Street fighter

21

‘You first, Spurius,’ Milo demanded as he faced the two gang leaders at the table outside the inn. It was shortly after the first men had returned to The Pit. Marcus had hurriedly brought out a jug of wine and some bread for the men who arrived at Milo’s table and was standing a short distance away.

The leader of the Blades had a hurriedly tied dressing round his head through which blood was seeping. He collected his thoughts before he answered. ‘We got to the Forum without trouble, and saw the trial was about to begin. Cato was there, all ready to begin his opening speech. Calpurnius Piso didn’t look like he was facing any charges at all. He was clean-shaven and neatly dressed, not playing the usual trick of looking distraught and repentant. He even seemed to be enjoying himself as he sat with his lawyer. Should’ve guessed there’d be a reason behind it. Anyway, one of Clodius’s gangs was already there, barracking Cato. We fetched up behind ’em and started to push ’em out of the way. There was the usual rough stuff, a few punches thrown and so on, but we cleared ’em out and formed a line round the stage so that no one could get in or out without our say-so.’

Spurius drained his cup and held it up for Marcus to refill. Then he continued. ‘Clodius’s gang had moved off a short distance to shout insults, more loudly than usual, I thought. Then the other gangs arrived. They must’ve been waiting for a signal because they all arrived at the same time. Hundreds of ’em, pouring out of every road and alley leading into the Forum. I could see at once we were trapped, and knew that if we stayed by the court we’d had it. So I tell the lads to follow me and run for it. We made for the exit leading to the Boarium, but they caught us before we could reach it. It was out with the staves and whatever else my boys were packing. They were all round us and we had to fight every step of the way until we reached the Tiber and split up to return here.’ He paused and looked at his chief. ‘We lost a lot of the boys back there.’

‘How many?’

‘Over fifty, between the two gangs. Don’t suppose many of them are alive.’

Marcus saw Milo grind his teeth as he digested the news. ‘Damn! Where did Clodius get so many men?’

‘They wasn’t all from the Subura,’ the leader of the Scorpions chipped in. ‘I recognized the tags of some gangs from the Esquiline, and even some from the Janiculan district.’

‘That’s bad. Very bad,’ Milo reflected. ‘Somehow Clodius has persuaded the other districts to settle their differences and fight with the Subura. . We’re outnumbered. Badly.’

‘So what do we do now, chief?’ asked the second gang leader.

Milo looked down at the table while he concentrated. The other men looked on, but Marcus saw Spurius turn to nod meaningfully at the other man. His companion shook his head and Spurius gestured more insistently, urging him on. With a shrug of resignation, the leader of the Scorpions cleared his throat. Milo continued to stare at the table, his brow furrowed in concentration.

‘Er, Chief. .’

Milo raised his head with an irritated expression. ‘What is it?’

The leader of the Scorpions spread his hands on the table as he summoned up his courage.

‘Spit it out, Brutus!’

The sharp tone of command made the man flinch and he stammered. ‘The th-thing is, the lads have been talking and — ’

‘The lads?’ Milo cocked an eyebrow. ‘Who exactly?’

‘Me and the other gang leaders.’

‘I see.’ Milo placed his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. ‘Go on then. You’ve been talking. And?’

Brutus glanced nervously at Spurius, looking for support, but the other gang leader sat in silence and Brutus was forced to speak out on his own. ‘The gangs are supposed to run the street rackets. That’s what we’ve always done. Taken our money from protection charges, running the brothels and settling disputes in our own districts, right? As long as we did that, and the other gangs stuck to the boundaries, then we all lived comfortably on the proceeds. But this gang war started. Since then we’ve lost men and we’re too busy to do our normal business. .’

He dried up under Milo’s withering gaze. After a pause, Milo spoke in a low, cold tone. ‘So? Things will return to normal once we’ve seen off Clodius and his friends.’

Brutus puffed his cheeks out. ‘That’s just it. The lads want things back to how they was. They’ve had their fill of fighting other gangs. I said I’d ask you to call a truce with Clodius, Chief, and put an end to the gang war.’

‘And how do you think that would look?’ Milo asked cuttingly. ‘The instant things start going against us I scurry to Clodius and beg him to stop fighting. We’d be the laughing stock of Rome. Before long the other gangs would muscle in on our turf and the people in the Aventine wouldn’t lift a finger to stop them. Do you know why? Because they wouldn’t be afraid of us any more. Or at least, they’d be more afraid of the other gangs. Fear is what keeps us on top here in the Aventine. If we buckle under to Clodius then we’re finished. We have to keep fighting and we have to win. There is no other option. Got that?’ He paused, then continued in a tone laced with scorn. ‘Or didn’t you and your friends think it through?’

