Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) (31 page)

“How?”

“Scaurus had a device that enabled communication between me and Cordus. Apparently Roman Muses need it to deactivate an implant developed by the Liberti Muses.”

“What about these memories Cordus gave you? Can they help us find a way out of Roma?”

Ocella shook her head. “The memories went away when Scaurus deactivated my implant.”

Gaia chuckled. “Implants or not, Roma will find you or Umbra will kill you. Saturnist resources are considerable, but you’ll need to stay on the run. Your best hope is for that siege to last as long as possible, keep them both distracted, and give you a head start.”

Claudia’s tear-streaked, ten-year-old face flashed in Kaeso’s mind. “That siege is killing my home. It has to end.”

“My aren't we ambitious?” Gaia said. “Kidnapping the Consular Heir and lifting a Roman world-siege. You enjoy impossible tasks, don't you?”

“Enjoy isn’t the word I'd choose,” Kaeso said. “But Libertus must win. I can deal with the consequences here.”

“
You
might be able to,” Ocella said in a low voice, “but what about Cordus? We need to protect him. Gaia is right. Keeping Roma and Libertus distracted helps to get us off Terra. I can live with the siege lasting a few more days.”

“Libertus doesn't have a few more days. The Roman fleet has already slagged three major cities. That's over six million people dead.”

“I know,” Ocella said, “and it breaks my heart. But Cordus is important...”

“So is my daughter,” Kaeso growled. “Your niece. You might be here to save humanity, but all I want is to save my world and my daughter from incineration. If the siege ends, then I can handle a little pressure from Umbra and the Praetorians.”

“You are so short-sighted,” Ocella said, her voice rising. “Umbra may have changed your face, but you’re the same man you were before Petra died. You never look beyond your current mission. You never think what happens next. Or who it hurts.”

“When you sentenced every Ancile to death, did you wonder who
that
would hurt?”

“They would’ve killed me and that would’ve killed Cordus,” Ocella snarled. “I hate what I did. I hate myself more than you know. But I made the right decision, because that boy is the only thing that will keep
every human alive
from ending up like the six million dead Liberti.”

Gaia cleared her throat. “Perhaps you two should continue your conversation when you have more privacy?”

Kaeso glanced at the others. Gaia's men were a little too focused on the tunnel ahead. Nestor and Cordus had stopped talking—Nestor frowned at Kaeso, while Cordus looked from Kaeso to Ocella with sad eyes.

Ocella glared at Kaeso, then waded back to Cordus and spoke quietly to him.

Kaeso exhaled. “How much further?” he asked Gaia.

Gaia pointed her torch at the walls to the right. Another small tunnel trailed off into darkness, but she trained her light on scratches carved into the wall on the side. Kaeso did not recognize them.

“Another hundred feet ahead, we should find a large pipe that empties into the Tiber, but...”

When she didn't finish, Kaeso asked, “What?”

“We should feel a current from the outflow. I don't feel anything.”

Gaia was right. Kaeso felt no more current than he did in a bath pool.

“The pipe is blocked.”

Gaia nodded. “Which means we need another way out.”

“Do you know one?” Kaeso scanned the small tunnel on the right as they passed it. The Cloaca Maxima tunnels ran under the entire city. They could be lost for days without finding a way out.

Gaia didn't say anything, but moments later her torch illuminated the pipe that was supposed to lead to the Tiber. The pipe’s entrance was sealed with blocks and mortar, and the work looked relatively recent. The blocks were more square, and the mortar more evenly placed, than the ancient blocks around them. Kaeso guessed this was done within the last two hundred years, after the newer systems were constructed.

Gaia scowled at the new wall. She panned her torch back the way they came and waded in the opposite direction.

Kaeso turned and followed.

A boom reverberated down the tunnel. The water sloshed and mortar dust rained down on them. Gaia stopped, then said, “Damn.”

“We take another tunnel,” Kaeso said.

“I don't know where they go.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. What’s your best guess?”

Cordus waded up and pointed to the tunnel back near the walled up pipe. “I think we should take that one.”

“Why?” Kaeso asked.

“Because I have memories of when this pipe was sealed. The offshoot near it empties into the modern systems.”

