The Forgotten Legion

'The bronze is of huge importance. Although it is Etruscan, the Romans would revere it highly,' agreed Olenus. 'With it, Crassus can use pet augurs to predict what he likes.' His contempt was obvious. 'And I am sure an aspiring general would love Tarquin's sword. Anything to become more popular than Pompey.'

'Why kill you?'

'Cleans everything up. After all, I'm an Etruscan haruspex,' Olenus cackled. 'And Romans don't like me. Too much of a reminder of the past.'

'How does he know about the artefacts?'

'Caelius suspects, but isn't sure.'

'So why hasn't he tortured you before now?'

'He was too scared. I have always made sure the slaves on the estate knew my predictions over the years. Crop failure, floods, disease. Caelius would have heard them too.'

Tarquinius nodded, remembering stories from his childhood about the haruspex who knew where lightning would strike, which cows would prove barren.

'But Caelius' financial worries have conquered his fear. He has sent you to make sure I am still here when the soldiers arrive.' Olenus twisted the lituus between withered hands, the golden bull's head on its top rotating gently. 'Doesn't leave much time to complete your studies.'

'No! You must flee,' Tarquinius said urgently. 'I'll come too. It'd be at least three days before we are missed. Caelius will never find us!'

'I cannot outrun destiny.' His voice was calm. 'It was so obvious on the liver in your dream. Those soldiers will kill me.'

'When?'

'Four days.'

Tarquinius' heart pounded in his chest. 'I'll finish Caelius myself,' he threatened.

'The legionaries will still come from Rome.'

'Then I'll stay here and fight them.'

'And die needlessly. You have many years of life and a great journey to make, Arun.'

It was pointless arguing. Tarquinius had never changed the old man's mind about anything. 'What journey?' he asked. 'You never mentioned that before.'

Olenus got up, wincing as his back straightened. 'Let us go to the cave.

Take your bow and pack. You can pick up those pelts and kill the last wolf on the way home.' He walked over and grabbed the lamb tied up by the hut.

The animal bleated plaintively as the rope was fastened around both its back legs and it was dangled over Olenus' shoulder.

Tarquinius followed the haruspex along the same track they had been on a few weeks before. They climbed in silence, until only the scrubby grass beloved by sheep and goats remained to cover the stony ground. The weather was much calmer than usual on the mountain and a few clouds sat unmoving overhead.

An eagle appeared over the crest of the ridge above, bringing a smile to Tarquinius' face. It was always a good omen to see the most regal of birds.

They were still picking their way up the steep slopes by early afternoon. A cool breeze kept temperatures bearable, but in the fields far below it would be a different matter.

Olenus came to a halt, a fine covering of sweat on his wrinkled forehead.

'You're in good shape, old man.' Glad of the rest, Tarquinius took a pull from his water bag.

'Sixty years living on this mountain.' Olenus scanned the harsh environment of rocks and the occasional bush which had survived the extremes of weather. It was desolate but beautiful. The sky had emptied of clouds, the only sign of life the bird of prey drifting on thermals. 'It's been a good place to live and it will be a good place to die.'

'Please stop talking like that!'

'Better get used to it, Arun. Haruspices have lived and died here since time immemorial.'

Tarquinius quickly changed the subject. 'Where is this cave?'

'Up there.' Olenus waved his lituus at the winding path. 'Another hundred paces.'

Teacher and pupil walked the last few steps to the entrance, hidden until they had virtually fallen into it. The narrow opening was barely wide enough for two men to stand abreast.

The young Etruscan gaped. He must have been past the aperture countless times searching for sheep, but nobody would ever find it unless they knew where to look. Then he smiled. The long years of waiting were nearly over.

'Mind your head.' The haruspex paused, muttering a prayer. 'The ceiling is quite low.'

Tarquinius followed Olenus, squinting as his eyes adjusted from the light outside. It was the cave in the dream, the interior just as plain as he remembered. The only evidence of human presence was a small ring fireplace in the centre of the floor.

Olenus put down the lamb, tying the rope round a large rock. He paced deeper inside, studying the wall. About thirty paces from the entrance, he stopped. With a grunt of effort, the old man reached up into a crevice with both hands, searching.

Tarquinius watched with fascination as the soothsayer pulled out a heavy oblong object wrapped in cloth. Olenus brushed off a thick layer of dust and turned to him.

'Still here!'

'The sacred liver?'

'The first one ever made by a haruspex,' replied Olenus solemnly. 'Bring the lamb.'

He led the way outside, stopping by a slab of black basalt that Tarquinius had noticed on the way in. Olenus set down the lituus and pulled a long dagger from his belt, laying it on the edge of the flat rock.

'That is just like the altar I saw in my dream!'

'There is another one, deep inside the cave.' Olenus unwrapped the bronze liver, placing it reverently beside the knife. 'But today's divination must be performed in sunlight.'

Tarquinius peered at the smooth lump of metal, coloured green with age. It was shaped exactly like the purple organ he had seen cut from butchered cattle and sheep. Bulging more on the right, the bronze had two triangular pieces protruding from its inner aspect, like different lobes of a real liver. The uppermost surface was covered in lines, dividing it into multiple areas. Spidery, cryptic symbols had been etched on each part. Having studied diagrams of the liver over and over again, Tarquinius found he could understand the inscribed words.

'It names the gods and stellar constellations!'

'All that time studying wasn't in vain, then.' Olenus took the rope from him. 'You read the whole Disciplina Etrusca twice, so you should know most of what I'm going to do.'

Tarquinius had spent countless hours spent poring over cracked parchments that Olenus kept in his hut. He had digested dozens of volumes, constantly encouraged by the old man leaning over him, indicating relevant paragraphs with long yellow fingernails. There had been three sets of books — the first, the Libri Haruspicini, was dedicated to divination from animal organs; the second, the Libri Fulgurates, dealt with interpretation of thunder and lightning. The last, the Libri Rituales, concerned Etruscan rituals and consecrations for cities, temples and armies.

'Gently, little one,' Olenus whispered.

The lamb pulled the rope taut, an alarmed look in its dark brown eyes.

Speaking reassuringly, the haruspex placed the animal on the centre of the basalt. 'We thank you for your life, which will help us understand the future.'

Tarquinius moved closer. He had seen Olenus perform sacrifices before, but not for some months. The haruspex had never used the bronze liver alongside a fresh offering. And although Tarquinius had tried divining many times after he had been hunting, they had only been practice runs, predicting things like weather and harvest yields.

'It is time.' Olenus picked up the dagger. 'Observe how a fresh liver may be read. Hold him properly.'

Tarquinius gripped the lamb's head and extended the neck towards Olenus. With a swift slash of the blade, the old man cut its throat. Dark red venous blood gushed on to the altar in a thick stream, spattering them in