Marcus saw the gang leader squirm under his chief’s fierce glare.

‘Milo, at this rate, there won’t be enough of us left to run the Aventine. Don’t you see? We have to talk to Clodius. We have to stop this — why are we doing some politician’s dirty work, anyway?’

Milo suddenly snatched up the half-filled wine jug and swung it down in a short vicious arc on Brutus’s head. The jug exploded into fragments as the dark red wine sprayed out across the table, splattering Spurius, Milo and Marcus who stood close by. Brutus’s head slammed down on the table and he uttered a deep groan before losing consciousness. A ragged tear in his scalp began to bleed heavily, mingling with the wine splashed across the table. Despite his training, Marcus flinched and took a step back. Everyone at the table stared at the scene with frightened expressions. Others around the edge of The Pit had become aware that something was going on and they looked towards the inn. Milo climbed on to the table and stared down at the faces below. He called out across the open space, his voice echoing from the walls of the tenement buildings.

‘I’ve just been told some of you are questioning my decision to make war on the gangs of that slimy upstart, Clodius. It seems you don’t have the stomach for a fight. Is this how far some of you have sunk? Gutless little worms, too afraid to defend what we’ve spent so long fighting for? It doesn’t matter how this gang war started now. The fact is we’re all in it and we have no choice. We must fight and win. That’s the Aventine way.’ He thrust his finger down towards Brutus. ‘This worthless coward told me we should turn our backs on everything we’ve achieved, beg Clodius to end the gang war and give us peace. . Some peace! The instant the other gangs in Rome hear about it they’ll have no respect for us. They’ll take every chance to prove the Aventine gangs are pathetic pushovers, like the vermin at my feet.’ Milo lifted his boot and viciously kicked the unconscious Brutus so that he crashed off the bench on to the ground, right beside Marcus. ‘That’s what will happen to anyone who hasn’t the guts to see this war through. I want men, real men, at my back to fight that scumbag Clodius, not weaklings who run to their mothers at the first setback.’ His eyes alighted on Marcus and he beckoned to him as he spoke quietly. ‘Up here, lad.’

Marcus clambered up beside Milo. The man placed a heavy hand on his shoulder as he addressed his audience again. ‘Even this boy is more of a man than Brutus. At least he has the courage to stand against greater odds when he needs to, and win. If this boy can stand up for himself, so can any man here.’ Marcus felt every pair of eyes turned towards him, and couldn’t help feeling nervous at the attention. He was supposed to be a spy, not a public example. What if someone recognized him from the battle with Clodius?

‘I will cut the throat of the next man who wants to talk peace with Clodius. We shall have peace, one day, I swear it. The same day that Clodius, and the last of his men, lie dead at my feet. Until then we fight on, without rest, without pity and without any doubt that the gods are on the side of the Aventine.’

Milo punched his fist into the air and let out a cheer. Most of his men joined him in a ragged chorus, but Marcus could see many were half-hearted, and some did not cheer at all. Milo kept it up for a moment before he prodded Spurius with the toe of his boot and jerked his thumb towards Brutus, who was lying sprawled on the ground, his head in a small puddle of blood. ‘Get that coward out of here. When he comes to, you tell him he’s finished as far as the Aventine gangs are concerned. If he ever shows his face here again, I’ll carve it from his skull with the bluntest blade I can find.’

Spurius winced at the threat and nodded. ‘Yes, Milo. I’ll see to it.’

‘We don’t need the likes of Brutus,’ Milo continued thought-fully. ‘The time has come for more direct steps. .’

He suddenly looked at Marcus. ‘What are you still standing there for? Clean this mess up and bring me a fresh jug of wine.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Marcus bowed his head quickly. With a sigh of relief he jumped down from the table. He trotted past Spurius as he dragged Brutus towards the nearest alley out of The Pit. At the back of the inn Demetrius thrust a broom into Marcus’s hands, then picked up a fresh jug of wine for Milo.

‘That’s a shame,’ Demetrius sighed. ‘Brutus was one of my better customers — he even paid for his drinks some of the time.’

Milo was waiting for them as they stepped out of the inn. He gestured towards Marcus.

‘You can leave the cleaning for now. I need you to find Kasos. There’s an important errand I want him to run. .’

It was late in the evening when Kasos returned to The Pit. He was not alone. Two men were with him, each one wrapped in a cloak with their hoods raised to conceal their features. One of Milo’s men had been keeping watch in an alley leading to the gang’s lair and escorted them through the other men guarding the approaches to the open space.

