Spartacus: Rebellion (11 page)

‘That’s my job.’

‘It won’t be long. No more than a few lines.’

‘Four asses.’

‘Fine. Can you have it sent as well?’

‘That will cost more. Where does it need to go?’

‘Rome.’

There was a frown. ‘The road south isn’t safe at the moment, as you know.’

‘Because of Spartacus and his men?’

A tight, angry nod. ‘They say that he’s advancing on the town. The proconsul is sure to act within the next day or so. His two legions are ready for a fight. With the blessings of Jupiter, Greatest and Best, we will soon rid be of the Thracian murderer and the scum who follow in his wake.’

‘Let us hope so,’ Carbo replied blithely. ‘Can you have it sent anyway?’

‘I should be able to find someone. It will cost you, mind.’

‘How much?’

‘Call it an even denarius.’

Carbo made a rueful face, but he would have paid far more if he’d had to. He fumbled in his purse and handed over a silver coin.

Selecting a small piece of parchment, the scribe placed it on his stained desk and weighed its corners down with pieces of lead. Dipping his stylus into a pot of ink, he looked enquiringly at Carbo.

‘“Honoured Father and Mother, I live in hope that this reaches you both healthy and well.”’

The scribe pursed his lips with concentration as he finished the line. ‘Yes?’

‘“I can only apologise for the lack of communication since I left home. I departed because I wished to” . . .’ Carbo paused, wondering what he should say. ‘. . . “help the family’s financial problems in my own way, rather than doing as Father wished. I know that this makes me an undutiful son, but I could not bear the thought of becoming a lawyer.”’

‘I don’t blame you,’ said the scribe, scowling at the stallholder opposite, a tall man with oiled hair and an imperious manner. ‘Liars and thieves, the lot of them.’

Even more aware of the need to choose his words with care, Carbo smiled.

‘Continue.’

‘“I still hope to help with regard to Father’s
obligations
in the future. For the moment, however, that will have to wait. I am about to embark on a long and dangerous journey, one from which I may never return.”’
May? Will.
But he couldn’t say that, in case the scribe got too curious. His letter was surely odd enough as it was. ‘“Before my departure, I wished to let you know that I pray for you both daily. May the gods watch over and protect you. Your loving son, Carbo.”’

The scribe signed off the letter with a flourish. ‘Thinking of seeking your fortune abroad?’

‘Yes.’
You cannot even imagine.

‘With a merchant?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Gaul, or somewhere even further afield?’

‘I have to meet a man in Placentia who is heading for Gaul and then Britannia,’ lied Carbo.

‘You’re a braver man than me,’ said the scribe with a shudder. ‘They say that the seas around Britannia are full of terrible monsters. Its natives live under the malign influence of the druids. Their warriors fight naked, eat the flesh of their enemies, and make drinking cups out of their skulls.’ He took Carbo’s feigned horror at face value. ‘Of course I didn’t mean that you would come to any harm. No doubt you’ll be home within the year, a wealthy man.’

‘No doubt.’ Real grief gripped Carbo. Despite the lie about his intentions, his imminent departure was no less final. If only he could turn up on his uncle’s doorstep and say goodbye to his parents in person, instead of sending them a coded letter.
Be content. It’s the best you can do.

‘To whom should the letter be sent?’ asked the scribe, folding the parchment into a little square.

Carbo’s mouth opened and closed. He wanted to say, ‘Jovian Carbo, at the house of the lawyer Alfenus Varus, who lives on the Esquiline Hill in Rome,’ but his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth.
What am I doing? This is insane.

‘Well?’

Still Carbo said nothing.

‘The letter’s no good without a name and address.’

‘Leave it. I’ve changed my mind.’

‘Change of heart?’

‘Yes,’ Carbo muttered. ‘My prayers will have to suffice.’

‘Family are always hard to deal with.’ The scribe’s tone was sympathetic.

‘Yes,’ replied Carbo gruffly. ‘I want my denarius.’

‘Give me four asses, and it’s yours. I have to be paid for my time,’ said the scribe with a frown.

Carbo rummaged in his purse and handed over the small coins. In return, the scribe tossed him the denarius. Carbo nodded his thanks and left. He had to concentrate on his real mission and find out what he could about Longinus’ plans. After that, he could drown his sorrows. In the morning, they’d return to their camp, where Spartacus would be waiting. He walked past a druggist’s stall, vaguely noticing a legionary who was engrossed by he bottles and lotions on display without discerning it was the same individual who had been talking to the doormen outside the inn. He also missed the man hurrying over to the scribe.

