'What do we do, Father?' t.i.tus asked; his left hand had a firm grip of the hair of a man kneeling in front of him and his right hand held a blade to his throat.

'Nothing hasty; keep your prisoner alive and safe and in full view of those c.u.n.ts.' Vespasian stared at the two men, just a hundred paces away; one held a bow ready to release an arrow at him whilst the other held a squirming small figure by the throat and grinned. Domitian's shrieks of fear and protest echoed around the valley; his pony lay dead halfway down the hill close to the body of t.i.tus' horse.

'Give us one good reason why we shouldn't fillet the boy,' the man holding Domitian shouted.

Vespasian stepped forward and held out his hands to show that he was unarmed. 'If you do then things will go badly for your friend here.'

'What if he ain't our friend? What if we really don't like him?'

'What if we really don't care for the boy? What if we could well afford to lose a slave born on the estate? A slave we haven't even had to pay for.'

'Slave? If this is a slave then you're far too generous with your clothing; his tunic is very finely spun.'

'I like my boys to be well dressed; now I suggest we have a simple exchange of prisoners and be on our separate ways.'

'I'm not a slave,' Domitian shrieked; his high voice sharp with indignation. 'Tell them to let me go, Father, and then crucify them.'

'Father, eh?' the man holding Domitian said with a leer, picking the boy up off his feet and looking closely at his face. 'Well, well; looks like we've struck lucky, Tralles.'

'It certainly does, Cadmus,' his bow-wielding companion agreed, 'it certainly does.'

'So that leaves us in a very interesting position, I'd say. I wonder what those fine gentlemen up the hill think.'

Vespasian took another few paces forward. 'Where do you come from and what do you want?'

'I don't think that you're in the position to be asking us questions,' Cadmus observed, allowing Domitian's feet to touch the ground again. 'But seeing as you did ask, we want you to release our mate and then we'll start talking about how much you're prepared to pay for this little runt.'

'If you think that I would be that stupid then we could be here for quite some time. Here's what I'm prepared to do: you release my son and I'll release your mate.'

'And how do we profit from that?'

'With your lives. Harm my son and you'll be dead within a hundred heartbeats; sorry, you'll be caught in that time and then you'll start dying. You'll be dead within five hours, perhaps a few more.'

Cadmus laughed, hollow and without mirth. 'You'll not catch us; once we're across the gully and on that hill we'll travel much faster than you ever could.'

'I'm sure you will if you get across the gully; but can you do that before the dogs catch you? Unless I'm completely mistaken, you're on foot; you won't make it and you'll suffer a very unpleasant last few hours.'

Cadmus looked at his companion whose bow began to waver as if he were not sure where to aim it.

Vespasian pressed his case, taking advantage of their uncertainty. 'So, it's like this: touch the boy and you're dead, release him and one of you will live whilst the other will have a swift death.'

The two brigands stared back up the hill frowning as if they had not heard correctly.

'That's right,' Vespasian said, 'my terms have just gone up; because you seem unable to come to a sensible decision one of your lives is now forfeit and that'll be the slowest of you.' He pointed to Pollux still straining on his leash. 'I'll tell you what: I'll make things easier for you. t.i.tus, bring our friend here.'

t.i.tus brought the prisoner to his father who, without hesitation, pulled his knife from his scabbard and, yanking the man's hair back, ripped his throat open and then stood, holding him up so his companions could see as the blood poured forth. 'He was lucky,' Vespasian shouted, 'because that was an easy death.'

This was too much for the brigands who turned and fled, dropping Domitian on his a.r.s.e and loosing a wild shot that buried itself in the ground ten paces in front of Vespasian.

Magnus slipped Pollux's leash and the hound bounded off down the hill, barking deeply and accelerating at a considerable pace as Vespasian, Sabinus and t.i.tus reached for their horses' reins, remounted and moved off in a single motion. Magnus hurtled after them on foot.

One glance at the four-legged hunter behind them was enough for Cadmus and Tralles to start hauling at one another, trying to make the other fall behind. With Vespasian, Sabinus and t.i.tus in pursuit, Pollux sped past Domitian, who was threatening all manner of high-pitched retribution to his erstwhile captors, and quickly gained on the two fleeing brigands, now just twenty paces from the gully.

