The Sign of the Eagle Read online

  “You should not have stopped me here,” The Greek was saying. “It’s too dangerous; we could be seen together.”

  Macha leaned forward to hear.

  “In a back alley, not likely, Phidias,” Falco answered.

  "Don't use my name! Someone may overhear us." Phidias looked down the narrow trash-filled lane in both directions and returned his gaze to Falco. “The danger is real enough; I think I am being watched.”

  “That’s why I haven’t gone to your apartment. If anyplace, the Emperor’s spies are watching you there. And I can’t go to the palace; that would be too obvious.”

  Phidias nodded.

  “Perhaps we should meet somewhere this evening,” Falco said, “a scummy bar where everyone minds his own business.”

  The secretary shook his head. “Out of the question. I don’t venture from home after dark. The city is too dangerous.”

  “You’ll be in greater danger if you don’t. Can’t you get an escort?” Falco asked in a voice of growing impatience.

  “I only have one slave, and he is useless for protection. If I hired more, than I would draw too much attention, even in a tavern.”

  “Then where can we talk?”

  Phidias exhaled and again his eyes searched the alley. “Since you are here, you might as well speak and be done with it.”

  “What news of Pollia and the list?” Falco asked as he looked over his shoulder.

  Macha jolted. Her hand flew to her mouth, she placed fingers between her teeth, and clamped down. So Pollia was involved in the plot after all. What does she know about Young Titus' kidnapping?

  The Greek said with a long sweeping gesture to Falco, “Pollia keeps a copy of the list on her person.”

  “She's mad! We're damn lucky Pugnax was killed at the baths," Falco replied in a lower voice. "If he had been captured, the Watch would have tortured him, sure. He would have told them everything."

  "Senator Bassus and that barbarian witch are getting too close. Either Pollia hides the list or we must get it from her,” Phidias said.

  "Should anyone discover Pollia's involved, she'll be arrested and the list found. Then they'll know Titus had no part in getting rid of Vespasian."

  For a split second, Macha glanced at Clodia and Shafter. The emaciated shop woman touched Macha on the shoulder and nodded. A big white-toothed grin erupted across Shafer's dark face. Titus is innocent! I knew it! Macha thought to herself. She strained to hear more. Clodia and Shafer leaned slightly forward.

  “Are you aware the original list is deposited in the Temple of Vesta?” the Greek asked.

  "What!" For a split second, Falco violently shook his head. “No, I wasn’t aware.”

  “It is, and only Antonia knows about it,” Phidias said, his hand gesticulating again.

  “How did she learn about the list? Her knowledge could destroy us.”

  “Pollia wouldn’t say why. She says Antonia doesn’t pose a threat, but I disagree. Regardless, Pollia sent me a message demanding the group act at once.”

  Falco turned from side to side. “That’s impossible. Not everything and everybody is in place.”

  Macha suspicions were confirmed. Vespasian’s secretary was involved in the conspiracy. And Pollia? Was she the woman Antonia refused to identify the night they met at the quarry? The one who could expose the Vestal and Bassus to public disgrace? It had to be Pollia. She glanced to the other women, who shook their heads.

  Phidias narrowed his deep-set little eyes. “Don’t those fools realize they must act soon? If they are discovered, Vespasian will hunt them down like dogs. Persia’s the only country that will grant asylum—if they’re fortunate enough to escape.”

  “I know only too well,” Falco said through clenched teeth. “They’ll have to beg the king on their hands and knees.”

  “See if you can get them to move at once,” Phidias urged. “You have to try.”

  “All right,” Falco said. “We don’t have much of a choice. I’ll contact the members and see if we have enough support now to mount an attempt.”

  “You must act at once before the Emperor learns.”

  “What about the boy?” Falco asked. “Has Pollia decided what she’s going to do with him?”

  Macha gasped. Fear shot down her spine like a freezing wind off the Apennines. Clodia shot a warning look in her direction. Shafer’s almond eyes widened. For a second Macha feared she had been heard.

  They ceased speaking—and then Phidias went on. “She sent a message to the one caring for the boy.”

