The Sign of the Eagle Page 17

  Shafer wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry, Mistress,” she whispered.

  Macha hugged her. “There is no need to apologize, Shafer,” she whispered in reply. “This place is enough to make the strongest weep.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, but I will later, you’ll see.”

  Minutes passed before Horse Arse regained consciousness. His sweaty face glistened. He groaned. “Crixus, can you hear me?” Bassus asked quietly.

  “Aye,” he rasped still lying on the floor.

  “Are you ready to confess?”

  Crixus turned his face to one side. “Yes, have mercy.”

  “Depending on what you tell me, I may offer you immunity, and spare you from a broken limb.”

  “Anything, but…but no more wheel!”

  Bassus pointed a forefinger at Crixus. “Providing you tell us the truth and we can verify the information.”

  “Whatever…you…want to know.” He groaned once again before continuing, “My face was nearly chopped in half. I can’t…take any more pain.”

  “Can you stand on your own?”

  “I…think so.”

  “Get up.”

  Crixus moaned as he staggered to his feet. Bassus ordered his ripped tunic returned to him.

  “Come over here and sit.”

  Crixus shuffled a few steps along the gritty stone floor, and stiffly sat on the backless stool across from the Senator. He slumped forward propping his elbows on his thighs and bowing his head.

  Bassus motioned to the torturer. "Get him a towel."

  The interrogator brought a dirty cloth and handed it to Horse Arse. He wiped the blood from his neck and torso before dropping it to the floor.

  Bassus leaned forward. “Now, I want answers─the truth."

  "Aye," Horse Arse rasped.

  "Who hired you to recruit and kill Lady Carataca and me?"

  "I...I don't know his name," he whimpered. He weakly raised his arm and dropped to the table. "Please, don't hurt me. He wouldn't tell me, but he wore a merchants rich clothes. Like me, he was a Gaul."

  Macha nearly choked. It has to be one of the Gallic traders that had approached Titus to lure him into the plot against the Emperor's life, she thought.

  "What did he say to you?" Bassus questioned.

  "He...he was a go between for someone else," Horse Arse answered in a hoarse voice. "He said he would pay well for your deaths, especially, the Lady Carataca."

  Macha inhaled deeply, shuddering at this revelation. It confirmed what she had suspected all along. That's why the young assassin had attempted to kill her upon her arrival in Rome.

  "Did he say why he wanted our deaths?" Bassus inquired.

  "No, only that he wanted you dead," Crixus replied. "I was interested in the money."

  "Why did you return to Rome?"

  Horse Arse gulped. "Because...because the attempt on your lives failed. I was of afraid..."

  "Of what?"

  "I would be blamed for the foul-up and killed by those who hired me. That's why I came back. It's easy to lose yourself in this city."

  Bassus grinned. "But we found you."

  Crixus hung his head. "Aye, you did."

  "Are you willing to spy for us?" Bassus asked.

  “Aye,” Crixus whined. He cast his eyes upon the table. “Whatever you want. I’ll even kill for you.”

  “Spying is enough—it’s that or crucifixion.”

  Horse Arse grimaced and looked away. “I said, aye! Just…don’t hurt me anymore.”

  "You are to listen," Bassus instructed, "at the river docks, the forum, and especially, at the baths for any and all stories and rumors regarding the conspiracy against the Emperor. I want names of those who might be involved."

  Macha soon realized the true incentive for him to confess. Bassus offered to extend Horse Arse’s current contract to supply horses, to the way stations of Northern Italy for an additional three years. The Senator told him that his debts would be forgiven if the information led to the arrest of the conspirators.

  "However," Bassus emphasized, "the names you give me must be of persons truly involved. Only after we have arrested and they have been convicted will you be awarded the contract. Do you understand?"

  "Aye."

  The Senator turned to one of the torturers. "Bring him wine."

  Horse Arse nodded his thanks and greedily drank the vinegary-wine given to him, spilling it from the side of his mouth and down his neck. He admitted involvement with the assassination attempt on Macha and Bassus on the road to Luna and also in Rome. “My mistake was…was recruiting my idiot brother-in-law…for the attack.”

