The Art of War

Chapter 79

Rome, 20 December AD 69

Borros

‘Where’s Domitian?’ Pantera asked.

We had slowed to a walk. I lowered the lady Caenis to the ground. She was bird light, and not hard to carry at all, but she thanked me kindly and did not seem overly flustered.

‘Where’s Domitian?’ Pantera asked her again, trying not to seem impatient with her rearranging of her hair, her tugging down of her sleeves.

‘With Trabo and Horus in the temple of Isis on the far side of the river.’ She looked around. ‘Where’s Jocasta?’

‘About two streets ahead of us,’ Pantera said, grimly. He thrust blue scarves at us, taken from dead men as we escaped. ‘Wind these on to your arms.’ And to Caenis, ‘Can you run?’

Caenis glanced at me, then bent down and took off her sandals. Barefoot, dust-lined, she looked like a slave until you saw the fire in her eyes. ‘Let’s go.’

*

‘Pantera! Stop!’

Trabo stood outside the temple of Isis, his blade in his hand. He looked exactly like the men fighting in the streets, but bigger, and more angry, and all his ire was directed at Pantera. ‘One step forward and you’re a dead man.’

Pantera stopped exactly where he was told, about ten paces from the white marble steps leading into the temple. ‘Is Jocasta inside?’ he asked.

A flicker of panic in Trabo’s eye betrayed him. He might have been a good legionary, but he would have been desperately bad at dice. ‘She’s not here.’

Pantera didn’t call him on the lie. ‘So why the blade?’

‘You’re working for Lucius. You’ll take Domitian and hand him over and all our work will be for nothing.’

‘And Jocasta, who isn’t here, told you that?’

‘She said it before she left.’

‘Then I suggest you bring Domitian and Horus and come with us. We’ll go somewhere safe. You can suggest the place and I’ll come with you. I won’t leave, I won’t signal anyone. We’ll sit in together and wait until Vitellius is deposed and Domitian can claim the throne. How does that sound to you?’

It sounded perfectly reasonable to me, but Trabo had gone beyond reason; he was in love with Jocasta and her lies had rotted his mind.

Pantera never took his eyes off him, didn’t nod at me or wink or crook a finger, but I saw a shift in the set of his shoulders and it was signal enough.

‘Haaaa!’

Trabo was a trained legionary, but I was bigger, and louder, and my father had been a warrior of the Ordovices; he had taught me all the moves a man might make against an armed opponent.

Trabo’s blade slashed fast past my face but I had already ducked and swerved. I came in under his arm. My fist took him in the side of the head and my hip caught his, sending him crashing back on to the marble steps. He didn’t make any attempt to rise.

‘Is he dead?’ Caenis asked.

‘Not yet.’ Pantera was kneeling at Trabo’s side, his hand on his neck. He looked up at me and there was a respect in his eyes that made my heart sing.

‘That was well done,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’ And then, ‘Jocasta’s inside with Domitian. Felix went round the back.’

We burst in together, saw the blood together.

‘Jocasta!’

‘Felix!’

We threw ourselves forward, for it was Jocasta’s blood that sprayed from a cut on her arm, but it was Felix who lay, purple-lipped, on the floor with no sign of life in his eyes.

I forgot about Domitian then; he might have been son of the emperor, but Felix had been my friend. I would have killed anyone who stood over him, and Jocasta must have seen that, for she whirled round, laughing, and leapt out of the back window, the one that Felix had come in through.

I held his hand, squeezed it, felt no squeeze back. His face was still, quiet, white. His uneven eyes were wide open, with the black points in them stretched as if he’d taken nightshade.

‘He’s dead. There was poison on the blade. See, where it entered?’ Pantera was kneeling at Felix’ side, his hand on his neck. ‘Borros, I’m so sorry. We nearly had her there.’

‘Do you want me to go after-’ I waved a hand at the window, but in truth I wanted to stay with Felix. He looked so peaceful, so young.

‘I’m sorry, we have to find Jocasta. She’s taken Domitian.’

We found Horus cowering behind the open door, invisible until we closed it again. He had hidden there, it transpired, when he saw Jocasta coming.

Horus said, ‘She would have killed me.’

Pantera was furious. He was on his feet and at the door but Horus caught his arm. ‘You won’t find her if she doesn’t want to be found,’ he said. ‘She can vanish as easily as you can and Domitian with her. Keep the lady Caenis safe. She’s the other half of the same coin.’

Pantera rounded on him, raging. I had never seen him angry before; it was a cold, fierce, frightening thing. ‘Did she pay you to say that?’

I was aghast. I had thought Horus was Pantera’s friend, but I watched the blood drain from his face and knew, then, that he was no friend. I stood, slowly; lifted my fist. If Felix had died because of him…

Horus whined like a struck hound. ‘Don’t! I am yours. I always was. When I wrote the letters, I didn’t know what she planned. I have done nothing for her since. If you believe nothing else, know that I am loyal to Mucianus, and his goals are yours.’

They locked eyes for a moment, as deer lock horns.

Stiffly, Pantera said, ‘We need to get Caenis to safety before Jocasta comes back with half of Vitellius’ Guard. Will you provide sanctuary at the House? With Borros and your Belgian, it’s probably one of the safest places in Rome just now.’

‘Of course.’ Horus leaked relief. He wept, silently, slowly. He looked like a bedraggled cat.

‘Good.’ Pantera looked my way. ‘If I carry Felix back, can you carry Trabo as well as you did Caenis?’

Of course I could. Why ask? He was heavier, but he was only a man. I have carried whole oxen in my time. I would rather have carried Felix, but Pantera took him, gently, and we walked side by side.