fiscal officer in authority and informally more powerful than most governors . . . because he directed men like Aulus Perennius.
Maximus got the point. The helmsman signet smothered his snarl into an engaging grin as he turned from his partner back to the agent. 'Hey, just a joke, sir,' he said. 'There's just about no traffic through here anyway, except the morning levee and from the courier's entrance.' He gestured with a quick flick of his head. It was more of a nervous mannerism than a direction toward whichever other entrance to the building he meant. 'No harm done, hey?'
'There could have been,' said Perennius.
The older guard closed the tablet carefully and offered it back to the agent. 'Thank you, sir. Now, if - '
Perennius ignored him. His eyes forced Maximus back a step. The agent's hard voice continued. 'It still could be, son, couldn't it? Look at me, damn you!'
Gaius cleared his throat and laid a hand lightly on his superior's shoulder. He had seen the reaction before, always in rear areas, always in response to someone's attempt to parlay petty authority into injustice. The younger Illyrian knew that it would be to the advantage of everyone if he could calm his protector before matters proceeded further.
For the moment, Perennius noticed Gaius as little as he did the older guard. Maximus squirmed as he met the eyes of the shorter, older man. 'Listen, you slimy little thief,' the agent went on in a fierce whisper, 'If I ever again hear of you shaking down people on the business of this Bureau, I'll come for you. Do you understand?'
Maximus nodded his head upward in affirmation.
'Do you understand?' Perennius shouted.
Gaius stepped between the two men. 'Say yessir, you damned fool!' he snapped to the guard. 'And you better mean it, because he does. Aulus,' he added, turning to Perennius, 'you back off, he's not worth it.'
'The gods know that's true,' Perennius muttered. He gripped Gaius' shoulder for support and took a shuddering breath.
'Yessir,' said the guard. He could not believe what was happening. He had just enough intellectual control to suppress the desire to grasp his sword hilt. This couldn't be happening!
Still touching Gaius, though the support needed was no longer physical, Perennius retrieved his orders from the other guard. 'Sorry,' he said to the mail-clad man, 'but if I don't cure him, who in blazes will?' He thrust the diploma into his wallet and began to unbuckle his equipment belt. Gaius stepped back and wiped his forehead with the inner hem of his cloak.
'Ah, that's right, sir,' said the older guard as Perennius loosed his shoulder strap, then the waist buckle itself. 'We'll return your weapons to you when you leave.'
'Sure, couldn't have me going berserk in Bureau Headquarters, could we?' said the agent with the only smile among the four men. His wallet and purse were hung from a separate, much lighter belt. That saved him the problem of unfastening the hook-mounted scabbards when he disarmed, or handing the sword and dagger over bare to be dulled when somebody inevitably dropped them.
'Ah, sir,' the guard added tentatively, 'the pass is for you alone.'
Everyone paused. Perennius laughed abruptly. Maximus flinched away from the sound.
The agent was amused, however. He was not just going through some prelude to the murderous frenzy about which he had joked. Perennius had intended to carry his protege in to see Navigatus. It would be good for Gaius' career, especially if the emergency summons meant the Director might need Perennius' gratitude. Under normal circumstances, the agent could have squared the guards easily enough and taken Gaius into the building. He did not see any practical way of doing that now that he had thrown a wholly unnecessary scene. The guards might be willing to compromise - Maximus looked both confused and terrified - but Perennius' own sense of propriety would not permit him to openly proclaim himself an idiot.
'You know,' the agent said as he gave his sword and dagger to the younger guard, 'there's times that even I think I've been on the job too long. The only problem is that when I go on leave, I get wound up even tighter.' He grinned and added, 'Don't know what the cure is.' But he did know, they all knew that death was the cure for men in whom frustration and violence mounted higher and higher.
'Well, I'll wait out here,' Gaius said. He was a good kid, prideful but not ambitious enough for his own good. It had probably not occurred to him that he was missing the chance of a real career boost. 'Or look, there's a tavern right there - ' he thumbed toward the end of the court. 'Look me up when you're done with your interview.'