By the time he’d reached Vulcan’s Anvil again, it was nearly dark. He was ushered inside with more greasy smiles. Carbo scanned the room, but there was no sign of Navio. His eyes were drawn to the women behind the bar. A raven-haired temptress now stood where the brunette had been. She was even more gorgeous than the others, and Carbo knew that she was the one he’d pick. But before that, he had work to do. Ordering a jug of Campanian, he found a space on a long bench that ran along one wall, which fortuitously afforded a good view of the door as well as the stairs to the floor above.

Casual glances revealed that his neighbours were soldiers. Carbo’s guts churned, but he slurped at his wine, eager for the confidence that its effects would bring, and listened to every word he could.

To his left, three junior officers were bitching about their centurion. ‘All he cares about is spit and polish,’ moaned one, a fresh-faced
tesserarius
.

‘I know,’ agreed the
signifer
, who was a decade or so older. ‘That bullshit has its time and place, but when we’re facing the fight of our lives, you’d think he could concentrate on other things.’

‘I hear what you’re saying, lads.’ The optio was a tall man with jug ears. ‘But Bassus has been around the block more times than you and I can imagine. Focusing the men’s minds on boring duties like keeping their kit sparkling clean helps them not to think about more worrying things.’

‘Like Spartacus and his fucking army, you mean,’ said the tesserarius heavily.

‘Precisely.’

‘I hope to Hades that Longinus knows what he’s at,’ muttered the signifer. ‘If he doesn’t, we’re all buggered.’

Carbo pricked his ears.

‘Shut your trap,’ growled the optio. ‘You know we’re not supposed to talk about it.’ He glanced to either side, and Carbo busily filled his cup again. Fortuna, please let me hear something, he prayed.

To his disappointment, the officers then began talking about the whores on display. Carbo turned his attention to the group of legionaries on his right, but they were arguing furiously about whose turn it was to order the next round. It appeared to be the turn of a slight soldier with mousy brown hair, although he was denying it, meeting his comrades’ protests and insults with a small, amused smile. The men’s racket was so great that Carbo couldn’t hear what anyone else in the vicinity was saying. He wanted to find another spot where he might be more successful in eavesdropping, but he knew that would look odd. He’d chosen his spot and he had to stick to it.

Catching the eye of a passing serving boy, he ordered more wine and a plate of bread and cheese. The food would line his stomach, and stop him getting too pissed.

‘Well, well. If it isn’t our friend from the restaurant!’

Carbo’s heart sank as he looked up. He managed to pull a grin. ‘You found your way here then?’

‘Seems like it,’ said Felix with a belch, throwing himself down beside Carbo.

‘Where’s your friend?’

‘Gaius? He’s getting the drinks in. It was my job to find a seat. Gods – this place is bloody heaving!’ He leaned towards Carbo, filling the air with wine fumes. ‘Is your mate giving one of the whores a seeing-to?’

‘Yes.’ Carbo’s gaze flickered to the stairs, which were empty.
Hurry up, Navio!

‘Where’d he get the money?’

Carbo thought frantically. ‘We pooled what we had and drew lots. Navio won. It wasn’t a huge amount, but he managed to talk one of the women around. The man has a golden tongue,’ he lied, cursing silently because he’d just blown any chance of sex, at least while Felix was around. He now had to act as if he had very little money.

‘Lucky bastard. I’d love to do the same, but that kind of cash only comes my way on payday. Not that I’m likely to be here the next time that comes around!’ He gave Carbo a knowing grimace. ‘There’s a big fight coming.’

‘I know. Here, have some of my wine while you’re waiting.’ He emptied the dregs from a used cup on the table and filled it to the brim.

‘I don’t mind if I do.’ Felix took a long swallow and smacked his lips with satisfaction. ‘It’s not bad. Better than the vinegar they were serving in the restaurant, eh?’

‘That wouldn’t be hard.’

‘Too true! Felix is the name, lad. What’s yours?’

‘Carbo.’

They nodded at each other in a friendly way. This is weird, thought Carbo. I might have to kill this man in the next few days. Or he me.

‘You look a likely sort. Why aren’t you in the legions?’

