The Road to Rome (31 page)

Pausing to ensure that her cleavage wasn’t too prominent, she entered.

Antonius was leaning against one of the walls, tracing his fingers over the depiction of a woman sitting astride a man. Jovina sat at her desk, arms folded in clear disapproval. Her gaze met Fabiola’s, and immediately slipped away.

Fabiola’s heart banged off her ribs. Jovina’s body might be frail and weak, but her mind was as sharp as ever. The bitch already suspected something was up. What would she think of Antonius’ presence at this time of night, except that she and he were lovers? Worse still, who would the old madam tell? Keeping her face neutral, Fabiola raised an enquiring eyebrow.

‘He won’t even speak to anyone else,’ Jovina muttered. ‘Insisted I send all the girls away.’

Antonius suddenly noticed her. ‘Fabiola!’ he cried, moving away from the support of the wall. His wavering stance showed that his drinking session had continued since he’d left that morning. ‘Just been looking at a good position,’ he leered. ‘Fancy trying it?’

Jovina could scarcely conceal her interest now.

Fabiola bowed, trying to keep things formal. ‘Marcus Antonius. It’s an honour to have you visit the Lupanar.’

‘I should damn well think so,’ Antonius slurred. Turning around to pick out his favoured sex act, he nearly fell over. ‘Where is it?’ He cursed, and then pointed in triumph. ‘That’s the one I want.’

Fabiola was struggling not to panic. ‘I’m sure one of the girls would love to satisfy you in whatever way you please,’ she purred, taking his arm.

Antonius looked annoyed. ‘What?’ He leaned in closer, covering her in a haze of wine fumes. ‘I want you on top of me, not one of your whores,’ he muttered.

Fabiola shot a look at Jovina, whose face was registering both shock and glee. The emotions vanished at once, but Fabiola had seen them. Her heart sank. Jovina knew, and she couldn’t be trusted to keep the information to herself. Giving in to fate, Fabiola led Antonius to her office. ‘Tell the doormen to get inside, then lock up and go to bed,’ she ordered Jovina. ‘I’ll see Antonius out later.’

‘He’s got no guards with him,’ Jovina muttered, suspicion twisting her face.

‘Do as I say,’ Fabiola shot back, not listening.

The old madam obediently scuttled out from behind her desk. It was then that Vettius arrived bearing a bronze tray with a jug of wine and two glasses. Fabiola cursed silently. As if Jovina needed any more proof that she was involved with the Master of the Horse. This time, the madam had enough presence of mind not to react, but Fabiola’s mind had just been made up.

Jovina had to die. Tonight.

She baulked for an instant at the ruthlessness of it, but then her fear took over. What choice had she? Brutus could not find out about Antonius, under any circumstances. None of the prostitutes would say a word – they were too scared of her – but Jovina was a different kettle of fish. Despite her sale of the brothel, and her illness, not all of her fight was gone. She would try to use the information as leverage. Fabiola knew it. That couldn’t happen.

The doormen wouldn’t turn down another dirty job.

A hand grabbed one of Fabiola’s breasts, dragging her thoughts back to the present.

First Antonius had to leave.

As it turned out, Antonius was incapable of much. Once Fabiola had put a glass of wine in his hand and placed the table between them, he collapsed into a chair and began an incoherent ramble about the latest goings-on in the Senate. Fabiola carefully encouraged him, all the while watching his body language. It wasn’t long before Antonius’ voice died away, and his head fell on his chest. Fabiola didn’t move a muscle. Even when he started to snore, she didn’t stir.

Finally, she judged it safe to move. Opening the door, she found Vettius just outside. Benignus was waiting with him. There was no sign of Jovina or any of the guards. Still she didn’t register that Brutus had arrived without any protection of his own, something no one in his right mind would do at this hour.

‘Safe to move Memor now?’ Vettius asked.

‘Yes. The fool’s asleep.’ She took a deep breath. ‘There’s something else I need you to do.’

They looked at her questioningly.

‘Jovina.’

Vettius’ brow wrinkled. ‘What about her?’

‘She’s got to go.’

At first, neither man understood. Then they saw how serious Fabiola was, and their jaws dropped in unison. ‘Kill her?’ Benignus breathed.

Fabiola nodded.

‘But she’s so old,’ he faltered.