“Very good, sire,” Gaia said. “A modern system has manholes from which we can escape.”

Kaeso stared at Cordus doubtfully.

Another boom sounded from the safe house.

“I know the way,” Cordus said. He held Kaeso's gaze with determination. Either the Muses made this boy a good actor, or he really wanted to prove his bravery.

A third boom made up Kaeso's mind.

“Fine,” he said, waving his hand to the walled pipe. “Lead the way,
sire
.”

Gaia walked beside Cordus, focusing her light ahead. Ocella said to Kaeso in a low voice, “Thank you for trusting him.”

“Nothing to do with trust,” Kaeso said. “It's either go with him or wait for the Praetorians.”

Ocella frowned and then followed Cordus.

The helmed Praetorian emerged from the smoking hole in the wall. “The room is empty, Evocatus.”

Lepidus frowned.

“But we found a tunnel behind a book shelf,” the Praetorian said. “The tunnel leads to an ancient storm drain system. No sign of them, though.”

Lepidus thought for a moment. “The old Cloaca Maxima runs under this area.” He turned to another Praetorian holding a com pad. “Bring up the Cloaca Maxima system. Highlight its outlets.”

The Praetorian tapped some keys on his tabulari then showed it to Lepidus. As he suspected, the system was no longer used, but it did drain into more modern systems. He could see only three outlets through which any human could escape. The other outlets were either pipes only a baby could crawl through, or they were sealed.

He studied the three outlets. The first went under the Forum Romanum, the second ran under the Jupiter Fountain, and the third connected with a more modern system. From there the Liberti could go anywhere.

Lepidus pointed to the pad. “Centurion, your teams will guard the three outlets here. Arrest anyone who emerges. I will lead a team into the Cloaca Maxima.”

After he explained his plan to the centurion, the man nodded. “Yes, Evocatus.”

The centurion spoke into his helmet com and ordered teams to secure the outlets Lepidus noted. Lepidus gathered his men and led them into the secret room.

He peered inside the smoking hole that was the secret room's block-covered door. He wished he had more time to study the door’s mechanisms, or the room’s contents. Both would teach him so much about the Liberti presence in Roma. Lepidus did not frighten easily—his faith in the gods assured him his life or death would serve a purpose—but it scared him to know how badly Liberti agents had infiltrated the Roman government. Marcia Licinius Ocella exposed dozens of agents in high places, but he assumed there were more. This room and its records could lead him to those other agents.

Later. Right now he needed to find the boy and discover why he had betrayed his people and his gods by going with Marcia Licinius. Then Lepidus would do what was necessary to protect Roma.

He entered the dark tunnel.

Ocella hadn’t heard any booms from the tunnel behind them in over fifteen minutes, or even sounds of pursuit. At least not from her position at the column’s front beside Cordus. Kaeso was back there now listening for the Praetorians. She trusted his ears, though right now they were the only things about him she trusted. He’d help get them off Terra, but after that...would he give them to Umbra or let them go with Gaia and the Saturnists?

“I bet you are wondering,” Cordus said abruptly, “why I can hold my breath so long, and yet I do not know how to swim.”

“What?”

“Well, I can hold my breath for three minutes, yet I cannot swim. Strange, yes?” His voice had a slight tremble from the cold water.

Ocella shrugged. “I suppose holding one's breath has nothing to do with the water.”

“But don't you want to know why?”

Ocella grinned. “So tell me why you can hold your breath for three minutes, yet can't swim.”

“Because of my father's gas.”

Ocella burst out laughing before she could stop herself. Gaia turned and gave her the severe look of a school matron disciplining a child. Ocella snapped her mouth shut. It was not Gaia who ended her laughter, but the realization that any loud noise could bring the Praetorians down on them.

Ocella whispered to Cordus, “Your sense of humor is going to kill us all.”

Cordus shook his head seriously. “It is not a joke. The gas my father emits from his skin is something all Roman Vessels can do. My family calls it an “aura.” It is odorless to mundanes, but it soothes them, makes them more compliant and worshipful. Only Vessels can smell it, and it is rather vile. So I learned to hold my breath when I am around my father as he manipulates mundanes.”