It had been a quiet night at the inn. Most of the customers had been subdued — especially the gang members, who had fallen to muttering among themselves, occasionally glancing round to make sure no one was listening. As the inn began to empty, Milo appeared and told Demetrius to get rid of his remaining customers and close the shutters.

‘But they haven’t finished drinking,’ Demetrius protested.

‘I don’t care. Get rid of them. Now. I’ll wait outside. Let me know when the last of ’em is out.’

Demetrius saw the dangerous glare in the gang leader’s eyes and turned to Marcus.

‘Come on, lad, you heard. Let’s clear the place.’

They moved from bench to bench, passing on the instruction. Some customers started to argue, but when told who had given the order they instantly fell silent, downed their drinks and left. One last man had passed out across a table at the back. Demetrius called Marcus and they dragged him outside, dumping him a short distance down the slope. That was when Marcus caught sight of Kasos and the two hooded men making their way across the open space to the inn.

‘Come here, Demetrius,’ Milo commanded. ‘I have a couple of guests I need to speak to in private. We’ll use your inn. I take it you won’t mind if I help myself to ajar of your good stuff?’

‘N-no, Milo.’ The innkeeper bowed his head and forced a smile. ‘Of course not. Be my guest. Make yourself at home.’

‘I’ll also need some bread, dried sausage and olives.’ Demetrius flapped a hand. ‘I have bread. But no sausage, no olives.’

‘Then go and buy some. Enough to feed me and two friends.’

‘Of course, I’ll send the boy and — ’

‘No. You go. The boy can stay and serve us with wine.’

Demetrius swallowed his pride and nodded as he took off his apron. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

‘Quicker would be best for all concerned,’ Milo responded darkly. ‘I’m not in a patient mood.’

‘At once then.’ Demetrius nodded and hurried to his back room, emerging with his purse. He paused at the door and looked at Marcus. ‘Go down to the cellar. That’s where I keep the best wine. There’s ajar of Arretian, my last.’ He fought down a choke at losing his prized wine. ‘Use that.’

‘You’re too kind.’ Milo smiled as he patted the innkeeper on the shoulder. ‘And use the side door when you come back. We don’t want to be disturbed.’

Demetrius muttered a surly reply and disappeared into the darkness. Once he had gone Milo turned to Marcus. ‘Fetch the wine, boy.’

‘At once,’ Marcus said, and made his way to the rear of the inn. As he reached the threshold of the back room, he heard voices and paused to look round. Milo was framed by the entrance as he spoke to someone outside. ‘Here’s a denarius for you, Kasos. You’ve done well. Just make sure you don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Now be on your way.’

Then Milo stood aside and ushered two men inside. Marcus edged into the back room and peered cautiously round the door frame to keep the men in view. His heart was pounding in his chest and his skin tingled with excitement. Who were these visitors to The Pit? Perhaps this was the moment when he’d discover something to tip the balance in Caesar’s favour. He looked them over. One man wore fine leather boots and a richly embroidered tunic. His companion was more plainly dressed and wore heavy soldier’s boots. A fiery red ruby glinted on the ring he wore on one hand. Milo closed the door behind them and indicated a table close to the counter.

‘I appreciate your coming. No doubt you’ve heard my men were given a good kicking today.’

‘We know,’ one of the cloaked figures replied. It was impossible for Marcus to know which had spoken from the deep hoods of their cloaks. ‘And we’re not pleased, Milo. You’re supposed to be in control of the streets. That’s what you promised us. That’s what we paid you a very large sum of money to achieve.’

‘Unfortunately, Clodius’s backers have rather deeper pockets than you,’ Milo replied tersely. ‘That’s why he’s been able to buy the support of the other gangs. If you had paid me as much, there would be no doubt about the outcome of the fight for control of the streets. The time has come to change our strategy. ’

‘We agree,’ said the man in the cloak as he and his companion followed Milo to the table and sat down. ‘A more direct course of action is required, and that is why I have brought my friend here.’

‘You can drop the hoods,’ said Milo. ‘We’re alone.’

‘Since we know each other, that’s fair enough for me. But my companion’s identity must remain a secret, even from you.’ The man reached up with his hands and drew his hood back.

Marcus felt his pulse quicken as he recognized the man and his name almost soundlessly escaped from his Ups. ‘Bibulus. .’

If Caesar’s bitterest rival had dared come here to talk to Milo in person then it was clear that Bibulus and his friends were planning something so secret they dare not trust to a go-between. Marcus felt his pulse quicken. This was why he had volunteered for this perilous task. At last he might discover some priceless information for Caesar. Something that would help win this struggle for Caesar once and for all.