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

Your general has butchered and pillaged an entire nation to pay his debts to Crassus and make himself rich, Fabiola thought bitterly. That certainly makes him cold-blooded enough to have raped a lone slave eighteen years ago.

I need to meet him. Find out if he really is the one.

'When will I be introduced to Caesar at last?' She batted her eyelashes. 'I want to see the reason for all this adulation.'

As was his recent custom, Caesar was overwintering at Ravenna, two hundred miles north of Rome. Once Fabiola was settled in the villa, the staff officer would be taking the liburnian up the coast to consult with his master.

'He has spoken of his desire to meet you also,' said Brutus, looking pleased. His expression changed abruptly. 'But it won't be any time soon. Those damned Optimates in the Senate are putting a lot of pressure on Pompey to break faith and recall him to the city. They want Caesar to stand trial for exceeding his jurisdiction as proconsul in Gaul.'

'Cato and his henchmen?'

Brutus scowled in response.

Fabiola knew a lot about the young senator who had made it his life 's mission to defend the Republic from what he saw as rapacious opportunists. He and other politicians who felt the same way called themselves the Optimates, the best men. Caesar was their number one enemy. A former quaestor, Cato was an excellent public speaker and lived as austerely as his main foe, often wearing black because aspiring politicians wore purple. He had even visited the Lupanar with friends once. Unusually for a noble customer, he had refused all Jovina's offers of women and boys, relaxing in the baths instead. It was a restrained decision that had gained Fabiola's admiration as she had listened to his stimulating conversation from her hiding place.

'And his crony, Domitius.' He grimaced. 'Caesar is slowly being pushed into a corner.'

'But he won't give up control of his legions.'

'Why should he?' Brutus cried. 'After all he 's done for Rome?'

Fabiola nodded, remembering the recent gossip. Caesar would be treated worse than a dog if he came back to the city as a civilian. 'What if Pompey disbands his?'

'The crafty sons of whores won't ask him to do that.' Brutus thumped a fist into his palm. 'Double standards.'

She sighed. Two powerful nobles wrestling for control, both with massive armies at their disposal and a weakened Senate caught in the middle. It did seem as if the Republic was heading inexorably towards civil war.

It was not long before the liburnian reached Pompeii, bumping against the timbers of the dock and allowing the exhausted slaves to slump over their shipped oars, work done. As a few sailors used boathooks to hold the Ajax in place, others clambered on to the jetty with ropes, tying them securely to large stone bollards. Brutus muttered a few words to the captain, making sure that his ship would be ready to leave at a moment's notice. Carefully holding her dress with one hand, Fabiola let the staff officer help her up off the ship. Docilosa followed close behind.

Positioned a short distance south of the city, Pompeii's harbour was much smaller than that of Ostia. Fishing vessels rocked in the water alongside the larger shapes of naval triremes. Heavily laden barges filled the opening of the River Sarnus around which the curtain walls had been built. Pompeii was a busy trading port. A ferry packed with passengers furled its sails as it followed them in, pausing on the journey from Misenum to Surrentum at the other end of the bay.

Dominating the city and harbour, almost overhanging them, was Vesuvius. Fabiola stared up at the huge mountain, taking in the grey clouds covering its peak, the forests greening its upper slopes, the farms and empty fields below. It was an imposing sight.

'They say Vulcan himself lives up there,' said Brutus. 'Not so sure myself.' He laughed. 'The crater at the top is a miserable damn place. Boiling hot in summer, covered in snow at this time of year. No sign of a god anywhere. But it doesn't stop the locals trying to appease him at Vulcanalia. More fish are thrown into the bonfires that week than get eaten here in a year. Superstitious peasants!'

The noble cared little for any deities except Mars, the god of war.

Fabiola shivered, pulling closer her woollen cloak. There was a strong smell of rotting fish and human waste in the cold air. She looked down into the dark water and made a face.

'Sewage from the town,' declared Brutus. 'Don't worry. There's none of that at the villa. It has proper drains that lead half a mile away.'

Eight slaves had been waiting miserably on the exposed dock for their arrival. A large litter stood beside them. Leaving the newly freed Docilosa to supervise the offloading of their luggage, Fabiola and Brutus climbed in and set off for the villa.

Pompeii's streets were almost deserted. Those who were out hurried by on their way to the baths or the market, their necks hunched against the biting wind. An old augur tottered along, holding his blunt-peaked hat tightly to prevent it blowing away. Ragged children ran past, screaming with glee at the bread that they had stolen. Angry shouts followed them.

The forum was a decent size for a rural town, although it was a work in progress. An unfinished temple to Jupiter occupied the position of prominence in the square, flanked by the usual theatre, public library and other shrines. Statues of the gods were dotted in front of many buildings. A covered market filled most of the open space, the stallholders' cries muted by the bad weather.

The litter bumped and swayed its way north out of the city for some time. Seemingly unaware that Fabiola was tired from the voyage, Brutus chattered about the villa that they were approaching.

'It was originally built by a noble family. But a rich pleb bought the place when they fell on hard times nearly thirty years ago,' Brutus said. He winked. 'They got on the wrong side of Sulla.'

She laughed dutifully at his macabre joke. Thousands of people had died under the dictator's rule.

'The augurs say that bad luck follows bad men. Or maybe it's because the merchant lived on the Aventine.' Brutus shrugged. 'He had to put the villa on the market two winters ago when there weren't many buyers about.' He smiled. 'I got it for a song.'

'A merchant?' said Fabiola, leaning forward with sudden interest. 'From the Aventine?'

He looked surprised. 'Yes. Old, smelly and fat. Why?'

'What was his name?'

Brutus ran a hand through his short brown hair, thinking.

Her heart raced as she waited.

'Gemellus?' He paused. 'Yes, it was Gemellus.'

Fabiola's composure slipped and she gasped with delight. The idea that she was the new mistress of her former owner's villa was a dream come true.

'You know him?' asked Brutus curiously.

She took his hand and squeezed it. 'He sold me to the Lupanar.'

'The bastard!' Sudden rage from Brutus was rare and shocking.

'I would never have met you otherwise,' she said coyly.

'True.' Calming down, he peered out of the litter. 'If it's any consolation, I've heard that his business has gone down the sewer completely now. He lost an absolute fortune when shiploads of beasts that he had bought for the circus sank on the way over from Egypt.'

A pang of sadness hit Fabiola. She could remember fantasising with Romulus about trapping wild animals with the bestiarius. It seemed a lifetime ago.

'The moneylenders were hounding him from dawn till dusk by the end,' Brutus added. 'Even had to sell his house on the Aventine.'

Relief began to replace the pain. And as the high wall surrounding her new home finally came into sight, Fabiola knew that Jupiter, in the inexplicable way of the gods, was taking care of her in some way.

Revenge had been granted: Gemellus had become one of the homeless who clogged Rome's streets, begging for alms from the rich. As someone who valued money above all else, the merchant's life had been ruined more completely than by a swift knife between the ribs down an alleyway. It was a suitable punishment, she thought, although it would have been even sweeter to have knocked on Gemellus' door and informed him that she, Fabiola, was to have his beloved villa. Her only regret was that Romulus and her mother were not present to share her joy. But they would be watching her from the other side.