S. Turney - Sons of Taranis

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‘An interesting afternoon,’ said Procles as he closed the door behind him. Pamphilus nodded his agreement as he went straight to a couch and sank onto it with a groan. Dyrakhes and Clearchus had taken over at the tavern, and Agesander was prowling the forum, listening to gossip and keeping eyes open for anything potentially pertinent.

Fronto glanced at the others in the room and then back at the new arrival. ‘Well, go on, then?’

‘I found out who your extra prisoner is,’ the big Greek said and took a seat opposite Fronto. ‘His name is Arrius Ferreolus. He’s a city decurion from a place called Comum. I’d never heard of it, but there were a couple of nicely wine-stooped and talkative fellows came into the tavern and they were already chatting about it. Didn’t take much leverage to open them up. This Comum is one of Caesar’s pet towns up in the Alpes. It’s a Gaulish place that’s been right behind the proconsul from the start. Seems that last year he granted the whole of Comum citizenship.’

‘I remember that,’ Balbus rumbled. ‘Some big show of largesse. He had the swamp there drained and helped rebuild the place in Roman style. Half the streets are named after him now and there’s balding statues all over the place.’

‘Yes,’ muttered Procles, ‘well it’s not all come up sweet and flowery. Seems Caesar granted citizenship to Comum, then went through the formality of requesting it from the senate.’

‘Standard practice,’ replied Fronto. They all do that. No one checks with the senate first.’

‘Well it seems Marcellus has declared Caesar’s grant illegal. He claims the general is flaunting his powers and assuming more authority than he should, even over the senate. Sounds like he’s got half the senators riled up and ready to lynch the proconsul when he comes home.’

‘It’s a dubious claim,’ Balbus mused. ‘Laughable even, really. But there are plenty of senators with no love of Caesar, and Pompey’s camp is powerful. The proconsul’s reputation will take a serious knock from this. I wouldn’t be surprised if Caesar gets dragged through the courts for it.’

‘Impossible,’ snorted Fronto. ‘They can’t level their charges while he’s governing Gaul, and as soon as he gets back to Rome he’ll get his consulship and be immune from prosecution for the year. With the money he’s sent back with Brutus, he can buy most of Rome’s votes in that time.’

‘Don’t underestimate his enemies,’ Balbus warned. ‘Caesar may think he’s safe, but the cess-pool of Roman politics rarely delivers what you expect.’

Cavarinos frowned. ‘However did you manage to suppress my people when you cannot even govern a city without arguing among yourselves? You are more like the tribes than you’d like to think, you know?’ He rubbed his neck. ‘So what is to happen to this decurion from Comum?’

Procles shrugged. ‘That I couldn’t find out. Seems he had come to the city at the head of some sort of delegation, bringing the thanks of his town, but as soon as Marcellus heard about them, the decurion was grabbed and thrown in the carcer. His retinue and companions were ejected from the city unceremoniously.’

‘The courts will have to rule on the validity of Caesar’s grant before anything happens to the decurion,’ Balbus shrugged. ‘But it’s going to be high profile, this. And that means there’ll be a focus on the carcer by both officials and the public. That will be why Crispinus was so adamant he wanted a full complement, Fronto. Marcellus’ case against Caesar will ride partially on the man in that prison, so Crispinus will be very careful to be secure and legal and perfectly organised at all times.’

That presents us with both a positive and a negative,’ sighed Fronto. ‘The added political kerfuffle will mean potential opportunities for trouble, maybe even an in for the Sons of Taranis. Routine will go out of the window, and will only get worse if Caesar’s grant and the decurion are ruled against. That means we’ll need to step up the manpower near the carcer. Anything might happen now, so we need to keep plenty of hands to the reins. On the other hand, it also means that Crispinus and his men are going to be a lot more alert, which will make the Sons’ task more difficult.’

‘I wonder what happened to the missing guard, then,’ Cavarinos mused. ‘In the circumstances, it seems unlikely that any of those on duty will be putting themselves in danger or getting drunk in the slums.’

Fronto nodded. ‘We have to assume that somehow the Sons of Taranis got to this guard. And that means they probably know everything we do, and a lot more besides. I’d be tempted to send one of you to get drunk with another of the guards and ply him for information, but I don’t think they’ll be readily accessible now. Crispinus will have them all on their guard.’ He narrowed his eyes at the Arverni warrior. ‘You know these people and their type better than any of us, Cavarinos. The hour is coming when they’re going to have to make a move. If they want to get Vercingetorix back to Gaul before the campaigning season ends, they’re running out of time. Will they move at day or night, you think?’

Cavarinos gave a sour look and shrugged. ‘I am no more familiar with most of them than you are. But Molacos? He’s a fanatic. If he was given this task by his master Lucterius, he’ll do it or he’ll die trying, and you can put walls and barred gates and legions of men in the way, but you’ll have to put him down to stop him. That sort of man can be unpredictable. They do not conform to any kind of common sense. If it was me in charge of this – gods, but think about that: it almost could have been – then I would move at night, towards the last watch, when the guard shift are tired and at their lowest ebb. That would allow the Sons to move through the streets easier, especially with Molacos there. And, of course, if they succeed they will need to get the king out of the city before anyone even knows they’ve gone. Night-time is the clear and obvious option. Yet, given Molacos’ fanatic nature, the shortness of time and the brazen nature of the swathe they cut through your Roman installations in our lands, we simply cannot rule out a daytime assault.’

‘Very helpful,’ grunted Fronto.

‘They are just too much of an unknown quantity, Fronto. We will have to watch the place and be ready to move at all times. I would say their prime times to move are just before and just after a shift change and towards the end of the night. If we are all available at those times, and we send men back to sleep in shifts in between, that is the best we can do to be ready, I’d say.’

Aurelius cleared his throat. ‘If it’s any help, I’ve been chatting to one of the girls in the tavern and she’s got quite… friendly.’

‘I’m not sure how much help that can be,’ grinned Clearchus.

‘Not the girl. But she showed me around. There’s an outbuilding behind the tavern that isn’t used. They just store old rubbish in there, but it’s quickly accessible from the street as well as the tavern. We can store staffs and sticks and knives and anything we want in there for quick retrieval.’

‘Good man,’ smiled Fronto. ‘Get all the stuff we might need and move it there ready.’ He took a breath. ‘Alright, Cavarinos said it. All hands to the steering oars now. I want every pair of eyes in the vicinity of the carcer and on the alert. The moment one of their faces shows I want a boot on their neck and half a dozen of you holding him down.’

* * * * *

‘Heads up,’ hissed Aurelius, as he jogged into the tavern where, despite his original convictions to remain hidden, Fronto now sat with several of the others. At least he had kept himself in the shadowy interior rather than sitting at the open frontage, where Aurelius and Agesander watched the prison across the road.