The Forgotten Legion

  'My thanks, Mother.' He planted a kiss on her brow.

  'The gods bless you,' Fulvia said proudly.

  'Dexter?' The moment his mother had turned the cart, Tarquinius hurried after the burly vilicus. 'Some tasty goat's cheese for you.'

  'Show it here!' Dexter reached out with eager hands. He tasted a piece and smiled. 'My compliments to Fulvia. Where did she get this?'

  'She has her ways.' Everyone knew kitchen workers were able to obtain foods that others could only dream of. 'I was hoping . . .'

  'To finish early today?' Dexter guffawed. 'That'd take more than a lump of cheese. Caelius would have my balls if he caught you skiving again.'

  'It's not that.' Tarquinius was risking a beating by speaking out of turn, but the look he had seen on Dexter's face was worrying him. 'I was hoping you might tell me if the master was planning anything. For Olenus.'

  Dexter's eyes narrowed.

  The haruspex had long existed on the periphery of estate life, tolerated only because of his skills with animals and his isolated lifestyle. Like most Romans, Caelius strongly disapproved of anyone practising ancient Etruscan rituals and Dexter was no different.

  Tarquinius sensed the foreman knew something.

  Neither spoke for several moments.

  'Get me some meat and I'll consider it,' Dexter replied. 'Now get back to work.'

  Tarquinius did as he was told. As soon as the wheat was harvested, he would offer to hunt some wolves. Knowing that predators had been decimating flocks on the lower slopes this summer, Caelius might just let him off before the olives and grapes were taken in.

  And once up the mountain, he could easily kill a lamb for Dexter. It was a gamble whether the overseer would keep his side of the bargain, but he had no other way of discovering what Caelius might have planned. After years of Olenus' tutoring, Tarquinius' senses were extremely sharp. His dream had been followed by Dexter's interrogation and he felt sure something was about to happen to the haruspex.

  'Put some energy into it!' Dexter cracked his whip. 'You're the one who wanted to get back to work early.'

  Tarquinius took hold of a bundle of wheat in his left hand, holding it steady for the scythe. In one smooth movement, he stooped and cut the ripe stalks close to the ground, placed them behind him, turned back and grabbed another bunch. On either side, the men were performing the same rhythmic movement, moving steadily forward into the crop. It was a task Etruscans had been doing here at harvest time for hundreds of years and the knowledge calmed Tarquinius as he worked, imagining his ancestors before the Roman invaders had come.

  Chapter II: Velvinna

  Rome, 70 BC

  Not far from the Forum, seven young nobles picked their way along a dusty side street. Expensive white togas were stained with wine, the result of a prolonged drinking bout. Half the taverns across the seven hills had been visited that day. The men talked in loud, arrogant tones, uncaring who might hear. Slaves armed with cudgels and knives paced behind, torches in hand.

  There was a loud curse as a burly figure at the rear stumbled and fell against the wall of a house. He doubled over and was sick, narrowly missing his leather sandals.

  'Come on!' A thin, clean-shaven man with an aquiline nose and short haircut barked with amusement. 'We have hours more drinking to do!'

  A shutter banged open above. 'Do that somewhere else, you bastard!'

  Wiping vomit from his lips, the big noble stared up into the darkness. 'I am an equestrian of the Republic. Puke where I want. Now piss off unless you want a good beating!'

  Intimidated by the speaker's rank and his bodyguards, the householder quickly withdrew.

  There were roars of laughter from the drunken men.

  It was a foolish person who took on a group of the nobility. All citizens were supposedly equal, but Rome was really ruled by an elite of senators, equestrians or equites, and the richest landowners. Together the families that made up the aristocracy formed a clique that was virtually impossible to join, except with great wealth. A few individuals from this small class controlled the Republic's fate.

  The burly man retched again. 'Bloody plebeians,' he said, placing a meaty hand on his companion's shoulder. 'Take it easy, old friend. My legs aren't working too well.'

  'Plebs are good for little,' agreed his companion. 'Except manual labour and the army.'

  Most of his companions smiled, but the stocky redhead at the front spoke impatiently. 'Get a move on! Still got to reach the Lupanar!'

  The nobles perked up at the mention of Rome's most famous brothel.

  Its specialities were known throughout Italy. Even the drunkest ones looked interested.

  'Never happy unless you have a screw, eh Caelius?' the lean man replied, a slight edge to his voice.

