Praetorian (29 page)

‘Oh, sod it!’ Macro growled as he dropped the cosh, balled his hand into a fist and smashed it down directly into the other man’s cheek. Vitellius’s head struck the ground beneath and he went limp, his arms dropping untidily across his chest. Macro drew his hand back to strike again but saw that Vitellius had been knocked cold. Macro struggled up, breathing hard. Cato stood on the other side of the fallen man, staring down.

‘Great,’ said Macro. ‘Now what do we do?’

‘He’s seen us. He knows we’re in Rome. We can’t let him talk.’

‘So.’ Macro smiled cruelly, and drew his dagger out. ‘I’d always hoped it would come to this.’

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Cato grasped his arm.

Macro turned to him with a surprised expression. ‘We can get
rid of him once and for all. You know what he’s done, to us and others. I can’t think of a man who is more deserving of a knife in the ribs and being left to bleed out in the gutter.’

‘No.’ Cato shook his head. ‘That’s not in our orders.’

‘Then it’s a bonus.’ Macro pulled his hand free.

‘No. Think about it, Macro. Witnesses saw him leave with Lurco. Narcissus is bound to hear of it. If he turns up dead, then Narcissus will know it was us.’

‘So? He’s no friend of Narcissus either.’

‘That doesn’t mean Narcissus won’t use it against us. You don’t go and kill the son of one of the most influential men in Rome without there being consequences.’

Macro was silent for a moment. ‘Then let’s just make him disappear. Drop him into the Great Sewer.’

‘What if his body is found and recognised?’

Macro held up his dagger. ‘I can make sure that he won’t be recognised.’

‘Put that away, Macro,’ Cato said firmly. ‘We have to take him with us.’

‘Bollocks,’ Macro grumbled. ‘Won’t be easy carrying ‘em both.’

‘We’ll manage. Keep watch while I see to them.’ Cato drew some thick twine and a few strips of cloth from the side bag under his cloak. He tied the hands of both men and then stuffed their mouths with the cloth. No one was about, and only the familiar sounds of the capital broke the silence. Cato helped lift Vitellius on to Macro’s shoulders and then lifted Lurco, who was more slightly built than his companion.

‘Ready?’ asked Cato. ‘Let’s go.’

It was at least half a mile to the safe house and they kept to the side streets as they struggled under their burdens. At one point Vitellius began to stir and Macro was obliged to crack his head against a wall to keep him quiet.

‘Don’t get a taste for that,’ Cato warned him as they continued up the slope of the hill into the Subura district. Just before they reached the safe house they ran into a rowdy group of young men and had to make up some story about their mates not being able to hold their drink. The two parties parted with good-humoured
laughter. At last they staggered into the insula and dumped Vitellius in the vestibule before labouring upstairs with the centurion. Septimus opened the door for them, backing into the room which was illuminated by an oil lamp.

‘Good work.’ He nodded approvingly as he made to shut the door.

‘Wait,’ Cato gasped. ‘One more … to come.’

‘One more? What are you talking about?’

‘Explain later … Come on, Macro.’

When they returned with Vitellius, the imperial agent stared at the second body in surprise, and then shock as he recognised his features.

‘Are you mad? Good gods, do you know who this is? What the hell is he doing here?’

‘He was with Lurco … when we took him,’ Cato explained between breaths. ‘We didn’t have any choice.’

‘You didn’t have to bring him here. Why not leave him in the street?’

‘He recognised us.’

‘How?’

Cato exchanged a wary look with Macro before he replied. ‘I take it that Narcissus has not told you about our past history.’

‘Only what I needed to know,’ Septimus replied stiffly. ‘It is dangerous to possess too much knowledge in my line of work.’

‘In that case, it’s enough for you to know that we served with Vitellius in the Second Legion in Britannia. We didn’t see eye to eye on a few issues.’

Macro chuckled. ‘To put it fucking mildly.’

‘In any case,’ Cato continued, ‘we can’t afford to have him at liberty. He can link us to the disappearance of Lurco. Until our job is done, he has to be kept out of sight. He’ll have to go with Lurco.’

‘Or we could get rid of him,’ Macro suggested and then raised a hand to placate Cato as his friend glared at him. ‘Just trying to think through the options.’