  “Has she told you who’s keeping him or where he’s hidden?”

  “She refuses to tell anyone anything. She has a perverse obsession about the whole affair. It won’t help her. The un-named woman who is caring for the boy said it was one matter to kidnap a child, but murder was out of the question.”

  “Pollia must be furious.”

  Like dawn after a dark night, a sense of relief filled Macha. Young Titus was still alive! She continued listening to Falco and Phidias.

  “Indeed, Pollia better not attempt anything foolish,” Phidias said.

  “How can she?” Falco asked.

  “The woman has her methods.”

  Glancing back to where Lepidus her husband stood, Clodia saw customers filling the shop.

  “Clodia!” Lepidus shouted. “Get over here; I need you to wait on customers.”

  Distracted by Lepidus’ order, Macha and Shafer turned from the flap door. An instant later, Macha turned back to the alley. Falco and Phidias were gone. She hugged Shafer.

  “Titus is still alive. Thank Mother Goddess!”

  “Oh, Mistress, that’s wonderful news. Now what will you do?”

  “I must tell Bassus immediately. The Emperor has to be warned. Once he knows about the conversation, Pollia is certain to be taken to the palace for questioning. Falco and Phidias are sure to be arrested.”

  Macha and Shafer returned to the front of the stall where Clodia was bartering with a customer. They waited until she finished.

  When the buyer paid for his cabbages and departed, Clodia and Macha stepped away from the counter. Clodia asked little Silvia, who had returned from an errand, to deal with the next patron.

  “How did you know I would be interested in their conversation?” Macha asked.

  “I overheard them mentioning your husband’s name,” Clodia explained. “I was about to spit in the alley when I saw them talking—it was unnerving. I stepped inside before they spotted me. But I was curious, why should they talk about your husband? If so, why out there where others might see them? That was strange to me. But I decided to hear the rest. First I turned to see if Lepidus needed help and saw you.” She smiled.

  “Did you know who they were?” Macha inquired.

  “I recognized Phidias right away. He’s a regular customer, one of the Emperor’s secretaries. I remembered you said he sent Senator Bassus to Misenum for no good reason.”

  “That’s right,” Macha confirmed.

  “Who was the other man?” Clodia asked.

  “His name is Falco,” Macha answered, her face growing hot.

  “By the looks on your face and sound of your voice, he’s someone you don’t like,” Clodia said.

  “Falco is a tribune in the army─and a traitor,” Shafer said.

  “Then they’re up to no good, are they?” Clodia asked.

  “No good at all,” Macha answered. “Why was Phidias here at this time of day?”

  “He always shops at this hour,” Clodia answered. “Phidias lives nearby. He says Lepidus and I are honest folk and sell the best produce in the marketplace.” She smiled. “He doesn’t know you and I are friends.”

  “Neither does Falco,” Macha said. “You don’t know what a great help you’ve been, Clodia. This will save my husband’s life and maybe my son’s.” She embraced Clodia and smiled.

  “I’m happy for you, too, Lady Carataca. I’m glad to help.”

  “Shafer,” Macha said, “we
must find Senator Bassus, quickly!”

  Chapter 34

  Incident at the House of Vesta

  As shopkeepers slammed shutters over their shops and stalls for the night, Macha and Shafer hurried homeward. Long shadows crept down the dingy streets and alleys, stealthily blackening the narrow lanes. People, rich and poor, hurried to the precarious safety of their dwellings before Rome’s criminal element surfaced from the caverns beneath the city. Macha pitied those unfortunate souls caught on the streets after dark. A shudder roiled through her body when she thought of how they risked the chance of being robbed and murdered. At least she had the security of Viriatus, eight new retainers, and her six litter bearers for protection. She ordered the latter to quicken the pace.

  The sun dipped below the distant hills, and the evening grew cooler with each passing minute. Macha wrapped her fine woolen mantle about her shoulders and covered her head. Tucking her hands inside the garment she warmed her cold fingers.

  From the passing tenements and cook houses drifted odors of baking bread, lentil soup, and broiling fish, reminding Macha she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, too busy to think about it. Now she was famished.