  'Best whorehouse in the city. You should try it some time.' Caelius rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 'Nowhere better for beautiful women after a skinful.'

  'Just had a new delivery of slaves from Germania, apparently.' The big noble cleared his throat. 'But I need more wine first!'

  'Then the whorehouse!' Caelius clapped him on the arm.

  'If I can still get it up!'

  'And me!' The oldest of the group, who was forty-five, laughed.

  'Coming? Or does your wife need you at home?'

  The lean man smiled without rancour. He 'd heard the taunt many times before. It stemmed partly from jealousy of his wife 's proud lineage and partly from his devotion to her. But no drunken comment could come close to upsetting him. The whole group knew the noble for his restraint and composure and he wasn't about to spoil that impression.

  'If the women are really so good looking, I might be tempted. But they're more likely to be pox-ridden hags!'

  The others laughed, eager to please their powerful friend. This was a politician who had survived the bloody purges by Sulla, the successor to the first co-dictators of Rome, Cinna and Marius. Despite many threats, he had refused to divorce his wife, the daughter of an enemy of Sulla's. After months of pleading by the lean man's family and its supporters, Sulla had reversed his death sentence. The dictator's prediction that Rome's nobility would eventually be overthrown by him had been forgotten, and the ambitious equestrian was now one of the most prominent young men in the public eye.

  'Bugger one of the boys then,' Caelius snapped. 'Leave the women to us.'

  The noble rubbed his aquiline nose. 'Thought they were all at your house.'

  Caelius' fists clenched.

  'Leave it, you two. We are all friends here,' said Aufidius, his normally jovial face serious. A stout figure, he was popular with everyone for his good nature.

  Always the politician, the lean man shrugged. 'I have no wish to quarrel further.'

  'What do you say, Caelius? Shall we leave this bad feeling behind?'

  Biting his lip with fury, the redhead nodded. 'Very well.'

  The tone was insincere, but it was enough for Aufidius, who turned to the group. 'Where 's the nearest hostelry?'

  'Opposite side of the Forum. Behind the temple of Castor.' The burly equestrian weaved to the front. 'Follow me.'

  A short time later they were all seated at a table in a stone-walled tavern, its air reeking of cheap wine and sweat. Rush torches guttered from brackets, blackening the walls and casting long, dancing shadows. The inn was typical, with one room on the ground floor and three- or four-storey tenement flats above. Loud conversation filled the air. On some tables games of dice were being played, at others men arm-wrestled for money.

  Despite their retinue of bodyguards, most of the newcomers felt uneasy. This was a far cry from their usual watering holes. Unused to mixing with nobles, many customers were also casting wary glances in their direction.

  'What are you staring at?' Caelius snarled.

  The nearest drinkers quickly looked away.

  With a malicious smile, Caelius jerked his head and the biggest slaves instantly moved to stand behind the curious citizens. When he nodded again, they haule
d two outside while the remainder stood guard by the entrance. The men's friends sat helplessly as screams carried inside. Even the huge doorman kept his mouth shut.

  'You'll win no friends like that, Caelius,' commented the lean man.

  'Who needs scum as friends?'

  'Beat plebs when necessary.' He glanced at the door. 'Otherwise let them be.'

  'Always know best, don't you?'

  'These people are not slaves.'

  'Equestrians can do as they wish.'

  'If you want them to support you for a position in the Senate, keep behaving like that.'

  Caelius curled his lip, but had no reply.

  'We equites are the most powerful people in the strongest state in the world. Those men knew that already, Caelius. Rule them through respect, not fear.'

  There were nods of agreement but the redhead scowled.

  'Is there nowhere better round here?' Aufidius lowered his voice slightly. 'This place is a shithole.'

  Most turned to Caelius, the self-elected expert on brothels.

  'I've had better horse piss and the clientele are low class too. But it's only a short walk to the Lupanar,' said Caelius, satisfied to be the centre of attention again. He drained his beaker. 'Let's have a few here. Then we can give some blonde whores a good seeing to!'

  Everyone nodded, with the exception of the lean man.

  'I'll be going home after this.'

  'What? Fading on us?' The burly equestrian refilled his friend's cup and shoved it along the table, spilling wine.

  'I have to prepare for a debate in the Senate tomorrow.'

  'Genius flows better after a night in the saddle!' Aufidius made an obscene gesture to gales of laughter.