With a backhanded swing, Tralles brought his bow cras.h.i.+ng across the bridge of Cadmus' nose, sending him, with a terrified howl, tumbling to the ground and, within a few quickening heartbeats, right into the jaws of Pollux.

Whether the hound had sensed, and therefore been angered by, the worry that Cadmus had caused his master and his master's friends or whether its canine mind had set itself on some course of revenge for the harm done to its companion or whether it was just that its blood was up after the fury of another chase was uncertain; what was certain, however, was the viciousness with which Cadmus was attacked. Not even in the circus had Vespasian witnessed such a blur of claw and jaw as the brigand was bitten, torn, mauled and ripped to the accompaniment of human and b.e.s.t.i.a.l cries of pain and anger, respectively, that were so similar and intense as to meld perfectly until it was impossible to tell man from hound as one complemented the other in macabre harmony.

Vespasian sped down the hill. 'See to your brother, t.i.tus,' he shouted as he pa.s.sed his younger son whooping and clapping at the sight of the blood and flesh flying from the two beings joined in the frenzied and savage dance of hunter and prey. 'Call Pollux off, Magnus!'

Magnus whistled as he ran, the notes rising and falling, but to no avail as they did not penetrate the noise emanating from the hound and its victim. It was Sabinus who got there first but, as he dismounted, Pollux briefly took his attention away from a writhing Cadmus to turn and roar a warning at him not to interfere; Sabinus did not need to be told twice nor did Vespasian, once he arrived, feeling it wise not to try to do anything whilst waiting for Magnus to get there other than watch the beast gnaw, with satisfied guttural growls, on the forearm of the screaming Cadmus as he held it over his face to protect what was left of it.

'Off, Pollux! Off!' Magnus yelled as he came panting down the hill; he tried another shrill whistle that this time seemed to penetrate the hound's consciousness as it began to cease. 'Get off him, you disobedient dog.' Magnus reached down and grabbed Pollux's collar, hauling him off the mangled Cadmus who, apart from his boots, was now as good as naked, his clothes b.l.o.o.d.y rags and his skin shredded and smeared in gore; he was, though, unbelievably, still alive and stared in horror, with his one remaining eye, at the dripping jaws of Pollux who was being reprimanded as if he were a puppy who had peed on his master's foot.

'You do as you're told next time, you bad boy,' Magnus scolded, smacking his dog on the muzzle causing it to whimper and hang its head, looking up at its master with sorrowful eyes.

Sabinus looked to where Tralles was making his way swiftly up the hill and away. 'Do you think Pollux could catch him, Magnus?'

'Don't,' Vespasian said before Magnus could reply. 'I gave my word that one of them would live.'

Sabinus grunted. 'As you wish; it was your son that was in danger.'

Vespasian knelt down next to Cadmus and asked conversationally: 'What were you doing on my estate, Cadmus?'

Although obviously in great pain, Cadmus formed his ruined face into a sneer.

Vespasian sighed, irritated; he stuck a finger into a rip in Cadmus' cheek and pulled, tearing it open even further. 'Do you remember what I said just now about you having a very painful last few hours? Well, there's a taste of it. Now, I'll ask you again: what were you doing on my estate?'

'Hunting.' Cadmus spat out the word.

'An expensive and painful trip.'

'As it will prove to be for you.'

'I doubt it.'

'Oh, but I don't; not once the Cripple comes back to this area and hears of this. He'll avenge me and he's a very patient man the Cripple is; he doesn't mind if things don't move fast because he can't either. So speed is never an issue for him, you see; he'll take his time.'

'Which is more than you will,' Vespasian observed as t.i.tus arrived with Domitian.

Immediately the boy leapt forward, not towards his former captor but at Vespasian, landing on his back and beating him about the head and shoulders. 'You would have let them kill me! You didn't try to buy my life!'

t.i.tus pulled him off as he shouted accusations and tried to claw at his father's face.

