Rome: The Emperor's Spy: Rome 1 (42 page)

Math said, ‘I’m tired. My ribs ache and I want to sleep. Constantin will help me do my exercises later, when the sun’s less hot.’

That was more conversation than he’d offered in the entire month of their stay. The physician straightened, slowly. A smile transformed his face. ‘Then naturally I will leave you to rest and expect to see you tomorrow, restored to full health, ready to race for your emperor. Make sure you complete the exercises before tomorrow’s dawn. Good day to you both.’ He gathered up his equipment and departed, striding to the chimes of his copper bowls.

Constantin drifted ghost-like to fill the physician’s place. ‘Two men came fast on tired horses a short while ago,’ he murmured. ‘They are here now. Nero has entered the garden. The two others are with him, stinking of horse-sweat.’ Constantin wrinkled his nose. ‘One is armed, like a guard. The other is lame on his left leg and his right shoulder—’

‘Pantera!’ Math was a good deal fitter than the Greek doctor realized. He vaulted out of bed and across the room and thrust his face against the screen in the one spot where each eye could line up with a slot and he could view the whole garden.

The place was washed in buttery afternoon light that roasted the pink marble to the colour of oranges. In the garden’s centre a wide oval pool lay sheathed in water lilies and flowering grasses. Dressed in full toga with amber beads ranged in cascading layers about his neck and wrists, Nero leaned out over it, holding titbits between his fingers for the delicate, kissing carp.

Behind him, with his back to the balcony, Pantera stood awkwardly to attention beside a small, wiry, dark-haired man wearing the scale mail and iron-banded greaves of a watchman. The plumes in his helmet were yellow and white, chopped small, so that they stood up like a boar’s tail, adding nothing to his height. Math couldn’t see his face, but he stood at ease with his arms clasped loosely behind him and looked far more relaxed than either Pantera or Nero.

Hearing what went on in the garden was even harder than seeing it; birds sang in giant cages just below the balcony and the nearby sea roared its muted counterpoint. Today, to make life more difficult still, a solitary gull mewed in the harbour just down the hill so that Math had to screw his eyes half shut and send all his thoughts down the line of his hearing to sort out the words from the background chaos.

‘… letter does not constitute proof of any kind. Akakios may well have written it specifically in order to draw the scum to the surface of their cesspit and destroy them. You acted beyond your remit. We
will
have restitution.’

Nero stood, wiping his fingers on a towel. His movements were stiffly truncated, not at all the painted languor of the theatre. He spun round and thrust his fist at Pantera. ‘Read the letter aloud. We would hear it again before we sentence you.’

‘As my lord commands.’ Pantera gave a brief bow and drew a scroll from under his arm. Looking down from the balcony, Math could only see the back of his head, but he didn’t need to see his face to know that it would be a model of humility, nor his eyes to know how angry he was: two angry men in one place and one of them the emperor. His palms began to sweat on Pantera’s behalf even as the steady voice floated up to the balcony.

‘
The moment of our joined endeavour grows near. The men will gather in Rome on the day before the blaze must be lit. They will need somewhere to sleep, to eat, to drink – and to be hidden. Find a suitable location close to the river. We shall meet there on tomorrow’s dawn after the second trumpet to make ready
.’

Pantera raised his head. ‘Akakios signed this letter with his own hand. A gold coin bearing my lord’s countenance accompanied it. The coin was used to rent a sizeable cattle barn by the river in which the conspirators held their tryst this morning.’

‘That is not proof,’ Nero said mulishly.

‘It’s not,’ agreed Pantera. He rolled the scroll and tucked it under his arm. ‘But it’s the best we were ever likely to get. If it makes any difference, I, too, was sure someone else was the source of the infamy. But we followed Akakios and saw him meet Poros, driver of the Blues, and there was no doubt—’

‘We will
not
believe Poros a traitor.’ Nero hurled his towel across the floor. None of the slaves made a move to pick it up. Pantera continued in the same even voice with which he had started.

‘My lord, both men spoke of starting the fire, and of the preparations they would make to ensure it destroyed Rome, but I think perhaps my lord would best hear that at first hand from someone unimpeachable, that he may know the truth when he hears it.’

‘Is there such a man in all Rome?’ Nero asked, bitterly.

