Robert Fabbri: The Dreams of Morpheus

‘I imagine he will try to reach some sort of arrangement with us.’

Duilius cleared his throat. ‘That’s what we thought he would do, try to buy you off with a small percentage of the huge profit that he’s liable to make, then you and he will leave us to suffer.’

Magnus’ eyes hardened as he stood, almost pushing the bench over and Servius with it. ‘We take your money for two reasons, Duilius.’ He pointed to the altar of the Crossroads Lares embedded in the tavern’s walls; a flame burnt there constantly, tended by one of the brothers in turn. ‘First, to help service our sacred duty to the deities of this area, for the good of the whole community. Second, to protect you from outside interference. If you are being ripped off, then we will see justice done and not be bought off by the perpetrator, whomever it is – even if he comes from a family that has held the consulship. Do you understand me, Duilius? If I ever hear you questioning my honesty again things may not go so well for a few of your slaves and then how would your business be, if you take my meaning?’

Duilius held his hands up. ‘Forgive me, patronus; I didn’t mean to imply that you would take the bribe. I just meant that I thought you would be offered one.’

Magnus sat back down. ‘Very well.’ He looked round the crowd. ‘Is there anything else?’ There were negative murmurs and shakes of heads. ‘I’ll work out a way of having a private chat with Publius Aufidius Brutus and try to impress upon him the need to desist in this matter.’

‘We want more than that, Magnus,’ Duilius said. ‘We want him to return the grain he has already cheated us out of, or the cash equivalent.’

Knowing the greed of the senatorial classes in Rome – in fact, of all the classes in the city – Magnus felt that would be nigh on impossible; but to say so before he had even tried would be construed as weak. ‘Very well. I suggest you all go about your business now as you must have much to do.’ Magnus ran his fingers through his greying hair as the crowd dispersed and then turned to Servius. ‘Have Terentius come and see me at the eighth hour.’

Servius frowned. ‘What use is a whore-boy master in a business like this?’

‘It’s about the other current issue.’ Magnus got to his feet, shaking his head. ‘How do I put pressure on an aedile if he ignores my warning, as I suspect he will?’

‘Senator Pollo owes us for last night; perhaps he can exert some influence?’ Servius suggested, following Magnus back into the tavern.

‘I doubt it.’ Magnus headed for his table in the corner with a good view of the door; the few early morning drinkers made way for him and Servius. Cassandros stepped out from behind the amphorae-lined bar to place a full jug of wine and two cups on the table as they sat. ‘Senators don’t like to squeeze one another unless it’s at least partly for their own personal gain. Of course I’ll ask the senator but I guarantee he’ll say that he has no influence over Brutus, which means that he has nothing to gain by it.’

Servius pushed a full cup across the table. ‘Then let’s find a way to make Brutus’ humiliation of value to our tame senator. I believe his elder nephew, Sabinus, has managed to get himself elected as one of the aediles for next year.’

Magnus froze in the act of putting the cup to his mouth; he thought for a moment, then smiled and pointed his index finger at his counsellor. ‘Now that, my old friend, is deep thinking.’

Magnus heaved his way through the crowds in Caesar’s Forum with Marius and Sextus to either side of him; all three wore their plain white citizens’ togas. None of them spoke as they negotiated a passage through the milling citizenry listening to a case in an open-air law court, or petitioning the Urban Prefect or one of the lesser magistrates who carried out the city’s public business every day under the great equestrian statue of the former dictator that dominated his forum.

As they approached the magistrates presiding beneath the Divine Julius, Magnus glimpsed a young man in a senatorial toga, seated at a desk; his almost black hair was oiled and combed forward from the back of his head as if covering premature balding. Magnus stopped to look more closely. ‘There’s our boy, lads.’

‘He looks very pleased with himself,’ Marius commented as Brutus stood and grinned, grasping the forearm of an Easterner in a white headdress, and slapping his shoulder before taking a scroll from him.

‘Business always brings a smile to my face, brother.’ Magnus moved forward as the Urban Prefect joined Brutus and his Eastern associate, dispensing back slaps and toothy smiles all round.

‘They must be doing a lot of business to be that happy,’ Sextus observed in his slow manner.

Magnus waited until the Easterner had moved off and Brutus had sat down, unrolling the scroll, before walking up to him. ‘Aedile?’

Brutus looked up from the scroll. ‘Mmm. Oh, it’s you; Magnus, isn’t it?’

‘You know perfectly well that’s my name, aedile.’

‘I don’t like your tone.’

‘I’m not asking you to like it; I’m asking you to listen to what I have to say.’

Brutus sighed. ‘You have a right to approach your magistrate; I’m listening.’

‘The people of my area believe they are being given short measures at the grain dole.’

‘Do they now?’ Brutus wrinkled his nose. ‘And what makes them believe that?’

‘They’ve checked what they receive against what they know to be the correct measurement and they want me to ask you to look into it.’

‘I’ve heard from my sources that a nasty little specimen by the name of Duilius is stirring people up; no doubt it was he who asked you to come here. Well, you’ve asked me and I can assure you that they are wrong.’ Brutus leant closer to Magnus. ‘Perhaps, for a small consideration every month to your Brotherhood’s coffers, you could reassure Duilius and his friends for me?’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, aedile; that is exactly what my people expect to happen. And it’s out of consideration for your well-being that I would ask you again to look into the matter.’

‘Are you threatening me, Magnus?’

‘Not at all, aedile; it’s just that I wouldn’t like to be responsible for your safety walking in an area where the people may have an unfounded grudge against you.’

Brutus scoffed. ‘The people know their place; they would never dare lay hands on an elected magistrate.’

‘So that’s a refusal then?’

‘There is nothing for me to refuse; the measures all conform to imperial standards and they all have the imperial stamp on them to prove that.’

Magnus held the aedile’s look for a good few moments; neither blinked. ‘Thank you for your time, aedile.’

Brutus sniffed and returned to reading his scroll.

‘What will you do now, Magnus?’ Marius asked as they negotiated a path towards the Senate House in the Forum Romanum.

‘Tempt a senator into doing what we want by dangling the chance of patronage in front of him.’

The steps to the Senate House were relatively deserted compared to the bustle of Caesar’s Forum behind it. Magnus glanced around at the few senators either on their way in or out of the ancient heart of government of the Roman world. The doors were open so that the Conscript Fathers could be seen at their deliberations by the populace; it was barely an eighth full. ‘We’ll have to wait, lads; he’ll be out soon.’

‘Magnus, I could no more ask that of the Urban Prefect,’ Gaius confided, ‘than invite him for a cosy dinner for two and some fun afterwards with my Germanic boys; it would be presumptuous.’

Magnus walked alongside his patron as Sextus and Marius cleared the way for them. ‘I understand that, sir; but if it were to come to his attention that this problem is potentially the cause of serious unrest that could result in him appearing ineffective to the Emperor, then perhaps he would consent to your suggestion in the Senate to order an examination of every modius measure used in the grain dole.’