Perennius glanced first at the westering sun, then back to the younger man. Everybody in a cathouse this close to Headquarters was probably an informer or a spy in addition to their other duties. Gaius was the friendly sort who tended to be loose-lipped when he had a cup or two in him or was dipping his wick. Perennius could not imagine that such talk would do any intrinsic harm, but it would get back to the Bureau for sure and Internal Security would drop on the kid like an obelisk. 'Look,' the veteran agent said, 'why don't you head straight to the Transient Barracks and make sure they've assigned us decent accommodations. There's a nice bath attached to the barracks. I'll meet you there, soon as I can - and there's shops in the bathhouse, better wine than they'll serve around here.'
Gaius shrugged. 'Sure,' he agreed. 'I'll catch you there.' The glance he cast over his shoulder as he walked off was from concern over Perennius, not because the older man was manipulating him.
The agent took a deep breath. 'Look,' he said to Maximus in a calm, even friendly, tone, 'if you wear your body armor, you'll live longer. Whether or not that's a benefit to the Empire sort of depends on whether you have sense enough to take good advice.'
Maximus nodded stiffly, but there was no belief in his eyes - only fear of the result of giving the wrong answer to a test that he did not begin to understand.
Perennius sighed. He looked at the older guard, the one with the mail shirt and the scar snaking up his right arm to where the sleeve of his tunic hid it. The infantryman smiled back at the agent, The expression was forced but perhaps it was the more notable for that. 'Quintus Sestius Cotyla,' he volunteered. 'Third Centurion of the Fourth Battalion, Palatine Foot.'
'Tell him about it,' Perennius said with a nod toward the younger guard. 'When the shit comes down, habits'll either save you or get your ass killed. For a soldier, walking around on duty without armor is a damned bad habit. But blazes, I've got work to do, I guess.'
Sestius nodded. He rapped sharply on the door with a swagger stick. 'Pass one,' he called through the triangular communication grate.
'The tribune doesn't object so long as our brightwork's polished,' said Maximus unexpectedly. He held a rigid brace with his eyes on the opposite building instead of on the man he was addressing.
The door groaned and began to swing inward. Perennius looked at the guard without anger. 'Your tribune,' he said 'may not have seen as many feet of intestine spilled as I have, sonny. But, like I say, it's a problem that'll cure itself sooner or later.' He stepped between the men into the short passageway that led to the shabby elegance of the entrance hall.
The interior of the building was very dark by contrast to the sunlit street. Perennius nodded to the functionary who had opened the door, but he did not notice that the fellow had raised a hand for attention. 'A moment, sir,' the man said in a sharp voice as Perennius almost walked into the bar separating the passage from the hall proper.
The hall was a pool of light which spilled through the large roof vent twenty feet above. The agent's eyes adapted well enough to see by the scattered reflection that the man who spoke was too well dressed to be simply a slave used as a doorkeeper. There was a shimmer of silk woven into the linen of his tunic. 'Your pass, sir,' he said with his hand out. Beside him stirred the heavy-set man with a cudgel, the civilian equivalent of the two uniformed men outside. Since the last time Perennius had been here, the Bureau had added its own credentials check to duplicate that of the army. Clerks seated at desks filling the hall glanced up at the diversion.
Perennius fingered out his diploma again and handed it to the doorman. 'First,' he said, 'I need to see a fellow named Zopyrion, Claudius Zopyrion, in one of the finance sections.'
The doorman ignored what the agent was saying. He closed the document with a snap and a smile. 'Very good, Legate Perennius,' he said in a bright voice. 'The Director has requested that you be passed through to him at once. His office is - '
'I know where the Director's office is,' Perennius said quietly. He could feel muscles knotting together, but he managed not to let his fists clench as they wanted to do. Rome always did this to him; it wasn't fair. 'First I need to
