The Gladiator - Scarrow Simon (бесплатная регистрация книга txt) 📗

The governor's palace stood at the very centre of Gortyna, on the intersection of the two main streets. There was a tall outer wall, pierced by an impressive double-arched gatehouse, and inside a vast paved courtyard opened up on the other side. The palace, a fine building of white stone, looked as if it had been mauled by siege engines. There were great gaps in the walls and only a few expanses of tiles gave any indication of the original lines of the roof.

Sempronius sucked in his breath. 'It's a wonder anyone survived that.'

'Yes,' Cato muttered. 'That looks like the stables over there.'

He pointed to a narrow walled yard to one side of the main building-A small crowd stood or squatted outside, some holding infants or supporting others as they waited to be seen. Two army medics in black tunics were assessing the patients and admitting only those with the worst injuries. It was clear that the mood of the crowd was sullen, and Cato heard angry grumbling as they approached the stables.

'Make way there!' Sempronius called out. 'Make way, I said!'

The crowd parted in front of the horse and the expressions of those closest hardened as they stared up at the riders.

'The young 'un's wounded,' an old man growled. 'See there, on his leg.'

'Bastard's jumping the queue,' another voice called out, and at once there was an angry murmur sweeping through the crowd, and those still ahead of Sempronius refused to give way.

'Take your turn like the rest of us!'

Sempronius glared in the direction of the last shout. 'I am a Roman senator, damn you! Now do as you are told and move aside.'

'Fuck you!'

'One rule for the rich, another for the poor!' another man shouted.

'That's right!' Sempronius shouted. 'That's how it is. Now clear a path before I clear it for you!' He drew his sword to emphasise his words and dared anyone in the crowd to defy him. The people glared back, but as Sempronius kicked his heels in to move the horse on, they parted before him.

As he reached the arch and passed through into the courtyard, a man raised his fist and cried out, ' Bloody aristocrats! Our people die out here and they look after their own!'

The anger was taken up in other shouts and bitter cries, but Sempronius kept his face fixed in an expression of haughty contempt as he walked the horse up to a rail and slipped from the saddle to tether it. Cato dismounted beside him, wincing as a shaft of pain shot through his leg. He clasped a hand to his thigh as he looked round and saw a man in a dark tunic with red trim on the sleeves emerge from one of the stalls.

The man gestured towards Cato's leg. 'I'll have a look at that.' He wiped some blood off his hands with a soiled rag as he approached the new arrivals.

'Romans?'

Cato nodded.

The surgeon pointed at Cato's bandaged thigh.' How did that happen?'

'We ran into some escaped slaves. One of them stuck me with a pitchfork.'

'Nasty. I'd better see to it.'

'Later. We need to speak to the governor.' Cato gestured to Sempronius. 'We have urgent business with him.'

'So does everyone.' The surgeon laughed mirthlessly. 'But he's in no condition to see anyone right now, poor devil.'

'That's too bad,' said Sempronius. 'I must insist that he sees us. Immediately'

The surgeon shook his head. 'I can't let you disturb my patient.

You'd better go and see Marcus Glabius if you want to know what's going on.'

'Who?'

'Glabius is in charge now. He persuaded the governor to appoint him as his successor yesterday'

'What office did this Glabius hold before?' asked Cato. 'Civil administration? Military?'

'Neither. He was one of the province's tax collectors.'

'A tax collector?' Sempronius could not hide his disgust. Why on earth did Hirtius hand power over to a bloody tax collector? Surely there must have been an official on his staff he could have turned to?'

'No, they were all at the banquet when it happened. For some reason Glabius was late arriving. Otherwise... 'The surgeon wearily ran a hand through his hair. 'In any case, they're close friends and business associates. Do I need to spell it out for you?'

Cato could guess the arrangement easily enough. Governor Hirtius sold the tax concession to Glabius for a knock - down price.

In exchange, the two of them had a private arrangement whereby Hirtius quietly pocketed a percentage of the tax squeezed out of the islanders and any merchants who paid duties on cargoes leaving or arriving in Crete. A common arrangement throughout the empire, and one of the means by which provincial governors amassed a fortune during their term in office. It was an illegal practice, but since provincial governors accused of malpractice had the comfortable prospect of being tried before their peers, and those who aspired to be governors in turn, there was little prospect of prosecution. That said, governors had to be careful not to exact too much from a province lest their wealth provoke a dangerous degree of interest from the emperor. It was not unknown for an emperor to dispose of a wealthy Roman in order to confiscate his property.

'Just take us to the governor,' Sempronius said firmly.' Right now '

'If that is your wish.' The surgeon bowed his head. 'This way, sir.'

With Sempronius offering support to Cato, they followed the surgeon down the line of stables until they reached a large tack room at the end. It had been cleared out and a couch lay against the far wall. A man lay on the mattress. He was still, apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. His breath came in laboured rasps. They crossed the room and Sempronius indicated a simple bench against one of the other walls and spoke to the surgeon. 'Give me a hand with that.'

As they dragged it over towards the couch, Governor Hirtius turned his head to the side to observe them. By the light of a small window high up on the wall Cato could see that one side of his face was heavily bandaged. A loose sheet lay across his body and covered his legs. Once Sempronius and Cato had settled on the bench, the surgeon stood by the couch and drew the sheet down to the governor's waist. His chest was bare and the pale skin was covered with black and purple bruising down his right side. Beneath the discoloured flesh the bones and muscle appeared to Cato to be misshapen. The arm had been broken and was fixed in a splint.

Sempronius leaned forward and spoke in a comforting tone.

'Greetings, Aulus Hirtius. We've met once or twice before, at the senate back in Rome.'

The governor licked his lips and nodded faintly before whispering hoarsely,'Lucius Sempronius... I remember...What are you doing here?'

'I've come to take charge of the province.'

Hirtius's eyes widened and he made to raise his head as he responded sharply, ' Who sent you?'

The slight effort caused a sudden spasm of agony to course through the governor's body and he fell back with a keening groan as he gritted his teeth. The surgeon leaned over his patient anxiously.

'Lie still, sir. You must lie still.'

Sempronius waited until the tension left the governor's body and he was breathing more easily. Then he spoke again.

'No one sent me. My ship was passing the island when the earthquake struck. I learned that you had been injured, my friend, and came to offer my services. Now that I see you, it is clear that you'll need time to recover. As the ranking official in the province I should take charge, until you are ready to resume your duties.'

'No need... I have already found someone.'

'So I understand. But Hirtius, I cannot allow a tax collector to take on such a responsibility. They are corrupt dogs at the best of times. We cannot let such a man govern Crete.'

Hirtius struggled to raise a hand in protest. Sempronius took it and patted it gently. 'There's no need to worry now that I'm here. Your province is in safe hands. I swear it, on my honour.'