Pantera turned to his left and drew the watchman forward. ‘My lord, allow me to present Appius Mergus, centurion of the first century, the first cohort of the Watch. In all of Rome, there is no man more loyal to my lord. Together with his aquarius, he accompanied me as witness. He took no part in the violence that followed, but can report to you accurately what he heard.’

‘Then he should do so.’ Nero’s voice was high again, and querulous.

‘My lord.’ The man named Appius Mergus sank to one knee, unbuckled his sword and laid it at Nero’s feet. ‘I swear by the genius of my emperor that I have served Rome loyally for twenty-two years, first in the legions and then in the Guard. In the name of Jupiter Best and Greatest, I further swear that I hold office in the emperor’s name and would not besmirch it, and that I hold as sacred my role as witness.’

Mergus’ voice held no trace of fear, which meant, in Math’s opinion, that either he was immune to fear or he didn’t know the way Nero adored brave men on some days and, on others, was so afraid of their courage that he had them slaughtered out of hand.

‘Get up.’ Nero snapped his fingers. ‘We will hear you give your testimony directly and we will establish the veracity of it as you speak. A man’s eyes speak the truth, whatever lies his voice might spill.’

‘As my lord commands.’ Mergus stood fluidly, leaving his sword belt on the ground. ‘My aquarius and I were on watch at the cattle market this morning when this man’ – he gestured towards Pantera – ‘made himself known to us as an agent of our emperor, to whom we owed the duty of rank. He ordered that we act as witnesses to an execution. He led us a short distance away to an abandoned cattle barn, wherein a man waited, and was presently joined by another. Akakios was the first. We did not, at that point, know the name of the other. As my lord knows, it was Akakios who died.’

‘That much is true,’ Nero said grimly. ‘We are in possession of his severed head. Continue.’

‘We lay within earshot and overheard these two men discuss their intention to light a fire that would consume the whole of the city. They argued over whether the barn was safe to act as a refuge for their men after the fire was lit. Poros said not, that it would burn with the rest. Akakios claimed it could be made safe if a cistern were to be breached further uphill, so that the water might flood down and inundate the bales of cow hides in the warehouse, thus protecting him.’

‘No!’ Nero slapped Mergus hard across the cheek. The noise cracked like thunder across the garden, frightening the birds. Behind the screen, Math felt Constantin flinch. He held himself still, as he thought his father would have done.

‘The traitors cannot breach a water tower!’ Nero screamed. ‘The loyal men of our Watch protect the city’s water with their lives. No rabble, however large, could destroy them.’

‘They can if the officers order their men elsewhere,’ Mergus said grimly, and for the first time Math heard passion tremble his voice. ‘Akakios said he owned the prefect of the Watch.’

Nero let his hand fall slowly. ‘The prefect is dead, I presume?’

Pantera said, ‘Not yet, lord. We don’t know who else Akakios may have suborned. To arrest one is to alert them all. And we can’t be sure of any man’s loyalty now. Save this one, whom I have brought.’

‘You are so sure of him?’ Nero jabbed a vicious finger at Mergus. ‘Kneel!’

Mergus knelt.

‘Look into the eyes of your emperor and tell us that you are loyal to our body and soul, that you have not sold yourself to Akakios or his cause.’

Math gripped tight to the gaps in the screen. If ever Nero had looked like a man about to kill, it was now.

‘My lord, with a glad heart I do so swear. I have never – and will never – assault the person of my emperor. I have never taken gold, or promise, or threat from Akakios, or any of his men. My life is given to your protection, and Rome’s. I would die before I saw my city burn.’

‘As you should.’ Nero turned his back on Mergus and Pantera and leaned over his pond. The perfect surface showed the moment when he began to weep. Ghost-grey carp kissed his tears as they fell.

A long time later, when a slave had brought him a rinsed towel for his face, Nero turned back to the waiting men. ‘He speaks the truth.’ And then, at Pantera’s nod, ‘You were right to kill Akakios. All that remains is to execute the prefect, appoint a replacement, and Rome is safe.’

‘My lord knows that is not so.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because there is a third man, the “friend” Akakios spoke of, to whom the ninety give their loyalty and to whom Poros of the Blues will have returned with news of Akakios’ death. This is the man who hates Rome and Jerusalem enough to see them both destroyed to bring about his Kingdom of Heaven. He must be found and stopped.’