‘Jovina’s a snake in the grass,’ Fabiola hissed. ‘You both know that. She’ll tell Brutus about Antonius.’

They didn’t argue any further. Their mistress knew best, and it wasn’t as if either cared for Jovina in any way. ‘When?’ queried Vettius.

‘Tonight,’ instructed Fabiola. ‘Get rid of Memor first, though. Now.’

They hurried off to do her bidding. Fabiola remained by the door to her office, listening for any signs of Antonius wakening. She was pleased to hear only snores.

Soon the doormen reappeared, carrying the bundled-up blanket
between them. Fabiola had already slipped the bolts on the front door and pulled it open. ‘Be quick,’ she urged.

They hurried towards her.

From Fabiola’s office came the distinctive sound of a glass breaking on the floor.

Like murderers caught in the act, Vettius and Benignus froze.

‘Outside,’ whispered Fabiola frantically.

‘Fabiola?’ Antonius’ voice was sleepy but truculent. ‘Where in Hades have you gone?’

The pair of slaves had half made it out of the doorway when Antonius emerged, rubbing his reddened eyes. Pushing Vettius outside, Fabiola flashed her most brilliant smile. ‘You’ve woken up,’ she trilled. ‘I was just going to get a blanket for you.’

Perhaps it was Antonius’ military training, or her guilty manner, but all signs of drunkenness dropped away from him. ‘Vulcan’s prick! Was that a body?’

For once, Fabiola was at a loss for words.

In a heartbeat, Antonius was by her side. Pulling wide the door, he stared at the two doormen who were spotlit by the torches on either side of the entrance. Like most slaves in such a situation, their feet were rooted to the spot. ‘What have you got there?’ Antonius barked.

There was a pregnant pause.

‘Answer me!’

‘Nothing, sir,’ ventured Benignus. ‘An old blanket.’

Antonius whirled around to Fabiola. ‘Was someone killed here tonight?’

Fabiola struggled not to break down in front of him. Today was proving to be the worst day of her life. Could things get any worse? ‘Yes,’ she muttered.

‘Who?’

‘Nobody. A lowlife who started roughing up one of the girls. He killed my servant as well.’ Fabiola’s grief over Docilosa surged up, out of control. ‘He deserved to die,’ she snarled. ‘Like anyone who crosses me,’ she added in a whisper.

‘What did you say?’

Panicking, Fabiola looked away. ‘Nothing.’

If Antonius had heard her final words, he chose to ignore them for the moment. ‘Whose body is it? Tell me!’

Fabiola quailed at his fierce expression. ‘Memor, the
lanista
.’

Antonius’ eyes widened. ‘An important man. I see your need for secrecy. So you waited until there was no one about, and then ordered your goons to get rid of the evidence. Clever. Except I saw it.’

Fabiola didn’t answer.

Antonius turned back to the doormen. ‘Go on, piss off.’

They goggled at him.

He raised a fist. ‘Beat it!’

Unable to believe their good luck, the pair hoisted their burden and disappeared into the darkness.

Fabiola exhaled slowly, knowing that the danger wasn’t over yet.

Pushing her before him, Antonius shut the door. The bolts slid home with an ominous sound. Straightening, he looked at Fabiola with new respect. ‘Quite the siren, aren’t you? Who’d have thought it?’ he said softly. ‘Come too close, and you’ll end up shipwrecked. Or dumped in a sewer.’ He laughed at his own joke. ‘Should I be worried? After all, it’s not as if I’ve never knocked a woman about.’

Fabiola began to feel afraid. Antonius was a big, powerful man. He could kill her with ease, and there was no one about to stop him. She backed away, but he followed and grabbed her by both arms.

‘A word in your ear.’

Terrified now, Fabiola bent towards him.

‘Before getting any ideas, you should know something. Your little quarrel with Scaevola is no secret to me.’ He smiled at her surprise. ‘Been wondering why things have quietened down on that front? It’s because I told him to back off.’

Fabiola looked at Antonius, dumbstruck. That’s why he’d had no guards with him.

‘The
fugitivarius
knows that I’d kill him if he touched a woman I was fucking,’ Antonius confided amiably. His expression hardened. ‘But if I was tired of her
and
thought she had ideas far above her station? He’d bite my hand off to be slipped from the leash!’