  “Sergius Faunus never mentioned he was related to you,” Bassus commented.

  “No, he’s the worst liar I’ve…I’ve ever known.” Horse Arse took a deep breath and paused as if gathering his thoughts. “He lies…even when the truth is to his advantage.”

  Just like you, Macha wanted to say.

  “What is the name of the assassin who tried to kill Lady Carataca here in Rome?” Bassus asked.

  “S…Silius Rufus, but he’s dead.”

  Bassus raised his eyebrows. “How convenient. When and where?”

  “I swear it’s true.” Crixus turned in the direction of the wheel.

  “Go on.”

  “Heard he got caught picking the pocket of…of some ex-gladiator.” He gulped. “Killed him on the spot. Happened early yesterday morning…on the wharf. Anybody there will tell you.”

  “What’s the ex-gladiator’s name?”

  Horse Arse shook his head. “Don’t know for sure, Pug something or other. Never heard of him.”

  “What happened to the body?”

  “Heard the wharf men threw it into the river. Ask them—they’ll tell you. Don’t know if it’s still out there.”

  “I will, but it’s one less criminal to deal with,” Bassus said. "In the meantime, I need to learn more about the ex-gladiator. He may have been involved in the kidnapping of Lady Carataca's son."

  Macha nodded. Yes, I want the same thing, she thought. Perhaps he can lead us to the real traitors. She stepped out of the darkness and approached Crixus. “Do you remember me?”

  “Lady Carataca,” he gasped. He nearly dropped the cup of wine. “About the horse I sold you, I didn’t—“

  “I’m not here to accuse you of cheating me, though you are a thief.” Macha pulled out the scrap of parchment with the letters VE and the three names she didn’t recognize, and the piece containing the image of the eagle. She dangled the segment in front of Crixus’ eyes. “What do you know about these?”

  “Begging your pardon, Lady?” His mind seemed dulled by pain and wine.

  “Read it. Who are they, and what do the two letters mean?”

  “I…don’t read Greek. What does it say?”

  Macha translated the names and letters into Latin.

  “I’ve…I’ve never heard of them,” Crixus answered. “VE makes no sense.”

  “The eagle?”

  “A picture? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This is not the time to lie, Crixus,” Macha said.

  “But I swear…I don’t know anything about a picture or names.”

  The torturer stepped to the table, shoving his red hot iron prod within a finger’s width of Crixus’ dirty feet. The horse trader shoved himself away from the prod and groaned. “I’m telling the truth!”

  Bassus held up his hand, and motioned the torturer to back away.

  “He might be telling the truth, Macha. Why did you show him the document?”

  “I had to learn for myself if Crixus knew its meaning.” Macha handed Bassus her copy of the list and the picture.

  Bassus placed the scrap with the image of the eagle on the table and for a second he scrutinized the names. “I didn’t tell you before, but now that you’ve shown these to Crixus, the name of the one crossed off the list is interesting.”

  “Why?” Ma
cha asked.

  Bassus tapped the parchment with his hand. “He was a member of the Equestrian order. He died at sea in an accident about two-three weeks ago off Messalia.”

  How coincidental, Macha thought. Julius Aquelia, the camp commander, died several weeks before Titus’s arrest in a hunting accident. He knew her husband had no part in the conspiracy against the Emperor.

  “Maybe this one knew too much or changed his mind about joining the conspiracy,” Macha said.

  “If he was involved at all,” Bassus reminded Macha. “We still don’t know for sure. All we have are the notes of a dead slave.”

  “And the other two names?” Macha asked.

  “Both are powerful merchants who are very influential in the palace,” Bassus replied.

  Macha’s mouth tightened. She stepped back and whispered to Bassus, “No doubt these merchants are involved in the conspiracy, and one of them is the thug that Crixus hired to kill us. I’m positive the letters play a part and so does the eagle.”

  Bassus motioned to the parchment. “The letters could mean anything, and nothing—the same for the picture.”