Ocella didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. No wonder people worshiped the Muses’ human hosts as gods. But Ocella wondered why she never felt the same way around Roman Vessels during her Praetorian days—

The implants.

Umbra would not send their valuable Ancilia to Roma without a defense against the so-called “aura” of Roman Vessels. The implants were ostensibly for communication. Now Ocella realized their secondary purpose, if not their primary.

“Is it just Roman Vessels that can do it?” Ocella asked.

“I believe so. Though I do not know if the Liberti Vessels have evolved the ability since the Roman Muses last encountered them. It has been 15,000 years.”

“Do they do this at all times?”

“It is voluntary,” Cordus said. And then with a shy smile, “Otherwise Vessels would never have descendants.”

“Are you…did you ever…?”

“I only did it around my father, since he expected it of me. I have never used it on you or anyone else since we left the Palace. It disturbs me.”

Ocella noticed Gaia had stopped a dozen paces ahead. Her torch illuminated a recently sealed wall. Like the blocked pipe to the Tiber, the mortar and blocks were more modern than those around it.

Cordus shook his head. “I do not remember this.”

“Did we take a wrong turn?” Ocella asked.

“No, this is the way I remember—er, my Muses remember. It should not be blocked.”

“Well it is now,” Kaeso said, wading up to the front next to Ocella. “Do you remember another way?”

Cordus bit his lower lip, then slowly shook his head.

Kaeso let out a breath. Ocella thought he would yell at Cordus, but he pressed his lips together when he saw her glare. “We go back, then,” he said. “Gaia, we'll need your light.”

Gaia waded toward Kaeso, frowning at Cordus as she passed him. Cordus lowered his eyes slightly, which for him was the ultimate sign of defeat.

Ocella put a hand on his shoulder. “It's not your fault.”

“It is,” Cordus mumbled. “I told them to go this way. Now we might be trapped in this section if the Praetorians are following us.”

“You’re right. It's all your fault.”

Cordus furrowed his brow at her.

“I mean, how could you not realize a wall you didn’t know about was built here?” she said. “You're so incompetent.”

His mouth fell open to protest, and then he closed it. “Maybe I am being foolish about the wall. I suppose I am feeling guilty about this whole situation. Nobody would be here if it were not for me. And that
is
my fault.”

How do I explain that it's just beginning?

Ocella caused more deaths than she wanted to think about. If she survived this, the guilt over those deaths would make a sound night's sleep impossible for the rest of her life.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of the Ancilia she gave up to maintain her cover in the Praetorian Guard and ensure Cordus's safety.

She remembered Scaurus’s face when he walked up those stairs from the secret room in his house. He knew he was going to his death, yet he went to protect them.

She saw the Legionnaire in the Temple of Empanda. All he wanted to do was pay his respects to his god. Ocella rewarded his devotion with a dagger in his heart.

It was likely more people she cared about would soon die because of her. She glanced at Kaeso as he spoke with Gaia.

Cordus sought reassurance that he would not cause more suffering. How could she tell Cordus everything would be all right when more people would likely die before this was all over? Perhaps people in this tunnel?

“I've never lied to you about our chances,” Ocella told Cordus. “We talked about this before we left the Palace.”

Cordus nodded. “Talking about it and living it are quite different. I know it is childish, especially since I have the memories of a thousand years of Consuls. You would think I knew what I was getting into. The Consuls of old did many dangerous things before they consolidated their power over humanity. They led men into battle all the time. I can barely keep my wits about me in a cold tunnel.”

“Out of all those memories,” Ocella said, “how many were from Consuls who actually cared about their people?”

Cordus snorted. “The Consuls never cared about “the people.” The people were only a means to get to space and find the other Muses. They gave “the people” prosperity because they knew a happy population was a productive and virile one. But that will all change someday. Someday soon.”

“Then you are the first Vessel to worry about other human beings. So
of course
you never knew what you were getting into. You never had the memories of Consuls who cared.”

Cordus thought about this, and then he nodded. “You may be right. The Muses do not let Vessels become emotionally attached to mundanes.”

