‘Worthy of the circus back home,’ Corvinus agreed, walking up to them. ‘You two have got balls of iron taking on that thing, I’ll give you that much.’
‘It didn’t give us much of a choice in the matter,’ Magnus muttered while helping Vespasian to his feet.
‘It didn’t give poor Capella any choice,’ Vespasian said, limping over to the twisted and bloodied form of the wild-beast master. ‘Get the column formed up again, Corvinus.’
He knelt next to Capella and gently turned his head. His eyes slowly opened and focused on Vespasian; his breathing was light and irregular and his chest was shredded.
‘A delicious irony, wouldn’t you say?’ Capella wheezed; he essayed a thin smile as blood spilled from both corners of his mouth. ‘The beast master killed by the beast.’
‘You’re not dead yet,’ Vespasian replied as Magnus joined them.
‘I will be soon, I can’t feel my body. Now listen, Vespasian, I’m forced to trust you; you must ensure that my chest gets to my patron. He’s a freedman in the household of Claudius, the son of Antonia; his name is Narcissus.’
Vespasian kept his face neutral. ‘I know of him,’ he said, not quite truthfully.
‘Then you may know that he’s a ruthless man and not to be crossed.’
That had not been Vespasian’s experience of Narcissus but he could well imagine that Capella’s assessment of him was correct. ‘Most people who move in those circles are.’
‘It’s imperative that you get the chest to him without it coming to the notice of anyone else in the imperial family. That’s why I met his agent in Siwa, so as to smuggle it out of Egypt. Had it been put on a ship in Alexandria it would have been inspected by the customs officials, impounded and no doubt given to the prefect, Aulus Avilius Flaccus. He’s completely loyal to Tiberius and would have sent the chest to him, which is something that my patron would wish to avoid at all costs.’
‘Then what you’re asking of me is treason, isn’t it? What makes you think that I will agree?’
‘Money. Take the keys; they were around my neck so they should be close by. In the chest there’s some gold, not much, fifty aurei or so, what’s left of my travelling expenses.’
‘That’s not enough.’
‘My business isn’t done with cash. There’s also a bankers’ draft, payable to the bearer, for a quarter of a million denarii, drawn from Thales of Alexandria; it’s redeemable either with him for a five per cent fee or with the Cloelius brothers in the Forum Romanum for twenty per cent.’
Magnus sucked in a breath through his teeth. ‘Either way that’s a lot of money, sir.’
‘Narcissus will consider it well spent if you make sure the other contents end up with him.’
‘And these other contents are?’ Vespasian asked, wondering what could be so valuable.
‘Land deeds. Over the last three years Narcissus has been buying up huge tracts of land in Egypt on behalf of Claudius.’
‘What’s wrong with that? His mother, Antonia, owns masses of land in Egypt.’
‘Yes, but she’s not a potential heir to the Purple.’ Capella’s voice was getting fainter; he was fading. ‘In a year with a good harvest the income from this land is enormous; Narcissus has made fortunes for his master.’
‘Fortunes with which he hopes to make him emperor?’
Capella nodded weakly, his eyes closed. ‘Exactly, by buying the loyalty of the Praetorian Guard; Claudius must be the next Emperor.’
‘What about Caligula?’
‘Caligula will be the ruin of Rome.’
‘Caligula is my friend.’
Capella’s eyes half opened in weak alarm. ‘Gods below, what have I done?’ he croaked; his breathing became more erratic. ‘Narcissus will have my family killed for this.’
Capella took another faint breath, then, with a choke, died.
‘What are you going to do, sir?’ Magnus asked as Vespasian closed Capella’s eyes.
‘Find the keys to that chest.’ Vespasian got up with difficulty and started looking around; the gashes on his thigh stung and his shoulder throbbed.
Magnus made no attempt to help him. ‘I mean with that chest.’
‘Take it to Antonia, of course, and let her decide what to do with it.’
‘I’ve got a much better idea. Why not just take the gold and the draft and then burn the rest of it? That way you’ll keep well clear of imperial politics. Last time you got involved I seem to remember nearly being thrown off a cliff.’
‘Found them,’ Vespasian said, bending down and picking up the missing keys. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that; I’m already involved. When Capella doesn’t show up in Rome with the land deeds, Narcissus will do some investigation; it won’t take long for his agents to find out that I rescued him from the Marmaridae but he died on the return journey. He will assume, rightly, that I have the deeds and, even though he’s in my debt, he’ll come after me to get them. If I’ve burned them, he won’t believe me and I’ll have nothing to use against him. So I’ve only got two options: give them to him immediately and incur Antonia’s wrath or give them to Antonia and incur Narcissus’ wrath.’
‘Antonia needn’t find out.’
Vespasian looked at his friend with raised eyebrows. ‘You really think that would be possible?’
‘Well no, I suppose not; she’ll have a spy in Claudius’ household. In which case you’re right, Antonia’s your best bet.’
‘I think so, she’ll be able to protect me from Narcissus much better than he’d be able to protect me from her; and besides, if I went against her I would lose all contact with Caenis.’
‘That may not be such a bad thing, if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, with Capella dead who’s going to have the job of looking after Flavia? You struck me as being rather keen to fill that particular vacancy, if you take my meaning?’
Vespasian smiled. ‘Oh I do, but this is a rare stroke of luck; the money in that chest will help me to set up both of them.’
Vespasian was becoming increasingly concerned as they approached Cyrene’s southern gate in the evening two days later; what had seemed from a distance to be just the normal discharge of fumes from the city’s bakeries, forges and cooking fires was now quite obviously thicker over the northeastern part of the city.
‘It looks like there’s a fire in the Jewish Quarter in the lower city,’ he said to Magnus, who was riding between him and Ziri.
‘Well, as long as it doesn’t spread to the bath house in the Governor’s Residence, I couldn’t give a fuck,’ Magnus replied, scratching his heavily bandaged chest, ‘I’ve got a whole desert to scrape off me.’
Vespasian felt his injured shoulder; it still throbbed incessantly and had started to ooze yellow pus. ‘You’re right, I’m not going to do anything either until I’ve had this cleaned and cauterised. I’ll send for Marcius Festus, the prefect of the auxiliary cohort, when I get back; whatever it is that’s burning I’m sure he’s got his men dealing with it.’
They clattered through the gate, strangely devoid of beggars, and headed towards the Governor’s Residence at the heart of the city. Behind them the column dissolved as the exhausted people went their separate ways knowing that they could expect no more help from Rome. The lucky few had homes within the city but the rest would have to rely on the charity of kin, friends or strangers to take them to their final destinations.
As the last of the ex-captives disappeared down side streets the lack of anyone else abroad became apparent to Vespasian. ‘Corvinus,’ he called back to the cavalry prefect behind him, ‘does this look normal to you?’
‘No, and look at the windows, most of them are shuttered.’
‘Perhaps there’re some games going on,’ Magnus suggested. ‘There is an amphitheatre here, isn’t there?’
‘Yes, but even then there would be a few people around, those who couldn’t get in or the squeamish.’
‘I hate the squeamish.’
Upon reaching the Forum they found it deserted too. Vespasian eased himself down from his horse in front of the Governor’s Residence and looked at Corvinus and the small body of surviving auxiliaries. ‘Prefect, you and your men are dismissed, thank them for me.’
‘What’s left of them,’ Corvinus replied sourly, ‘and I doubt that your thanks will recompense them for their