  “Maybe, but something tells me they hold a major key, and it’s here in Rome. It’s probably right in front of us, screaming to be heard.”

  “If so, it’s falling upon deaf ears.”

  Macha turned to Crixus. “Do you mind?” she said to Bassus. “I have only a couple more questions to ask him.”

  “Go ahead.”

  She shot a forefinger in Crixus’ direction. “Why did you kidnap my son?”

  “I swear I had no part of it,” Crixus whined. “Gods, it’s true I hired assassins to kill you and Lord Bassus, but…but I don’t kidnap or kill children.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  Crixus winced and slowly moved a shaky hand to his bony chest. “I’ve a score of nephews and nieces. They’re a bunch of…of little brats, but I like them. I…I swear I don’t know anything about it. If this ex-gladiator like you say had something to do with it, then I'll scour Rome myself 'til I've found him. I swear it!”

  Macha turned to Bassus. “Please, Senator, we must conduct a search of the city for my son—at once!”

  “I agree.” Bassus nodded to Pomponius Appius. “Send a message to the Commander of the Watch. He is to organize a search of Rome for the son of Titus Antonius.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Macha continued her questioning of Crixus. “Why did you return to Rome?”

  “Had business,” he answered. “I rode ahead of you and caught a ship. I believed you dead.”

  “Didn’t you encounter the Praetorians on the way?” Bassus inquired.

  Crixus groaned as he attempted to straighten his back. “I saw them riding in the distance and hid. I didn’t want to meet nobody I ever sold a horse to. They might accuse me of thievery—me, an honest horse trader!”

  Macha stepped away from Crixus, not believing a word he said. Again the letters VE churned in her mind. Great Mother Goddess! It was so obvious, but she had been as blind as a beggar. She might be wrong, but VE could provide the clue she was seeking. Tomorrow she would visit Antonia at the house of the Vestal Virgins.

  Chapter 22

  The Sacred Order of Vesta

  The following morning Macha sat peacefully in the garden with Shafer. At the far end a slave splashed water from a bucket on a row of budding lilies. Nearby, clippers snapped as another worker trimmed a box shrub.

  Macha closed her eyes and tilted her head, welcoming the warmth of the spring sun on her tired face. Although Shafer and she had returned home exhausted after witnessing Crixus’ interrogation and had taken a bath, Macha slept poorly. She relived last night’s horrors in the torture chamber.

  When she managed to push the awful scenes from her mind, thoughts of young Titus’s kidnapping flooded her head. She agonized over his possible treatment, and prayed the thugs hadn’t injured him. Perhaps she should have stayed in Mediolanum. But she refused to languish there doing nothing so long as Titus was imprisoned. At her urging, Bassus sent a message to the Commander of the Watch to begin a search for her son. But the city was so big, nearly one-million souls, and there were so many places where her son could be hidden. Hundreds of caves honeycombed the hills on which the Imperial capital was built—an ideal place to hide. She prayed Mother Goddess the bucket men would be successful.

  Those thoughts had rolled through her mind a dozen times since awakening. Would they never stop? She needed to calm herself and keep the ugly images under control if she were to help Titus and Bassus. What more could she do? Bassus’ intercession allowed her to question Crixus in the torture chamber. To her knowledge, no woman had been allowed that right before. She considered herself fortunate the Senator had not sent her back to his house, escorted by a detail from the Watch.

  The garrison of Mediolanum was searching for her son, but he could be any place in Italy, including Rome. Gods forbid if the kidnappers carried him to Gaul or worse, Germania, and sold him as a slave to the barbarians, but Macha doubted they were that stupid. She prayed he would be ransomed instead.

  Would the abductors be bold enough to bring him to the city? Macha tossed aside the idea as being absurd. Still she had to consider the possibility he was closer to Rome than Mediolanum.

  Shafer rose to her feet. “Mistress, Lord Bassus is here.”

  Immediately, Macha cleared her mind and rubbed her eyes. She glanced to the garden’s entrance and spied Bassus approaching at a brisk pace, his face pinched and eyes narrowed. He wore a Legate’s uniform and a scarlet-plumed helmet.