Ocella looked down at him with a grin. “So you've become emotionally attached to me?”

Cordus blushed, and Ocella gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. He glanced at Kaeso and Gaia, who were studying the next tunnel junction with the torch. Cordus whispered to Ocella, “Do you trust him?”

“I used to,” she said. “I want to again. He was the most resourceful man I ever knew, and that was
before
Umbra trained him.”

The group approached Kaeso and Gaia, who were arguing over the correct tunnel.

“If we go back the way we came,” Kaeso said, “we’ll run into the Praetorians.”

“And if we go forward,” Gaia said, “we’ll wander these tunnels for days before finding an exit. It’s only another hundred yards to the next junction. Then we can take the west tunnel which will take us to the river.”

“Aren’t you listening? The Praetorians are coming that way!”

Gaia's two men, Tiberius and Brocchus, watched Kaeso with narrow eyes. Ocella assumed Kaeso wouldn’t attack Gaia, but she hoped Gaia's men wouldn’t shoot Kaeso if he twitched the wrong way.

Kaeso and Gaia argued a few moments when Cordus suddenly said, “Quiet!”

Both Kaeso and Gaia looked at Cordus, surprised. Kaeso said, “You had your chance to—”

“Listen,” Cordus said.

The whole group stopped talking and then stopped moving. Ocella heard the gentle lapping of the water against the walls from their movement, drips echoing down the tunnel from behind them...and a low hissing.

“Do you hear it?” Cordus whispered.

Ocella whipped her gaze to Kaeso. His eyes widened as he also recognized the hissing.

“
Cac!
” Kaeso swore. “Turn off the light! Go back!”

Gaia clicked off her torch, and the tunnel turned pitch black. Ocella heard Kaeso lunge through the water, then felt him push both her and Cordus back the way they came. They all rushed through the water back toward the far end of the tunnel, though she knew it would not be far enough.

“What is it?” Cordus asked, then coughed.

Damn,
Ocella thought, smelling the gas,
it's already on us.
And then she coughed herself. Soon everybody was coughing.

It's over,
Ocella thought.
I failed. All those deaths for nothing...

She felt Cordus begin to drag behind her, and then his body went limp in her arms. She struggled to push him onto the small ledge on the wall that served as more of a shelf than a walking platform. Stars burst at the corner of her eyes despite the darkness as she continued coughing up whatever gas the Praetorians pumped into the tunnels. There was an extra set of hands next to her, and she heard Kaeso grunting as he helped her get Cordus onto the ledge. Between his own coughs, he said, “Get up there.”

He pushed her up as she dragged herself onto the ledge next to Cordus. She stopped coughing, but her limbs were as heavy as marble blocks and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She curled up on the ledge next to Cordus and whispered to him, “I'm sorry.”

Her last thought was that at least they would not drown in the sewer water.

Lepidus waded through the murky water, refusing to allow the cold to affect him. At least his breath mask blocked out the water’s stench. He eyed the ledges on either side of the tunnel, dismissing them as an optional way to get through because they would force him to walk stooped. He would endure the frigid water. The walk would be worth it if he found the quarry he pursued the last several days.

Lepidus kept his eyes on his Praetorian team's lights a dozen yards ahead. He increased his speed as he neared the team’s centurion, his heart thumping with victory rather than the exertion of moving through waist-deep water. His smile broadened beneath the breath mask.

The centurion stood near the entrance to another tunnel on the right, his pulse rifle held high above the water. He tilted his helmeted head toward the tunnel.

“They're in there, Evocatus,” he said through his own breath mask.

“How many?”

“We count seven. Four men, two women, and one boy.”

“Alive?”

“Yes, my lord. All unconscious.”

Lepidus entered. Six Praetorian commandos illuminated the tunnel with their lights. Seven people lay on the ledge above the water in a jumble, some on top of each other, but all asleep. Then Lepidus noticed the woman and the boy.

Praise the gods
.
I've saved the Republic again.

He studied the boy’s features in the harsh commando lights. Cordus had his father's dark eyebrows and wavy black hair. Lepidus gently stroked the boy's hair.

I hope you've been kidnapped, sire. I really do.