  Arriving at the torch-lit mansion, Macha stepped from the sedan. Once she told Bassus the news about Falco, she was certain he would be arrested and Titus cleared. Brushing the gatekeeper aside, she hurried into the Senator’s house. Glimmering light from smoky olive oil lamps cast shadows on the muraled walls and polished mosaic floor. She entered Bassus’ study, expecting to find him working on household accounts, but discovered the room empty. Disappointed, Macha wondered if he still was in his private bath. No, the hour was too late. As she started down the hallway, Vasili, the chief steward, approached her from a side entrance.

  Macha stopped, placed her hands on narrow hips, and leaned forward in his direction. The gaunt servant, a head shorter than Macha, scraped his sandaled feet to a halt. “Where is Lord Bassus?” She asked.

  “He went to the palace, Lady Carataca.”

  She stared at Vasili in disbelief. “At this hour?”

  The Greek looked about as if he wanted to escape Macha’s scrutiny. “The Emperor sent a messenger about an hour ago, summoning him at once.”

  “Whatever for?” she asked. The matter must be urgent.

  Vasili swallowed and lowered his squinty eyes. “The Chief Vestal Virgin, Licinia, is dead.”

  Both hands shot to her face. “What did you say?” Macha choked on the words.

  “She is dead, my lady—a tragic loss to Rome. According to the courier, she committed suicide.”

  Slowly, Macha dropped her hands. “Did you hear more?”

  “Nothing, except the Emperor commanded my master to investigate the incident once he was briefed by the Praetorian Prefect.”

  “I wonder why he chose Senator Bassus, and not the Commander of the Praetorian Guard?”

  “I’m sorry, I do not know, Lady Carataca. Lord Bassus said the Emperor wanted a thorough investigation to make certain Mother Licinia wasn’t murdered.”

  Shock enshrouded Macha like a heavy woolen blanket. Why would the Chief Vestal take her own life? Why was Bassus chosen to investigate Licinia's death? Macha still feared once Pollia was arrested she would divulge Antonia's and Bassus' affair to the Emperor.

  The word of a Vestal Virgin carried greater weight than a traitor’s, but Macha was still concerned for her two dear friends and her son.

  While Vasili waited to be dismissed, Macha stood on cold tiles pondering what to do next. Did Licinia commit suicide, or was this a sinister cover-up for murder? Or was there something else at stake?

  “I’m going to the Palace of Augustus, Vasili,” The Palace of Augustus was one of many porticoed structures making up the Imperial residence, covering Palatine Hill and rising above the Forum. The palatial compound had a commanding view of the Circus Maximus and Rome’s six other hills.

  Macha said a few seconds later, “I’ll wait there for Bassus’ return from Priestess Licinia’s investigation. Let Lord Bassus know where I am. Send for my litter at once.”

  * * * * *

  Macha arrived at the palace, and to her relief learned Bassus had returned from the House of Vesta and was conferring with the Emperor. Across the gaping audience hall, where Macha waited with Shafer and Viriatus, Bassus’ footfalls echoed on the polished marble floor. According to the water clock, which sat in a gloomy niche of the hallway, two hours had dripped away since her arrival. She had grown numb waiting on the hard wooden bench for Bassus’ arrival. Stiffly, she rose to her feet at his approach. The long day and investigation had taken its toll on him. In the flickering smoky light of oil lamps lining the frescoed walls, Macha noticed dark rings surrounded his bloodshot eyes and heavy gray stubble covered his face.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” Bassus said in a weary voice. He ignored her hand maiden and retainer. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

  “I have important news, Senator Bassus. It couldn’t wait, especially, when I heard about Licinia’s death, I had to see you right away.”

  Bassus motioned to Shafer and Viriatus and pointed to the far end of the reception room. “Wait there.”

  Once the two had departed, he asked, “What is it?”

  Macha informed Bassus that earlier that day she, Clodia, and Shafer observed Falco and Phidias in the alley behind the shop and overheard their conversation. She gave him the details.