  Shafer bowed. Macha started to rise, but Bassus motioned her to remain seated. He halted before her marble bench and removed his helmet.

  “I have received orders from Vespasian to sail to Misenum,” Bassus said. He looked down at Macha, frowning.

  Macha sat straighter, her senses now fully alert. “My gods, Titus is to be court-martialed in ten days. Will you return in time?”

  “I’ll make it a point to be here, but even if I sail from Ostia this afternoon, the earliest I can return is five days.”

  Situated on the Bay of Naples, Macha knew Misenum was the home of Rome’s western fleet. If he departed, how could she make inquiries on her husband’s behalf without the Senator’s assistance? “Exactly why is the Emperor sending you?” She asked.

  “I’m to inspect the fleet’s ledgers.” Bassus shifted his helmet from one hand to the other. “Some discrepancies have surfaced. There’s evidence that Admiral Apollinaris siphoned money from the seamen’s burial fund for his personal use. Vespasian ordered me to take immediate action if the charges are true.”

  “But shouldn’t the audit be conducted by one of Vespasian’s Greek accountants?”

  “I’m taking one along. Because I’m a Legate, the Emperor says the authority to deal with the situation rests solely with me.” Bassus shook his head. “The accusations against Admiral Apollinaris are rubbish. He’s one of the most honorable men I know and wealthy in his own right.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time an honest man has succumbed to greed.”

  Bassus nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Vespasian’s Greek treasury secretary, Phidias, advised the Emperor of the allegations.” He snorted. “He thinks the only man capable of resolving the problem is me.”

  The Legate paced back and forth on the gravel path before Macha’s bench. “Something doesn’t smell right about this, Macha. The Emperor didn’t have to wait for my return from the Danubus to deal with this matter. Someone wants me out of Rome.”

  “Aren’t there other officials the Emperor could send to Misenum?” Macha asked.

  He paused and glanced to Shafer and the garden slaves before returning his gaze to Macha. “Vespasian dispatched me, and I can’t argue with the Emperor’s commands. Unfortunately, I am the logical choice. I have the authority to solve the matter of embezzlement if that’s the situation. Once I’ve arrived and conducted a preliminary investigation, I can
delegate overseeing the audit to someone else.”

  “If Admiral Apollinaris is honorable as you say, then this journey is a ruse,” Macha said.

  He exhaled. “I’ll learn soon enough.”

  “Still, your leaving is very sudden. What am I to do while you are away? What if I learn something important that pertains to Titus’ case?”

  “Contact Tribune Appius—he has been informed of the events and will make inquiries on my behalf.”

  “Is there no one else?”

  “Macha, you can trust him. He knows more than you think and does have reservations about Titus’ guilt.”

  “So, he once said.”

  “It’s true," Bassus answered.

  * * * * *

  Later, after Bassus departed for Ostia, Macha and Shafer, escorted by slave guards, went to visit Antonia, in the house of the Vestal Virgins, astride the eastern edge of the Forum. To Macha’s surprise, the female gatekeeper said the priestess wasn’t seeing anyone, and didn’t know when Antonia would receive visitors again.

  Puzzled by Antonia’s sudden change of heart, Macha and Shafer turned away. Yesterday, Antonia had been friendly and willing to help.

  Riding in a litter as her entourage crossed the noisy Forum, Macha paid little attention to the spirited haggling between customers and shopkeepers at the portable vending stands surrounding the public square or the many smells wafting through the area on a light breeze. She kept mulling Antonia’s refusal to see her.

  As the wife of an accused traitor, Macha realized she had placed Antonia in a precarious position by speaking to her in public at the Forum. No doubt the Chief Vestal, Licinia, had received word about the conversation. As Virgo Maxima, she had the authority to prohibit Antonia from further contact with Macha. Somehow she had to find a way of relaying a message to Antonia. Conceivably, if she informed her friend about young Titus’ kidnapping, the priestess might change her mind about speaking to Macha. Antonia had been the most accessible of all Vestal Virgins.

  Macha expressed her concern to Shafer, who walked alongside her sedan.