Simon Scarrow - Praetorian

‘In that case, it’s enough for you to know that we served with Vitellius in the Second Legion in Britannia. We didn’t see eye to eye on a few issues.’

Macro chuckled. ‘To put it fucking mildly.’

‘In any case,’ Cato continued, ‘we can’t afford to have him at liberty. He can link us to the disappearance of Lurco. Until our job is done, he has to be kept out of sight. He’ll have to go with Lurco.’

‘Or we could get rid of him,’ Macro suggested and then raised a hand to placate Cato as his friend glared at him. ‘Just trying to think through the options.’

Septimus sucked in an anxious breath. ‘Narcissus is not going to like this. Matters are already slipping out of our control. Vitellius must be dealt with.’

There was a groan and the three men turned to see that Vitellius was stirring.

‘He has to be blindfolded,’ Cato said quietly to Septimus. ‘He’s seen more than enough already. We don’t want him to identify you.’

‘Quite. Deal with it and put him in the other room while we talk to Lurco. We need to find out what he knows about the Liberators’ plot.’

Macro took out his dagger and cut a strip from Vitellius’s cloak which he wrapped twice round Vitellius’s face before tying it off securely. Then he put his hands under the former tribune’s shoulders and hauled him into the next room where he dumped him on the floor. The shock of the impact brought Vitellius to full consciousness and he mumbled into his gag as he writhed on the ground. Macro pressed his boot down on Vitellius’s shoulder.

‘Don’t move,’ he growled, ‘and we might let you live. Cause any trouble and I swear, by all the gods, that I’ll cut your throat. Understand?’

The other man stopped struggling and laid still, chest rising and falling. He nodded.

‘There’s a good patrician,’ Macro said, with contempt. He turned away and returned to the other room where Cato and Septimus had propped the other captive up against the wall. Septimus pulled up his hood to conceal his features. Lurco was moaning faintly and Cato reached forward to pull the gag from his mouth. Lurco retched and an acidic waft of breath struck Cato’s face. The centurion mumbled incoherently as his eyes flickered and Cato slapped him.

‘Come on! Wake up!’

‘Whharr … What?’ Lurco blinked and jerked his head back against the wall with a sharp crack. He winced and let out a pained groan.

‘Oh great,’ Macro mumbled. ‘All we need is for the idiot to get knocked out again.’

‘Shhh!’ Cato hissed irritably. He leant forward and roughly shook Lurco’s shoulder. ‘Lurco … Centurion Lurco!’

The man groaned and opened his eyes again, blinking as he struggled to focus. He glanced at the faces in front of him and his eyes widened in surprise. ‘I know you. Of course I know you. Guardsmen Capito and Calidus. The new recruits.’ He frowned as he tried to make out Septimus’s face, but it was shadowed by the hood of his cloak and Lurco gave up and returned his attention to Cato and Macro.

‘By the gods, I’ll have you both crucified for this! Assaulting a superior officer and kidnapping him. You’ll be shown no mercy.’

‘Shut up,’ Cato snapped, raising his fist threateningly. ‘You’re the one in trouble. Unless you answer our questions truthfully.’

For the first time Lurco looked uncertain, then scared. He swallowed anxiously and licked his lips before responding in a soft voice. ‘Questions?’

‘Don’t play the innocent,’ snapped Septimus. ‘We know you’re part of the conspiracy.’

Lurco’s brow creased. ‘What do you mean? What conspiracy?’

Septimus kicked him in the stomach, then, as Lurco gasped for breath, he stabbed a finger at him. ‘No more warnings. We ask, you answer. Clear?’

‘Yes …’ Lurco whispered. ‘Quite clear.’

‘Right then. You were named by a traitor who recently fell into our hands. He gave you up before we finished with him. Said that you were one of the ringleaders of the plot to overthrow the Emperor.’

‘It’s a lie!’ Lurco shook his head desperately. ‘I’m not a traitor. For Jupiter’s sake, I swore an oath of loyalty!’

‘So did the man we questioned. Didn’t stop him betraying Claudius. Nor you.’

‘No. It’s a mistake.’

‘True enough,’ Septimus replied and nodded to Macro. ‘See what you can do to loosen his tongue, or his teeth.’

‘My pleasure.’ Macro smiled coldly and bunched his fists. He hooked his right into the centurion’s cheek and Lurco’s head jerked hard to the side. A fiery stab of pain shot down Macro’s arm, adding to the existing pain following his earlier contact with the wall when he had felled Vitellius. Lurco let out a deep groan. He turned, dazed, to face his questioners again; their shadows, distorted and menacing, played over the far wall of the room. He spat out a bloody gobbet then spoke with quiet sincerity. ‘I’m innocent, I tell you.’

‘I see,’ Septimus sneered. ‘Then why were you named as a traitor?’

‘I-I don’t know. But I swear it’s a lie.’

‘Pah! You’re the liar, Lurco. And a pretty poor one at that. I want the truth. Macro!’

Lurco’s eyes snapped towards Macro, wide and pleading. This time Macro struck him with his left, and Lurco took it just above the ear as he tried to move his head out of the way. The centurion winced and his eyelids fluttered for a moment.

‘Please … please. I’m innocent,’ he mumbled.

Septimus regarded him in silence and then stretched up to his full height, narrowly missing one of the beams in the low ceiling. He regarded the centurion for a while and then scratched his nose. ‘What do you think, lads? Is he being straight with us?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cato replied, playing along. ‘Remember how long the other traitor lasted before he spilled his guts? It’s just a question of how long we have to beat him before he gives up any information. Let’s get on with it.’

My pleasure,’ Macro growled, edging forward, his fists raised.

‘For pity’s sake!’ Lurco bleated. ‘This is wrong. All wrong. I’m loyal to Claudius. I’m innocent. You have to believe me!’

‘No we don’t.’ Macro pressed his hands together and cracked his knuckles, hoping that he wouldn’t have to strike the man again with his bad hand.

‘Look at it from our position,’ Septimus continued in a more kindly tone. ‘Why should we believe you and not the man who gave us your name?’

‘Because I’m telling the truth. Ask your man again. Ask him why he’s lying.’

‘We can’t, unfortunately. He died under questioning.’

Lurco went pale. When he spoke again his voice took on a pleading tone. ‘Look, there’s been a mistake. The man you interrogated, he must have got my name wrong.’

‘No, no.’ Septimus clicked his tongue. ‘He was very specific. Centurion Lurco, Sixth Century, Third Cohort of the Praetorian Guard. That is you, isn’t it? There’s no mistake.’

‘Then … then he must have been lying.’

Septimus exchanged an inquiring glace with Cato. ‘What do you think?’

Cato pretended to reflect for a moment. ‘It’s possible. But then there’s the other matter.’

‘Oh?’

‘That other business we discovered. The fact that Centurion Sinius wants him killed. That doesn’t seem to make any sense. Very peculiar.’

‘Yes.’ Septimus nodded. ‘Peculiar.’

Lurco looked from one to the other with growing apprehension. ‘Sinius wants me dead? What’s going on?’

‘It’s simple,’ Macro said. ‘Sinius gave us orders to kill you.’

‘But we brought you here instead,’ Cato continued. ‘We already know that Sinius is part of the conspiracy. The thing that’s puzzling us is why one conspirator would give orders for another conspirator to be murdered. Care to shed any light on that mystery?’