He shrugged. ‘I come from a farm. Working the land is all I’ve ever known.’

‘Farming? You can keep it. Too damn boring if you ask me! There’s far more adventure serving in the army.’ Felix’s face darkened. ‘Until the likes of Spartacus come along of course.’

‘Longinus will get the better of him, surely?’

‘The proconsul is not a worker of magic! He only has two legions. The Thracian has upwards of fifty thousand men. That’s poor odds by anyone’s standards.’

Carbo let his face go sour. ‘Is that it then? Longinus will be defeated, as the consuls were?’

It was as if Felix couldn’t help himself. ‘Despite what I said earlier, Longinus is a crafty old bird. He’s got a plan. One that should catch the son of a whore unawares.’

‘Oh?’ said Carbo offhandedly. Inside, his heart had begun to race.

Felix tapped the side of his nose. ‘It’s on a need-to-know basis.’

‘Of course.’ Hiding his fury, he poured more wine.

‘You’re a good man, Carbo, like me. To your health, and mine. To the death of Spartacus and every last one of his shitbag followers!’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Carbo muttered.

Raised voices at the door diverted their attention. A group of legionaries in full battle dress had entered. Directed by an optio, they were splitting into pairs and moving through the room, studying the men at every table.

Carbo’s stomach did a nauseating somersault.
What in the name of Hades do they want?

‘It’s the fucking watch,’ growled Felix.

‘Why are they here?’

‘The usual reason. They’ll be looking for soldiers who are out without a pass.’ He saw Carbo’s blank look and pulled a small wooden tablet from his purse. ‘We all have to have these to leave barracks. If you’re caught without one, it’s ten days in the clink.’

‘Ah.’ But Carbo’s disquiet returned the instant he saw a block-headed legionary talking to the colossus at the door. It was the same soldier who had been outside when he’d gone to the forum. This could be no coincidence. Carbo’s eyes slid to the stairs. Still no sign of Navio.
Damn it!

A figure loomed over them.

‘Gaius! I thought you’d got lost.’ Felix jerked a thumb at Carbo. ‘This is the lad we met earlier. Carbo’s his name.’

Gaius let out a suspicious grunt as he took a seat beside Felix.

‘Hey, come on. He’s been sharing his wine with me.’

‘Hmmm. Where’s his friend?’

‘Screwing one of the whores.’

From the corner of his eye, Carbo could see a pair of legionaries drawing nearer. What made his heart nearly leap out of his chest, however, was the sight of the block-headed soldier weaving his way between the packed tables, studying each man’s face. It would only be moments before he reached them.
He’s looking for me.
Carbo knew it in his gut. He was about to stand when a full cup of wine was shoved in his face. ‘Get that down your gullet.’

‘Thanks.’ Carbo threw it back in one swallow.

‘Jupiter’s cock, you’ve got a thirst on you! Sure you don’t want to join the legions? You’d fit right in.’ Grinning, Felix poured him another.

Again Carbo made to leave, but his plate of bread and cheese arrived. He kept the serving boy as long as he could, fumbling around for the right coins and asking him where the toilets were. It was a waste of effort, because the moment the servant moved on, his place was taken by the block-headed legionary.

‘You’re looking in the wrong place, pal,’ said Felix, truculently waving his pass. ‘We’ve all got one of these. Why don’t you piss off back to the guardhouse and leave us in peace?’

‘Shut your mouth, soldier.’ The gimlet eyes did not waver from their path along the faces lining the bench.

Carbo buried his nose in his cup of wine, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t be noticed.

‘You. Look at me.’

Shit.

‘I’m talking to you, sewer rat!’

‘Back off, you prick,’ said Felix. ‘He’s a civvie.’

‘I want a word with him.’

‘Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?’ demanded Felix, getting to his feet.

‘Keep your damn nose out of this.’

‘He’s a friend of mine, cocksucker. Leave him alone.’

Carbo sensed Felix step forward and shove the block-headed man in the chest. What should
he
do?

‘You stupid bastard! I’ve been watching him all day. He and his mate are loaded down with gold coins. What are two pieces of shit doing with money like that? This one has also had a scribe write a letter to his parents, telling them he’s going on a long journey.’

‘Eh?’ said Felix stupidly, looking down at Carbo, whose throat had closed with fear.
The prick must have seen Navio pull out his aureus and then followed me from here.
He had no time to think further.