Vespasian stood, turned and slapped the boy about the ears until he stopped his noise. 'Listen, son; it was your pride that put you in the greatest danger. I could have made them believe that you were an unimportant slave despite your dress, but you just couldn't bear it, could you? No, you just had to let them know how important you were and in doing so upped the stakes. We could have had a very neat little exchange of prisoners if you had kept your mouth shut but you just couldn't, could you? You couldn't see beyond the immediate present and your pride wouldn't allow people, people who don't even matter, to think that you were a slave. Therefore, you forced me into a position where I had to out-bluff them and that could have gone very, very wrong and you would have been the first to die, you stupid little boy. You've as much sense of strategy as one of Magnus' dogs! And that's being kind.'

The vehemence of the diatribe shocked Domitian into silence.

'I hope that one day you'll be able to look back at this and learn from it.' Vespasian turned back to Cadmus. 'I'll forego the pleasure of your lingering death because I think that you might just have been instrumental in teaching my son an important lesson.'

'Very gracious of you,' Cadmus whispered, the pain evidently now flooding through him as the shock of the attack wore off. 'But don't expect the Cripple to hold that into account; he's not known for his mercy as none was ever shown to him.'

Vespasian knelt again, drawing his knife. 'And if I ever come across him he certainly won't be receiving any from me.'

'Let me, Father,' Domitian demanded whilst t.i.tus held him back.

Vespasian turned to his younger son. 'You will do nothing, Domitian, other than what you are told and now I'm telling you to keep silent.' He put the knife to Cadmus' chest and rammed it through his heart.

The last of the scalded bone fragments were consigned to the urn atop the heap of fine ashes and Sabinus replaced the lid. Using a taper, Vespasian melted wax so that it fell around the rim of the urn, sealing it. Once the wax had solidified, Sabinus placed the urn into the opened tomb and then began a series of prayers before that too was closed and Vespasia's pa.s.sing was complete. The brothers could then walk away, their duty to their mother done.

But Vespasian had one more thing to do in honour of his mother. 'Hormus,' he called to his slave standing with the rest of the household, 'come here.'

'Yes, master,' Hormus replied, as if he was reviewing in his head incidents in which it could be said that he had been at fault that day.

As Hormus approached, Vespasian drew a scroll and what looked like a piece of felt from the fold of his toga. 'Hormus, you have been my slave for fourteen years now and served me faithfully.'

Hormus' eyes filled with tears as he and all present could guess what was about to happen.

'You have pa.s.sed the age of thirty and are now eligible for manumission.' Vespasian handed Hormus the scroll that confirmed his freedom and the felt hat, the piletus, which was the physical sign of it. 'Take these in honour of my mother and may you, in her memory, carry on serving me with the same faithfulness as a freedman as you did when a slave.'

Hormus fell to one knee and kissed his master's hand. 'I shall, master, as all the G.o.ds are my witnesses, I shall.'

Vespasian stroked Hormus' hair and then helped him up. 'Your first duty as a freedman is to supervise a slave to pack my things as we're leaving for Rome.'

'Yes, master; it'll be my pleasure.'

Vespasian pointed to the five Arab greys grazing in the paddock next to the house, his pride and joy since receiving them as a gift, five years previously. 'And tell Pallo to have the stable slaves ready my horses for the journey.'

'Indeed, master; will they be going back to the Greens' stable?'

Vespasian beamed at his treasures: 'Yes, and so much the better for some time out in the country. Magnus will see to their return.'

Hormus inclined his head and went about his tasks.

'That was a surprise,' Sabinus said as the rest of the household returned inside.

'He deserved it and I thought that here and at this time was a suitable place to do it.'

'Yes, here was a good place to choose,' Sabinus said, looking around at their land. 'I don't know when I'll get the chance to come back here again, what with my duties in Rome and my estate at Falacrina.'

'I'll come as often as I can to make sure that prayers are spoken over the tombs; and I'm sure that Uncle Gaius will want to come out here as soon as he can to pay his respects to his sister.'

'Once justice has been seen to be done.'

'Indeed, Sabinus; once justice has been seen to be done. We've much to do in the coming days.'