Septimus sucked in an anxious breath. ‘Narcissus is not going to like this. Matters are already slipping out of our control. Vitellius must be dealt with.’

There was a groan and the three men turned to see that Vitellius was stirring.

‘He has to be blindfolded,’ Cato said quietly to Septimus. ‘He’s seen more than enough already. We don’t want him to identify you.’

‘Quite. Deal with it and put him in the other room while we talk to Lurco. We need to find out what he knows about the Liberators’ plot.’

Macro took out his dagger and cut a strip from Vitellius’s cloak which he wrapped twice round Vitellius’s face before tying it off securely. Then he put his hands under the former tribune’s shoulders and hauled him into the next room where he dumped him on the floor. The shock of the impact brought Vitellius to full consciousness and he mumbled into his gag as he writhed on the ground. Macro pressed his boot down on Vitellius’s shoulder.

‘Don’t move,’ he growled, ‘and we might let you live. Cause any trouble and I swear, by all the gods, that I’ll cut your throat. Understand?’

The other man stopped struggling and laid still, chest rising and falling. He nodded.

‘There’s a good patrician,’ Macro said, with contempt. He turned away and returned to the other room where Cato and Septimus had propped the other captive up against the wall. Septimus pulled up his hood to conceal his features. Lurco was moaning faintly and Cato reached forward to pull the gag from his mouth. Lurco retched and an acidic waft of breath struck Cato’s face. The centurion mumbled incoherently as his eyes flickered and Cato slapped him.

‘Come on! Wake up!’

‘Whharr … What?’ Lurco blinked and jerked his head back against the wall with a sharp crack. He winced and let out a pained groan.

‘Oh great,’ Macro mumbled. ‘All we need is for the idiot to get knocked out again.’

‘Shhh!’ Cato hissed irritably. He leant forward and roughly shook Lurco’s shoulder. ‘Lurco … Centurion Lurco!’

The man groaned and opened his eyes again, blinking as he struggled to focus. He glanced at the faces in front of him and his
eyes widened in surprise. ‘I know you. Of course I know you. Guardsmen Capito and Calidus. The new recruits.’ He frowned as he tried to make out Septimus’s face, but it was shadowed by the hood of his cloak and Lurco gave up and returned his attention to Cato and Macro.

‘By the gods, I’ll have you both crucified for this! Assaulting a superior officer and kidnapping him. You’ll be shown no mercy.’

‘Shut up,’ Cato snapped, raising his fist threateningly. ‘You’re the one in trouble. Unless you answer our questions truthfully.’

For the first time Lurco looked uncertain, then scared. He swallowed anxiously and licked his lips before responding in a soft voice. ‘Questions?’

‘Don’t play the innocent,’ snapped Septimus. ‘We know you’re part of the conspiracy.’

Lurco’s brow creased. ‘What do you mean? What conspiracy?’

Septimus kicked him in the stomach, then, as Lurco gasped for breath, he stabbed a finger at him. ‘No more warnings. We ask, you answer. Clear?’

‘Yes …’ Lurco whispered. ‘Quite clear.’

‘Right then. You were named by a traitor who recently fell into our hands. He gave you up before we finished with him. Said that you were one of the ringleaders of the plot to overthrow the Emperor.’

‘It’s a lie!’ Lurco shook his head desperately. ‘I’m not a traitor. For Jupiter’s sake, I swore an oath of loyalty!’

‘So did the man we questioned. Didn’t stop him betraying Claudius. Nor you.’

‘No. It’s a mistake.’

‘True enough,’ Septimus replied and nodded to Macro. ‘See what you can do to loosen his tongue, or his teeth.’

‘My pleasure.’ Macro smiled coldly and bunched his fists. He hooked his right into the centurion’s cheek and Lurco’s head jerked hard to the side. A fiery stab of pain shot down Macro’s arm, adding to the existing pain following his earlier contact with the wall when he had felled Vitellius. Lurco let out a deep groan. He turned, dazed, to face his questioners again; their shadows, distorted and
menacing, played over the far wall of the room. He spat out a bloody gobbet then spoke with quiet sincerity. ‘I’m innocent, I tell you.’

