The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben (читать книги онлайн полностью без сокращений txt) 📗
Brennus closed his eyes and let blackness take him.
Chapter V: Romulus and Fabiola
Five years later . . .
Rome, spring 56 BC
'Curse you, Romulus. Come quickly! Or you'll get another hiding!'
Gemellus paused in his tirade. A short, fat man with a red face, the merchant was prone to terrible bouts of rage. Sweating heavily, he stood in the large, sunlit courtyard of his house, eyes swivelling frantically. He spotted movement near an ornamental statue positioned between the plants and trees and, moving surprisingly fast, he shoved a podgy ringed hand behind the grinning satyr.
Instead of Romulus, Gemellus pulled out a young girl of about thirteen in a torn tunic. The child was covered in grime, her clothes little more than rags, but her extraordinary beauty was still apparent. Long black hair covered finely boned features that would catch any man's eye. She squealed in pain, but Gemellus held tightly on to her ear.
'Where 's your brother, vixen?' He looked around, expecting to see Romulus nearby. Normally the twins were like each other's shadow.
'I don't know, Master!' Fabiola struggled even harder.
'You are lying!'
'He's supposed be in the kitchen, Master.'
'Like you. But the little bastard's not!' replied the merchant triumphantly. 'So where is he?'
This time, the girl did not answer.
Gemellus slapped Fabiola's face. 'Find him, or I'll whip you both.'
She did not cry. No matter what Gemellus did, she always looked defiant.
Infuriated, the merchant swept a meaty paw at Fabiola but lost his grip.
She dodged easily under another wild swing and ran past the openfronted rooms and banqueting halls forming the sides of the courtyard.
'Tell that useless brat to hurry!' His voice echoed through the house. Angrily, Gemellus eased his bulk on to the edge of a carved marble fountain positioned in the shade against the back wall of the colonnaded garden.
A mosaic reservoir decorated its back; the intricate patterns were designed to be seen as visitors entered and gazed across the atrium, through the open doors of the tablinum.
He trailed a few fingers in the water to wet his brow. Fountains and sanitation were luxuries only the very rich could afford. Gemellus wondered how much longer it would be possible to keep up his extravagant lifestyle. The merchant had no wish to return to his impoverished roots in the insulae.
A shadow cast by the sundial in the middle of the courtyard told Gemellus that it was nearly hora quarta. Noon was still more than two hours off, but the spring air was already as hot as Hades. He cursed loudly, wiping his face with a fold of his grimy tunic. Life was difficult enough without pursuing Velvinna's brats around the villa. Political uncertainty in the Republic and floods of foreign imports had changed the economic climate from bad to worse. Weakened by years of poor leadership and corruption, the Senate had capitulated three years before and allowed Crassus, Pompey and Caesar to form a triumvirate. The move had placed almost complete control of the Republic in the hands of just three men, yet it had done little for stability.
The machinations of an ambitious but disgraced noble by the name of Clodius Pulcher had not helped either. Shunned by the Senate, he had cleverly cultivated popularity in the slums. All Clodius wanted was power, and he would do anything to achieve it. Soon he had a huge base of support amongst the poor, to whom he promised much. Clodius' wily tactics had culminated in his converting from patrician to plebeian, specifically so he could become a tribune.
Recognising a potentially powerful ally, the consul Julius Caesar had allowed Clodius' request to become a plebeian, a man of the people. Duly elected as a tribune, the maverick politician had begun by reforming the collegia, the old trade groups which had always existed at every crossroads in Rome. Naturally the heavies he had hired were fiercely loyal to him alone. Within weeks, the streets had belonged to Clodius; he had even turned on Caesar, his former sponsor.
But Caesar had more on his mind than mob politics. His share of the spoils was to be granted consular powers over three of the Republic's provinces. He quickly departed for the most lucrative, determined to make a name for himself as a general. Caesar travelled to Gaul.
Clodius kept on good terms with Crassus, wary of his political ability. But he was scared of nobody else. Pompey had been his next target. Soon the great man had been publicly abused in the Forum Romanum itself, even blockaded inside his own house. In retaliation, Pompey had sponsored Titus Milo, another tribune, who quickly recruited his own groups of thugs, even hiring professional gladiators to make up the numbers.
Fierce gang warfare had now been raging for over a year, affecting trade badly. Gemellus regularly had to bribe both sides to ensure that his merchandise entered and left Rome safely. His profit margins were plummeting. And after decades of unerring success in business, Gemellus' trial investment the previous summer in Egyptian goods had been disastrous. Freak storms had sunk twelve ships transporting the precious cargo of ivory, tortoiseshell and papyrus. The losses had created a huge hole in the merchant's riches, and everything he 'd since touched had turned to dust. It was becoming hard not to believe the old superstition that living on the Aventine always brought bad luck.
He had delayed selling Fabiola and Romulus for too long. Even though the twins would fetch much more in a few years, Gemellus needed thousands of sestertii immediately. Interest on his debts was extortionate, frightening. He shuddered to think what the brutes working for those Greek moneylenders would do if he didn't keep up the weekly payments. So far, only the size of the arrears had prevented Gemellus from coming to serious harm. He'd be no use floating in the Tiber.
His thoughts turned back to Fabiola. The merchant had been lusting after her for some time, but he 'd controlled himself, knowing virgins fetched far higher prices. Instead of an average twelve to fifteen hundred sestertii for a slave, Gemellus would get at least three times that for Fabiola in one of the city's brothels. Romulus wouldn't fetch as much, but a gladiator trainer would still pay more than he would get in the slave market.
Wearing only a grubby loincloth, Romulus slipped into the garden, interrupting Gemellus' reverie. He was the spitting image of his sister, but larger and with black hair cut short. An aquiline nose was the most prominent feature of his face. Like Fabiola's, his blue eyes had a subdued, determined look.
'Master?' he said, wishing he were big enough to give Gemellus the thick ear that his sister now had. They were fiercely loyal to each other.
Gemellus was surprised the young slave had appeared so quickly. Despite frequent beatings, it was common for the twins to ignore orders. He would have them both manacled soon, before ideas of escape entered their minds.
'Come over here,' he snapped, noting Romulus' height and strong brown limbs. He was big for his thirteen and a half years. Memor, the grizzled lanista at Rome's main gladiator school, would surely pay at least two thousand sestertii for him. Or maybe both could be sold to the Lupanar, the high-class brothel where he intended to take Fabiola. The sexual tastes of its clientele were known to be broad.
The merchant gripped Romulus' shoulder. 'I need a note taken to the house of Crassus.'
'The great general?'
'The same.'
The boy's eyes widened.
'Do you know where he lives?'
Like most slaves, Romulus was rarely trusted out alone in case he ran away. But there had been enough occasions for him to learn the city's basic layout and its most important houses. He nodded eagerly.