PART II.

Rome and Baiae.

November ad 58March ad 59.

CHAPTER III.

'DEAR BOYS, I shall get over the bruising, and the cuts will heal as will the soreness from the splinters in my ... well, you know where; I've had one of my boys try to remove them all but I think he's missed one.' Gaius helped himself to another consoling honeyed cake, popping half of it into his mouth, and then s.h.i.+fted the position of his ample posterior on the deeply cus.h.i.+oned wicker chair, wincing as he did so. 'But what I'll never get over is the humiliation of it all: left unconscious in the street with a torch ...' Gaius shook his head unable to complete the sentence. 'As, apparently, some wag said: like a crude, lopsided model of the Pharos lighthouse protruding from its island in Alexandria.'

Vespasian and Sabinus leant back slightly in their chairs as a blond-haired youth of outstanding beauty set down another platter of cakes on the table, fresh from the oven by the smell of them; the slave's short tunic exposed more than was decent as he leant over.

'That will be all, Ludovicus,' Gaius said, eying the revealed flesh appreciatively before resuming his outraged expression and devouring the other half of the cake. 'It's all round the Senate and beyond; I'm a laughing stock. I've even heard people refer to me as the Pharos behind my back!'

'And there was no question that it was Terpnus who did it?' Vespasian asked once the slave had withdrawn to wait upon his master by the lamprey pond in the middle of Gaius' courtyard garden in his house on the Quirinal Hill.

'None. He was wearing a wig and had a cloth tied around his face but I recognised his voice I'd just been listening to it for hours. Nero was wearing a curly blond wig and the theatrical mask of a slave in a comedy but he ululated, high-pitched, constantly, like some crazed Fury, if Furies can be male, which I don't think they can. All the others had disguises of varying competence but on such a dark night they were hardly needed; it was their voices that gave them away. But it was Terpnus, may Mars rot him, who committed all the outrages done to my person, including the ...' Unable to vocalise the basest of the outrages, Gaius fortified himself with one of the freshly baked cakes and washed it down with some reviving wine. 'But worst of all was that I was prevented from seeing my sister at the end. Did she ask after me?'

'Yes, Uncle,' Sabinus lied; Vespasia had never quite accommodated herself to her brother's lifestyle, although she had found his status very useful.

'Magnus is here with Tigran, master,' Gaius' steward announced from the door leading into the tablinum.

'Send them through, Destrius,' Gaius said through a mouthful of cake, sending crumbs spraying over the table.

Destrius, a few years older than the slave boy waiting upon them and elegantly handsome rather than ravis.h.i.+ngly beautiful, bowed and retired back through the cotton curtains that billowed, after his pa.s.sing, gently in the fading sun.

Within a few moments Magnus came through them with a man of eastern appearance: a dyed and shaped beard, trousers and an embroidered knee-length tunic with a loose belt, studded with silver discs, from which hung a curved dagger in an ivory and silver scabbard; soft calf-skin slippers and a cap of the same material, covering his ears, completed his attire. Judging by the richness of the rings on his fingers, Vespasian could see that Tigran had done well since taking over as the patronus, the leader, of the South Quirinal Crossroads Brotherhood from Magnus seven years previously.

'The horses are back with the Greens,' Magnus said straightaway to Vespasian, forgetting his manners, such was his excitement at the prospect of his favourite team competing in the Circus Maximus again for his beloved Green racing faction after a rejuvenating country break.

'We'll talk about that later,' Vespasian said, indicating with a nod to his uncle the real reason why he had been summoned.

'Oh! Yes; right you are, sir.'

'Magnus! Good to see you,' Gaius boomed, not getting up.

'And you, sir,' Magnus replied, embarra.s.sed by his misplaced enthusiasm.

'And, Tigran, thank you for coming.'

Tigran touched the palm of his right hand to his heart. 'I cannot ignore the summons of my patron.' He nodded at the Flavian brothers. 'Senator Vespasian and Prefect Sabinus.'

'Sit down, gentlemen, and help yourselves to cakes.' Gaius signalled to the slave boy. 'Wine for my guests, Ludovicus.'