  “This news is too serious to wait,” Bassus said when Macha finished.

  He summoned the court chamberlain and requested another audience with the Emperor. “Tell him it’s urgent; his life is in peril.”

  As they waited for the Emperor’s summons, Macha mulled over Licinia’s death, curious about the circumstances. The muscles in her neck tightened and her stomach churned. “Senator Bassus, can you tell me what you learned about Licinia’s death?”

  Bassus nodded. He sat on the bench next to Macha. “Licinia committed suicide. I found no evidence of foul play.”

  The tension drained from Macha’s body as she quietly exhaled.

  “By rights the investigation of Licinia’s death was the jurisdiction of the Praetorian Guard,” Bassus said, “because the Vestals are answerable only to the Emperor.”

  “Then why were you chosen to investigate and not the Praetorian Prefect?”

  He leaned closer. “Vespasian knows there are traitors among the ranks of the Praetorians and doesn’t trust the Praetorian Prefect. I immediately went to the Vestals house at the head of a contingent of hand-picked Praetorian Guards. Pomponius Appius came along as my aide.”

  “What happened at the House of Vesta?”

  Bassus shook his head. “When I arrived, I found a large noisy crowd congregating in front of the porticoed courtyard, dangerously close to the Sacred House. Word had spread like a firestorm about the high priestess’ death. I ordered the troops to use their shields and javelins to shove the mob back to the lane between the Temples of Castor and Pollux and the deified Julius Caesar. That’s a respectful distance from the residence.”

  Macha knew the home sat across from the Forum, opposite Palatine Hill where the Emperor lived. The sprawling porticoed fifty-room building surrounded a spacious courtyard, containing three large ponds and flesh-colored statues of honored Vestals. A little circular tiled-roof temple sat behind the house, protected by a high wall. Here was sheltered the Sacred Flame, symbolic of Rome’s eternal power.

  “Pomponius Appius and I conducted a quick but thorough investigation at the scene of the death,” Bassus said, stirring Macha from her thoughts. “All household slaves and surviving priestesses were interviewed. Since we were investigating a suicide, it was one of the few times we, as men, were permitted in a house at night reserved for women only.”

  “What was Antonia’s role in the investigation?” Macha asked.

  “Antonia is now the acting Virgo Maxima.”

  Macha was pleased but not surprised by the revelation. Now tha
t Licinia was dead, Antonia was senior priestess. She saw Shafer and Viriatus lingering in the shadows of the reception room and wondered if they could hear the conversation.

  Bassus continued. “Antonia maintained her dignity and command of the situation. She displayed an official concern about Licinia’s death and acknowledged me only as a Senator conducting an inquiry on behalf of the Emperor.”

  Macha twisted her fingers. “Who discovered the body and where?”

  “A household slave found her in the temple,” Bassus answered tersely. He rubbed his puffy eyes and glanced to the abysmal black of the audience room. “The woman attends the chief priestess in prayer. When she found the body, she fled the temple and summoned Antonia.”

  “What did you find when you went there, Senator?”

  “Licinia’s body was lying in a pool of thickening blood before a small copy of the statue of Mother Vesta.”

  Macha winced.

  “The dagger was still wedged in her body, just as the slave described,” Bassus said. “Then I watched as Tribune Appius kneeled and closely examined the body in the cubicle. He discovered bloodstains on Licinia’s hands.”

  Macha nodded; she wasn’t surprised by the revelation.

  “There were no defensive wounds on her arms or hands and no residue under her finger nails to indicate an attempt to fight off any assailant,” Bassus continued. “Given the evidence at the scene, the odds of her being murdered are very remote. Appius discovered a deep laceration through her stomach, and a couple of shallow slashes in the same area. They appeared to be test wounds.”

  For a moment Macha stared at Bassus. She had never heard of anything so bizarre. “Why would she do a thing like that before killing herself?”

  “It may sound strange to you,” he answered with a shrug, “but suicide victims sometimes are curious about how painful taking their life will be. For many it’s too much to endure. It wasn’t enough to stop Licinia.”

  “Did you discover anything else?”