  'I want to be a quaestor next year, my friend. Such positions don't just fall into one 's lap.' As an assistant to the senior magistrates, the lean man would have the opportunity to learn much about the intricacies of the Republic's legal system, perhaps even to manage some of the public finances. It would be valuable political experience, preparing him for the rank above, the praetorship.

  'Jupiter's balls, will you lighten up?' sneered Caelius, aware that without a powerful sponsor, he had no chance of election to such a post.

  'The man has a point,' admitted Aufidius. 'Once in the magistracy, nights like this won't happen too often.'

  'I'm aware of that.'

  'Then stay out with us!'

  'I would rather decide the path of the Republic. You can all screw the night away.'

  'You're not the only one with an important job.'

  'Forgive me,' he said quickly. 'I meant no insult.'

  'Did you not?' Caelius gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white. 'Not a quaestor yet. You're still an equestrian, like us! Arrogant prick!'

  The lean man's stare became icy and the pair locked eyes.

  'Come now, Caelius,' Aufidius interjected. 'Sooner a whore soothes your brow, the better!'

  The redhead forced a smile.

  The other's eyes remained stony.

  'It's Caelius' balls need soothing more than anything!'

  Most laughed at the joke.

  The equites continued drinking and talking, but the convivial air had been lost. Eventually conversation petered out altogether. In the tavern's din, it was noticeable only to those at the table.

  'Who's for the Lupanar?' Aufidius drained his cup to a chorus of approval.

  Following Caelius, the group weaved out on to the rutted surface of the street. Two prone bodies lay in the dirt a few steps from the door.

  Caelius kicked the nearest in the belly. 'Won't forget us in a hurry.'

  The lean man pursed his lips in disapproval.

  They had not gone far when Caelius collided with a young girl hurrying through the semi-darkness. She was knocked to the ground and a basket of meat and vegetables went flying.

  Recognising a slave by the light wrist chains, Caelius backhanded her across the face as she got up. 'Watch where you're going! Clumsy bitch!'

  The girl fell back into the dried mud with a cry, her worn shift riding up slim, shapely legs.

  'She meant no harm, Caelius,' said Aufidius, helping her up.

  The young woman was about seventeen, very pretty, with dark hair and blue eyes. Uneasy in the presence of nobles, she bobbed her head in thanks.

  'Sorry, Master,' she mumbled, turning to leave.

  Caelius was having none of it. He had seen how attractive she was. Grabbing the front of the light woollen shift, he ripped it to the waist, revealing a pert pair of breasts. The girl cried out in terror and embarrassment, but Caelius' blood was up. He tore the dress completely off her shoulders.

  She backed away and was instantly blocked by two of the others. Aware they could not help, the bodyguards moved discreetly into the shadows. There was no one else around to help a lone slave. From dusk to dawn, Rome's streets were the province of the lawless. Only the foolhardy ventured out without guards. Or a slave sent on an errand.

  'Please, Master.' The girl's voice trembled. 'I meant no harm.'

  Caelius grabbed her arm. 'This won't take long.'

  There was a murmur of agreement. Only the lean man and Aufidius remained silent.

  The girl moaned with fear.

  'Let her go.'

  'What did you say?' said Caelius incredulously.

  'You heard me.'

  'Rot in Hades!' Shaking with anger, Caelius took a step forward. 'She 's only a damn slave.'

  The lean man plucked a long-bladed dagger from inside his toga. 'I am sick of you.' He held it nonchalantly by the tip. 'Do as I say.'

  Caelius' eyes darted to the bodyguards.

  Instantly the knife was poised to throw. 'I can put this through your heart before they come five paces.'

  'Calm yourself, my friend,' said Aufidius, looking worried. 'No point anyone getting hurt.'

  He smiled. 'That depends on Caelius.'

  The rest watched the argument unfold. It had been brewing for months, and none of them wanted to oppose the powerful and ambitious noble.

  Scowling furiously, Caelius released the girl.

  The lean man beckoned her over. 'Enjoy the Lupanar,' he said, gesturing commandingly down the street.

  'He disapproves of two lowlife citizens getting a beating, then stops an equestrian screwing a slave?' spat Caelius in an undertone. 'The prick is going soft. Or mad.'

  'Neither.' Aufidius shook his head. 'He is far too shrewd.'

  'What then?'

  Aufidius ignored the question, clapping the redhead jovially on the back. 'It's time for more wine!'

  Caelius let himself be led away and the others followed meekly, glad the argument had been settled without bloodshed.

  It would not always be so.