The Forgotten Legion

'Glad to hear it.' Brennus peered over his shoulder. 'Keep going for a bit. Macro can't run too far.'

'Thank the gods!' said Romulus. 'I trod in some shit in the alleyway.'

'Smells like it!' Chuckling, the Gaul came to a halt. Light flickered from torches on the wall of a building nearby. 'That's about half a mile. Should be enough.'

'You've run from Macro before?' asked Romulus with surprise.

'Many times!'

Shaking his head, Romulus put a hand on Brennus' shoulder. 'So why does he keep letting you in?' he said, inspecting the soles of both sandals.

'I slip him a few sestertii now and then. Don't usually start the fights either.' Brennus' voice took on an injured tone. 'I'm a good customer!'

They both laughed, relieved at escaping unscathed. As the adrenalin rush subsided, Romulus took more notice of the nearby arched doorway. Torchlight profiled a giant painted penis jutting either side, clear evidence of what was on offer within. A small hooded and cloaked figure sat in the shadows some feet from the entrance. Romulus presumed it to be a cripple waiting for alms.

'That a whorehouse?'

'Lupanar, they call it,' said Brennus. 'One of the best in Rome.'

'Tried it?'

'When I was feeling rich.'

A chill ran down Romulus' spine at the thought of Fabiola. 'Ever seen a girl similar to me?'

'Don't think so.' Brennus shrugged. 'But I was very drunk both times. Want to try it?'

'No!' Romulus felt sick. 'My sister could be in there!'

'She 's not,' said Brennus reassuringly. 'Would have remembered a young girl with your looks.'

'I've had enough,' muttered Romulus. 'Let's go home.'

'Come on!' Brennus jingled his purse impetuously. 'There 's enough here to buy us a good time.'

Romulus paused, remembering the half-naked prostitutes he had seen in the ludus.

'We 'll just go inside and take a peek.' The Gaul pointed at the entrance. 'The girls are stunning!'

Romulus' groin throbbed. There would be privacy in such an expensive brothel and the chance of Fabiola being inside had to be remote.

Sensing his indecision, Brennus propelled him towards the door. They had almost reached it when a group of nobles clad in richly cut togas emerged, talking loudly. With automatic deference, the gladiators stood to one side, allowing their betters past.

Most did not even notice.

They had almost gone by when a stocky, redheaded man with a hard face stumbled into Romulus.

'Clumsy brute. Watch where you are going!' The middle-aged equestrian swayed gently, giving off a strong smell of wine. 'I used to have men crucified for less on my latifundium.'

'Sorry, Master,' said Romulus, cursing instantly at his involuntary admission.

The Gaul tensed, instinctively knowing this man could be more dangerous than many opponents in the arena.

'You are a slave?'

Romulus nodded, face completely blank.

'Hurry up, Caelius!' one of the party called out. 'The night is still young!'

'Just a moment.' He adjusted his toga. 'Guard! Get out here!'

'What are you doing, Master?' Romulus said warily.

'He will take you apart, slave. Teach you to respect your betters.'

Suddenly Brennus straightened, towering over the other. Cold eyes glinted in dim light, a vein bulged in his neck. 'Don't do that,' he said.

Tension became palpable.

'Another slave?' Caelius looked round for the doorman. 'What will you do?'

'I am no slave.'

Romulus was stunned by his friend's words. They meant instant death. His efforts to win the Gaul over had obviously taken seed. But now was not the time. Better to take a beating.

'What did you say?' Caelius spat.

Romulus had opened his mouth to speak when Brennus punched the angry noble in the belly. Caelius went down like a sack of lead, mouth open wide with shock.

Heart racing, Romulus moved closer. 'Let's go!' he hissed.

'What in Jupiter's name is going on?' A slave nearly as big as Macro appeared in the doorway. 'Who called?'

Caelius tried to speak, but a hefty kick from Brennus sent him sprawling deeper into the gutter.

'This fellow just bumped into me. Seems to have had too much wine,' Brennus said, smoothing down his tunic. 'We were coming to visit your beautiful ladies.'

Confused, the doorman gaped at Brennus, then at Caelius. Something did not quite fit.

'Wait a moment,' he growled. At last it sank in. 'You're a gladiator! That famous Gaul!'

'Come on,' urged Romulus. There was still time to flee.

'Caelius! Caelius!' The noble 's friends had finally seen what was happening. They came running to his aid.

'Take those rogues into custody!' screeched one.

Brennus' blood was up. 'Know who I am?' he bellowed. 'Don't even think of touching me.'

The guard hesitated, but then the pretence failed. 'Party's over,' he said, reaching for the cudgel on his belt. 'You're a slave like me.'

'Seize him!' yelled an equestrian.

'Ignore those bastards. Let us go,' Romulus urged.

'Huh?' the doorman replied uncertainly. 'But. '

'What do you care about bloody patricians?'

'I have to obey.'

'Says who?' Romulus cried. 'Make your own choice!'

'Come on,' said Brennus. 'Join us!'

'Make a run for it!'

'I'd be killed.' Fear filled the slave 's eyes and he drew the club. 'Just give in. With luck you'll only get a beating.'

Romulus' heart sank. The equestrians were nearly on them, all chance of escape gone. Their night out was over.

'No one is laying a hand on me, by Belenus!' Brennus roared, the wine coursing through him. 'I am a free man!'

'What else can we do?' Romulus had meant to flee the scene, not fight. 'They're nobles.'

'Kill a few!'

'No, you idiot!' This was not how he saw things happening. Outside a brothel was no place to start a rebellion.

But it was too late.

Brennus grabbed the doorman by the tunic, delivering an almighty head-butt. With blood pumping from a smashed nose, the hulk reeled away in agony, clutching his face with both hands. The Gaul seized him by the shoulder and leather belt and, with a great heave, threw the man headlong back into the building.

'Turn around, slave!'

Romulus spun quickly.

Covered in mud, Caelius was only five paces away, dagger in hand. He was flanked by his friends, similarly armed.

'Thought patricians didn't carry weapons?' Romulus answered, anger rising. His gladius slid from the scabbard.

'They're useful for killing scum,' snarled Caelius, lunging forward.