Simon Scarrow - Praetorian

‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself,’ Macro said drily. ‘Maybe you’re right but that doesn’t help us to discover how the Liberators are intending to do away with Claudius.’

‘I know.’ Cato’s expression resumed its earlier weariness. ‘All the same, I must let Narcissus know about my suspicions as soon as possible. If I’m right, then the threat to Claudius is greater than Narcissus knows.’

‘After today’s dowsing, I think Narcissus might just be thinking that already.’

Cato laughed. The sensation felt as if a burden had been lifted from his mind. He realised how exhausted he was. Aside from the strength-sapping struggle against the body of water that swept him away and down the river, Cato was covered with scratches and bruises from the battering he had endured in the process. He needed rest badly, and looking at Macro he could see that his friend did too.

‘The hour’s late. We should get some sleep.’

Macro nodded and they rose stiffly and made their way out of the mess. They exchanged nods with the men still playing dice and then closed the door behind them. Outside a long colonnade led to the stairs up to the second storey. They had passed the centurion’s quarters and office and then the first of the section rooms when they saw a figure by the foot of the stairs pace slowly towards them. The man’s features were indiscernible. He stopped ten feet away, blocking their path. Cato strained his eyes and could just make out that the man was covered in mud. He wore a tunic and boots and his dagger scabbard was empty. His sword hung against his left hip, as was the custom for officers. Cato swore a silent oath and stood to attention.

‘Centurion Tigellinus. Sir, I thought we had lost you.’

‘Tigellinus?’ Macro began, then snapped to attention beside Cato.

The other man was breathing heavily, and there was a pause as he stared back. Then his lips parted in a faint grin.

‘Back from the dead, that’s what I am. Bloody river swept me on for miles before I grounded on some stinking mudbank. By the time I got out and made my way back to the lake, the rest of you had gone and it was dark. So I marched back here.’ He took a step forward and stared at Cato. ‘So what happened?’

‘Sir?’

‘The Emperor, did he survive?’

‘Yes, sir.’

There was no expression in the centurion’s mud-streaked face and he remained silent for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was unnaturally calm and measured. ‘Was it you that saved the Emperor’s life?’

‘No, sir. It was Tribune Burrus.’ Cato lowered his voice and spoke deliberately. ‘Although you might easily have reached the Emperor first, had you not stumbled.’

‘Yes, I would have reached him,’ Tigellinus replied flatly. ‘Was the Emperor injured?’

‘No, sir. Just badly shaken by the incident. The survivors of the escort took him to the palace before returning to the Praetorian camp.’

‘I see.’ Tigellinus was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he cleared his throat. ‘How many casualties among our lads?’

‘Over a third of the century, sir. Though some of them are marked down as missing, including you.’

‘Then Fuscius is in command?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Sleeping it off, sir. Do you want us to wake him and send him to you?’

Tigellinus thought a moment and shook his head. ‘No need. Just tell him that I’ve returned and he’s back to normal duties when the morning trumpet sounds.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The centurion regarded Cato and Macro in silence until Macro coughed lightly.

‘Is there anything else, sir?’

‘I’m not sure. Is there anything else that you two want to tell me?’

‘Sir?’ Macro responded innocently.

‘I wonder, did you have any specific orders to carry out today?’

‘Orders, sir?’ Cato intervened. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t play the fool with me, Capito. You, Calidus and I are sufficiently well acquainted with Centurion Sinius and his friends to know what we are all about. So you don’t have to pretend otherwise. I’ll ask you again. Did Sinius give you any orders today?’ Tigellinus leant forward slightly, his intent gaze flicking between Cato and Macro. ‘Well?’

Cato felt his heartbeat quicken and feared that his inner turmoil might be read in his face. He strove to keep a steady and neutral expression as he stared back at the centurion with unwavering eyes. It was tempting to deny everything and play dumb. But it was clear that Tigellinus knew about their connection to the Liberators, probably from his dealings with Centurion Sinius, or perhaps another conspirator higher up the chain of command. Equally clearly he suspected that their orders were being withheld from him.

With a sudden flare of insight Cato realised that Tigellinus was as fearful as he was. If his masters had given separate orders to either Cato or Macro, or both, then it was clear that they did not trust him enough to share that information. Worse, they might actually distrust Tigellinus enough to order a separate attempt on the Emperor’s life in case Tigellinus failed. Cato had to make his response quickly, before the centurion turned his attention to Macro. He made his decision. If the Liberators were on the verge of attempting to overthrow the Emperor then it was important to disrupt their plans.

‘Yes, sir,’ Cato replied in a wary tone. ‘Sinius told me of your orders, and said that I was to carry the assassination through if you failed for any reason.’

Tigellinus drew a long, deep breath and exhaled through clenched teeth. ‘I see. And you did not think to tell me this?’

‘Centurion Sinius told me to watch you and act if I needed to. He did not say that I should make you aware of my orders. I assumed that you either knew already, or that you weren’t supposed to know of my part in the attempt.’

Tigellinus stared at Cato for a moment and then switched his gaze to Macro. ‘And you? What did you know of this, Calidus?’

‘Nothing, sir,’ Macro answered truthfully.

Tigellinus turned back to Cato. ‘Why is that, I wonder?’

Cato shrugged. ‘A secret shared is a risk doubled, sir. Perhaps that’s why Sinius told only me to keep a watch on you.’

‘Perhaps,’ Tigellinus mused. ‘At least I know where I stand in the eyes of our good friends, the Liberators.’

‘Sir, I don’t know if I should have told you this. Sinius didn’t expressly say that I shouldn’t. But perhaps it would be best if he did not know we had spoken.’

Tigellinus’s face slid into a crafty expression. ‘I shan’t say anything, for now, Capito. But in future, if Sinius tells you anything, then you tell me. Is that clear?’

‘I’m not certain that would be wise, sir.’

‘I’m sure it wouldn’t. But if I were to tell Sinius that you spilled the beans so easily then I doubt he would consider you a reliable, or inexpendable, member of the conspiracy. You understand? In future, when he speaks to you, you speak to me. If you don’t then I shall make your life difficult, not to mention dangerous. Clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Cato nodded. ‘As you wish.’

‘Quite. Now, out of my way. I have to get this bloody mud off me and my kit.’

Cato and Macro stepped aside and a foul odour wafted into the air between them as Tigellinus strode by. They watched him reach the end of the colonnade, enter his quarters and shut the door with a crash.

Macro turned to Cato with a cold stare. ‘What was that all about? You never said anything about Sinius’s orders.’

‘That’s because he never said anything to me.’

‘What?’ Macro frowned then jerked his thumb in the direction of the centurion’s quarters. ‘Then why tell him different?’