeches, a slave unfastening his boots. Brutus and Rufus stood to one side, Cotta and Varus the other, the latter leaning against the wall and rubbing his splinted arm.

“You seem fraught, Marcus. I realise you’ve had a bad…”