The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben (читать книги онлайн полностью без сокращений txt) 📗

Fabiola had been happy to let matters lie.

Pompeia obviously had not.

Denarii chinked off each other as Fabiola handed over a small purse.

Docilosa judged its weight instantly. 'That's far too much,' she protested.

Fabiola laughed. 'For saving my life? I can never thank you enough.' She leaned forward and kissed Docilosa's cheek.

This produced a rare smile.

'I'll just have to spend more time in the kitchen,' said Fabiola brightly. 'Watch all my meals being prepared.' She didn't think it likely that Catus or the other slaves would be prepared to poison her. Pompeia would need to come into the cooking area on some pretext. Do the dirty work herself. Jovina allowed the prostitutes to order food whenever they were not working and so the kitchen was always a hive of activity. It would not be that difficult to come down the corridor and lace a plate waiting on the work surface by the door. Another girl looking for a morsel to eat would attract little attention.

Fabiola suddenly felt very uneasy. It was horrible knowing that Pompeia wanted her dead. While she did not like all of the other women, Fabiola did not actually want to harm any of them. Neither could she understand the degree of jealousy that would drive someone to kill another over such a trivial matter. Despite the shocking revelation, Fabiola had no wish to murder Pompeia in return. It was not that she was scared of doing so. After all, she desperately wanted a man to die.

Gemellus.

The fat merchant had done unspeakable things to her mother for years. He deserved a slow, painful death. And her own father also deserved a trip to Hades: a noble who had raped a slave just because he could. In comparison to the subjects of Fabiola's deep-rooted hate, Pompeia seemed pathetic. Laughable. She poked herself. There was real danger here. If the redhead was dangerous enough to make threats and buy poison, Fabiola had to assume that she was prepared to use the deadly liquid too.

Life in the brothel had become perilous and the task of monitoring her food being cooked would not pass unnoticed. Poisoning was a common method of killing an enemy in Rome and the cooks would understand why Fabiola was watching them work. Rumours would start and then Pompeia would find out she knew. She could not refuse to eat food from the kitchen either. Jovina would hear about that instantly. A frisson of fear snaked up Fabiola's spine.

Something had to be done. Soon.

Fabiola bit her lip, momentarily unsure how to respond. She would have to think about this. Offer extra prayers to Jupiter and hope for inspiration. For some reason, she felt sure that the most powerful Roman god would provide her with a sign.

Docilosa grinned infectiously. It was a rare sight. Fabiola looked enquiringly at the older woman, wondering what had pleased her so much.

'I poured every last drop down the sewer,' announced Docilosa triumphantly. 'Washed the bottle out thoroughly and filled it with fresh water from the well.'

Fabiola's heart soared at the unexpected revelation. 'The gods must have sent you to me!'

'The bitch will think that she was ripped off by whatever lowlife sold her the poison.'

'Or that I'm immortal.'

They both giggled.

Docilosa's face gradually turned serious again. 'What are you going to do, Fabiola? Pompeia's a vindictive one. She won't stop at this, you know.'

Fabiola nodded. Docilosa's shrewd action would have bought her a reprieve, nothing more. 'Leave it with me,' she said, affecting a confidence that was not wholly there. 'I'll come up with something.'

But things were to get worse.

Two days later, Fabiola entered her room at dawn, tired from a busy night's work. There had been more customers than she usually had to entertain, but it had been worth the effort. She had three gold aurei to add to her savings and the last client had turned out to be a newly elected quaestor. Someone who might prove to be useful in the future. Ambitious politicians were always a good catch and Fabiola had driven the man completely crazy before allowing him to climax.

He would be back. Soon.

She smiled. Most men were so easy to manipulate.

After a good wash, Fabiola normally just stripped naked and fell on to her bed to catch a few hours of well-deserved sleep. For reasons that she could never explain afterwards, something made the black-haired girl study the plain woollen bedspread as she prepared to throw it back.

It looked strange. Lumpy.

Fabiola's pulse quickened and she froze on the spot, her eyes taking in the thick, coiled shape under the covers. Then it moved slightly and she had to stifle a scream.

Pompeia was not to be put off.

Tiptoeing into the corridor, Fabiola shut the door quietly and went in search of the doormen. They would know what to do.

When the pair heard, their reaction was so violent that Fabiola had to tell one of them to stay by the front door. It was just before dawn and, with all the customers gone, everyone had finally gone to bed. Both men pounding through the house would have drawn too much attention. Ordering Vettius to follow her quietly, Fabiola walked back to her room. She took deep breaths, releasing the terror that had filled her at the first sight of the shape on her cot. All would be well.

Outside the door, the shaven-headed hulk gently pushed her aside. 'Leave this to me,' he said, gripping his metal-studded club. 'There were plenty of snakes where I grew up.'

Fabiola did not argue. She watched as Vettius peered inside, checking first that there was nothing on the floor.

'It hasn't moved,' he said without turning his head. 'Stay here until I tell you it's safe.'

Fabiola squeezed his huge hand, suddenly worried that she was endangering a man she regarded as a real friend. 'Be careful.'

He looked back and winked at her. 'Jupiter will protect me.'

There was silence as Vettius entered the small chamber, his weapon poised in his right hand. Creeping to the bed, he quickly lifted the edge of the straw mattress nearest the wall and tipped the whole thing on to the stone floor. Vettius smashed down on the pile of sheets and blankets with repeated blows of his club, keeping his feet well clear in case the snake escaped. Fabiola was relieved that the noise he made was muffled somewhat by her bedding. It was important to minimise the number of people who knew what was going on.

After a few moments, he grunted with satisfaction, nudging at a red stain that was appearing through the wool of Fabiola's blanket.

'Come in.'

Glancing to left and right, Fabiola shot in and closed the door. 'Is it dead?' she asked nervously.

Vettius flipped over the bedspread, revealing a thick brown shape as long as a man's arm. Twitches still spasmed through the snake, but its head was a bloody mess.

Fabiola shuddered at what would have happened if she had climbed into bed as usual. Jupiter be thanked, she thought to herself.

The doorman studied the chequered pattern on the serpent's back for a moment. 'Never seen this type before,' he pronounced.

'So it's not native to Italy.'

Vettius shook his head.

'It must be poisonous,' mused Fabiola. 'Why else would it be in my bed?'

Vettius took her words in gradually. 'Who would do this?' he hissed, his face darkening. 'Everyone here loves you.'

'Keep your voice down,' Fabiola answered sharply, already concerned that his blows might have been heard outside the room.

Embarrassed, Vettius bobbed his head.

'Some women are jealous of me.'

'But to do this?' Vettius pointed angrily at the mashed snake on the floor.

Fabiola considered briefly whether she should tell the doorman about Docilosa's discovery. Then she imagined the sensation of being bitten as she clambered under the covers. Of dying before finding out what had happened to Romulus.