‘I see,’ Septimus sneered. ‘Then why were you named as a traitor?’

‘I-I don’t know. But I swear it’s a lie.’

‘Pah! You’re the liar, Lurco. And a pretty poor one at that. I want the truth. Macro!’

Lurco’s eyes snapped towards Macro, wide and pleading. This time Macro struck him with his left, and Lurco took it just above the ear as he tried to move his head out of the way. The centurion winced and his eyelids fluttered for a moment.

‘Please … please. I’m innocent,’ he mumbled.

Septimus regarded him in silence and then stretched up to his full height, narrowly missing one of the beams in the low ceiling. He regarded the centurion for a while and then scratched his nose. ‘What do you think, lads? Is he being straight with us?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cato replied, playing along. ‘Remember how long the other traitor lasted before he spilled his guts? It’s just a question of how long we have to beat him before he gives up any information. Let’s get on with it.’

My pleasure,’ Macro growled, edging forward, his fists raised.

‘For pity’s sake!’ Lurco bleated. ‘This is wrong. All wrong. I’m loyal to Claudius. I’m innocent. You have to believe me!’

‘No we don’t.’ Macro pressed his hands together and cracked his knuckles, hoping that he wouldn’t have to strike the man again with his bad hand.

‘Look at it from our position,’ Septimus continued in a more kindly tone. ‘Why should we believe you and not the man who gave us your name?’

‘Because I’m telling the truth. Ask your man again. Ask him why he’s lying.’

‘We can’t, unfortunately. He died under questioning.’

Lurco went pale. When he spoke again his voice took on a pleading tone. ‘Look, there’s been a mistake. The man you interrogated, he must have got my name wrong.’

‘No, no.’ Septimus clicked his tongue. ‘He was very specific.
Centurion Lurco, Sixth Century, Third Cohort of the Praetorian Guard. That is you, isn’t it? There’s no mistake.’

‘Then … then he must have been lying.’

Septimus exchanged an inquiring glace with Cato. ‘What do you think?’

Cato pretended to reflect for a moment. ‘It’s possible. But then there’s the other matter.’

‘Oh?’

‘That other business we discovered. The fact that Centurion Sinius wants him killed. That doesn’t seem to make any sense. Very peculiar.’

‘Yes.’ Septimus nodded. ‘Peculiar.’

Lurco looked from one to the other with growing apprehension. ‘Sinius wants me dead? What’s going on?’

‘It’s simple,’ Macro said. ‘Sinius gave us orders to kill you.’

‘But we brought you here instead,’ Cato continued. ‘We already know that Sinius is part of the conspiracy. The thing that’s puzzling us is why one conspirator would give orders for another conspirator to be murdered. Care to shed any light on that mystery?’

‘I-I don’t know anything about it.’ Lurco raised his bound hands. ‘You have to believe me. I beg you.’

Macro clicked his fingers and looked at Cato as if an idea had struck him. ‘Perhaps the traitors are trying to cover their tracks? Dead men tell no tales, and all that.’

‘But I’m not a traitor!’ Lurco whined. ‘I’m not part of any conspiracy!’

‘Pipe down!’ Macro snarled. ‘Or you’ll wake everyone in the bloody building.’

Lurco subsided.

Cato spoke again. ‘If that’s true, why do you think the conspirators want you dead? There has to be a reason. What is it that you know that makes you a danger to them?’

‘I don’t know. I swear I have no idea. Please believe me!’

The other three men stared at him in silence and the centurion cowered. Septimus took a deep breath and puffed his cheeks out. ‘We need to talk. Put him next door with the other one.’

Macro and Cato grabbed the centurion by the arms and dragged
him into the next room and placed him against the wall opposite Vitellius. They closed the door firmly behind them and then moved close to Septimus so that their words would not be overheard by the prisoners.

‘We’re none the wiser,’ Septimus concluded bitterly. ‘Why would the Liberators want him dead?’

‘Perhaps they’re just doing the imperial guard a favour,’ Macro suggested with heavy irony. ‘He’s not the best officer I’ve ever encountered.’

‘I think we can discount that,’ Septimus replied, not knowing Macro well enough to be certain if he was being humorous.