The Art of War

Chapter 76

Rome, 20 December AD 69

Geminus

We worked in pairs, swiftly, with one man always in the open street.

This was what we were good at. There’s a routine to it that we followed here: kick in the doors and follow in fast and hard, shields up, blades to the front. Keep it sharp and loud and violent and anyone inside is already defeated before they even see you.

Except there was nobody inside: the entire fucking population was on the rooftops chanting the circus songs that went with the chariot races — and we’d been identified as Greens-men in a solidly Blue neighbourhood. Before long half of them were leaning over hurling insults, and I knew from experience that stones followed fast after the words.

I’d been the one keeping watch outside in case our quarry bolted, but now I barrelled after Juvens and Lentulus into a single-roomed dwelling, fastidiously neat, with whitewashed walls and the mellow-sweet-sticky smell of a nursing newborn. We were leaving when a flash of colour in the far corner caught my eye. In three paces, I’d found a blue pale curtain, lifted it and stepped into the next house along.

I didn’t have to speak. Juvens ran outside and found Thrasyllus.

‘They all connect. Take Halotus and go down the line as fast as you can. We’ll take this side. Keep your head down any time you’re outside. It’s getting ugly out here.’

Juvens, Lentulus and I ran together, the rise and fall of the chariot songs over our heads not quite drowning out the sound of our nailed feet on the packed earth ground.

It didn’t quite drown out the whisper of feet that started up ahead of us, either.

‘ There! ’

You’d be amazed by how fast we ran, then.