‘Then you will find him.’

‘My lord, I will try.’

‘You have our seal. Use it in our name. Rome must not burn.’ Nero snatched up Mergus’ belt and drew the short sword in a flicker of fast light, laying the tip on Pantera’s shoulder. ‘Use the loyal men of the first cohort to help you fight such flames as may arise. Do this, and you will have your heart’s greatest desire. Fail and … it would be best for us all that you not fail.’

Without warning, Nero raised his eyes, so that Math, straining to hear, found his gaze locked by his emperor’s. It lasted no more than a heartbeat and there was no lust to be read in it, no pity, no real malice, but its very emptiness left Math clutching at the screen, his bowels made uncertain and his palms wet with sweat.

He clung there still as Nero left the garden, so that when Pantera, too, looked up and met his eyes, with a glance that held pity and a promise together … that was when Math found his legs would no longer hold him and the tears he had held back since the crash in Alexandria could not be stopped by himself, or Constantin, or even the Greek physician summoned back to tend him in the stultifying silken prison of the infirmary.

T
he trumpeter of the Watch marked the first hour after midnight with a burst of brief notes. Hearing it, Seneca moved his numbed buttocks against the hard earth floor, seeking some feeling. The small noise he made soaked into the mud-brick around him and the night fell silent again.

‘When he comes,’ he said to the dark, ‘don’t ask his name. Just let him in.’

Nearby, a woman laughed. ‘You’ve said that every hour for the past three,’ she said. ‘I know what to do if he comes. What if he does not?’

‘He asked for this meeting. He’ll come.’ Seneca’s voice fell flat in the small room. The woman huffed another laugh but some time later, when they heard footsteps in the narrow alley outside, she was standing before the knock came at the door.

Thinly, Seneca said, ‘If it’s not for me …’

‘Then you will be privy to my business.’ The woman’s voice was musical in the dark. ‘You’ll not see anything you haven’t before.’ She pushed a way through the beaded curtain that made the single room into two and walked unerringly to the door.

It cracked ajar and a murmured conversation broke the hush. The woman padded back, her naked feet scuffing the earth. Seneca felt her fresh amusement before she spoke. ‘They are two. Both for you. I have no names, but the taller will come in and the small, dark one will wait outside the door as a guard. Already, this night brings great wonders; my door has never been guarded before.’

To honour her guest, she struck iron to flint and lit the saved stub of a candle. The newborn light was kind to her face, easing away the decades, making her the woman Seneca had first met when both were young. She stepped back and their guest parted the curtain and ducked into the room.

‘Pantera.’ Seneca stood uncertainly. ‘You brought company.’

Pantera stank of horse-sweat and harness oil and dust. He jerked his head backwards. ‘I brought Mergus, centurion of the Watch. He’ll keep us safe. May I come in?’

‘Of course.’

The candle showed the single small bed, big enough for one man and half a woman. Pantera sat on the edge and then, with a glance for the woman’s approval, lay back with his hands looped behind his head. When no one spoke, he closed his eyes and there was a moment when he looked as if he slept. His face was not quiet in repose.

‘We have wine,’ Seneca said. ‘Would you like some?’

‘Watered. Please.’

‘You intend to stay awake after this?’

‘We have the rest of tonight and all of tomorrow to find the man I seek. The dog star rises two hours after dusk tomorrow. I intend to stay awake as long as necessary to keep Rome from burning.’

Seneca had brought the wine from his own cellar. It was heresy to water it, but Pantera’s tone did not allow for dissent. At Seneca’s signal, the woman furnished two beakers and a jug of well water and took herself to the far side of the curtain so they could pretend privacy. She left the candle stub on an upturned barrel.

‘She’s a friend,’ Seneca said, speaking to Pantera’s raised brows. ‘We can talk safely here. I have some food. Here …’ From beneath the bed, he brought a tray of goat’s cheese dipped in crushed hazel nuts with slices of lemon, a ham and a small clay pot of olives. He laid it on the barrel by the candle and wished he had brought more so that it might not seem as if he had doubted there would be two eating, not one. ‘Have you news?’

‘No, but I need something from you, something I didn’t want to put in writing.’