He did hear what I’d said, thought Fabiola. She could hardly breathe. Mithras, she prayed. Help me. There was no response, and her hopes fell away into a dark abyss from which there was no return. She was unsurprised. This was her punishment for all that she had done. In that instant, Fabiola knew also that she didn’t want to die. Not like this.

Antonius took her by the throat and squeezed. His blue eyes glittered cruelly, mocking Fabiola for her weakness. ‘Or I could just strangle you myself.’

Choking, she began to lose consciousness.

Abruptly Antonius relaxed his grip, and Fabiola staggered away. Feeling like a mouse injured by a cat, she waited to see what he’d do next.

‘I’d rather fuck you,’ he ordered. ‘Find a bed.’

Numbly, Fabiola led him away.

Docilosa had been right all along. Why hadn’t she listened? If she had, her servant would still be alive instead of lying cold on a table in the kitchen.

Antonius groped at Fabiola’s crotch, revolting her. Yet she made no effort to stop him.

This was her lot.

Seeing the priestess being thrown out of the Lupanar thoroughly confused Tarquinius. The guards looked most unhappy as their huge companion roughly pushed her away from the entrance. They quailed when she cursed the building and all its inhabitants to Hades. The haruspex was perturbed and intrigued by this. Few people would dare to treat one of Orcus’ followers in such a manner. For it to happen meant that someone – probably Fabiola, as she was in charge – was extremely confident of herself. Long after the priestess’s outline had vanished into the darkness, he sat pondering the significance of what had transpired.

Tarquinius’ conclusion came more from his powers of deduction than any sign from the wind or stars. All kinds of scenarios went through his head, but few made any sense. Docilosa wouldn’t throw her own daughter out in the middle of the night, especially when she had come with a warning. Neither would Jovina, for fear of her new mistress’s reaction. Why would Fabiola do it then? The haruspex dwelt the question for an age, and eventually reasoned that Docilosa had been the woman screaming earlier. Had she been hurt, or even killed? A portent of this might have brought her daughter hurrying over. Arriving too late, the priestess’s reaction would have been extreme, prompting Fabiola to have her thrown out.

Had Memor been the violent customer? What had happened to him?

Before there was any chance of finding answers to these questions,
Tarquinius’ attention was drawn by the noise of footsteps. It sounded as if at least a dozen men were approaching the brothel, but only one man emerged into the arcs of light by the entrance. Weaving from side to side, he drew amused smiles from the guards, who didn’t appear to have noticed anything untoward. The newcomer’s companions stayed in the darkness, making Tarquinius very uneasy. Who were they? He was careful not to move from his position. Hopefully, they wouldn’t notice him.

‘Let me in!’ demanded the powerfully built man. ‘I want to see Fabiola.’

‘Marcus Antonius?’

‘Who else?’ he sneered.

At once the guards opened the portal, allowing the noble to enter.

Tarquinius’ interest in what was going on deepened. Fabiola had
two
lovers then: Decimus Brutus and the Master of the Horse. Given that he hadn’t seen Antonius visit the brothel before, the men probably didn’t know about each other. That meant Fabiola was playing a very dangerous game. Why? Again he scanned the sky, hoping for some information. Could he have been mistaken in his presumption that his disturbing dream involved his murder of Caelius? Perhaps it had happened tonight?

Tarquinius’ hunch became certainty a short time later. The two enormous doormen emerged, carrying a lumpen shape wrapped in a blanket. Fabiola stood by the open door, hurrying them on. Their burden was clearly a human body, and was in all likelihood the man who’d caused someone to scream earlier. Clever, thought the haruspex. Wait until everyone is in bed, and then get rid of the evidence. He was pleased. Fabiola was a woman of some ability.

Tarquinius’ opinion of her was strengthened when a bleary-eyed Antonius appeared in the doorway. After challenging the doormen, he had a muffled conversation with Fabiola. Then, to Tarquinius’ surprise, he let them go. The door immediately closed, preventing any further insights. Drawing the conclusion that he
had
been guided to the Lupanar by his dream, the haruspex grinned. The gods wanted to show him that although there was danger in Rome, Fabiola for one was well able to look after herself.

There was no need for him to watch over her so closely.

Tarquinius had no idea how wrong he was.