Muses of Roma (Codex Antonius Book 1) (25 page)

From his disguised taxi, Lepidus watched the woman and boy leave the Aeneas Cafe. They were both cloaked with their hoods up. The tracker Appius placed on the woman still functioned, but had had winked out for a moment and then came back. It concerned Lepidus, for he did not like surprises or events he could not explain. Everything had a reason. Even winks.

“I cannot believe Gaia Julius would help them,” Appius said from the seat next to Lepidus.

“You didn't believe Scaurus would help them either, yet here we are.”

“Scaurus was a washed up old man without friends,” Appius said. “Gaia Julius is one of the wealthiest patricians in the city. Her family’s only now gaining the respect it lost because of Octavian. Why would she throw it away?”

“Perhaps
because
it's taken her family a thousand years to regain that respect,” Lepidus said. “Never underestimate human pride.”

“Or perhaps the woman and boy simply wanted something to eat?”

“Dressed like they were? Doubtful. They’d attract too much attention among the bathed patrons. Ocella would find another Temple of Empanda first. No, Gaia Julius is a traitor. It feels right.” He looked at Appius. “I've succeeded more when I act on my feelings rather than facts. Trust that. It's the gods communicating with you.”

Appius frowned. “I thought the gods only talked to the Consul and the Collegia.”

“Talk, yes,” Lepidus said, “but there are more ways to communicate than words. Be mindful of the augurs around you, Appius. Be mindful of your feelings. Unlike the Consul and the Collegia, you and I are mortals. We cannot hear the gods directly. But they still show us the proper path if we see and listen.”

Appius nodded. Lepidus told the boy things he should have already known, if not through the Pantheon
flamens
then through his own intuition. Appius just began his training, though. In time his intuition would attune to the will of the gods. It took Lepidus many years to open his mind to the gods, to accept the order of things. He was bound by honor and faith to obey the Consul and the Collegia, for they were infallible. Once he truly accepted that, he found the gods favored him with clear signs to guide his path. He served the gods and their Voices faithfully since the day he was punished for the Battle of Caan. Since that day, the gods showed him mercy by giving his family prosperity and granting him talents to protect and expand the glory and light that was the Republic.

Yes, if Appius followed Lepidus's instructions, he would know that joy and prosperity as well.

“If you’re correct, sir,” Appius said, “then Gaia Julius is the high-level traitor we've sought. Should we not arrest Ocella and the boy now? Not to mention Gaia Julius?”

Lepidus considered the same idea ever since they tracked the woman to the Aeneas Cafe. The wealth of the Julii could get Ocella and boy off-world. And while it was possible there were higher placed traitors, Lepidus didn’t think he had time to root them all out before Ocella escaped. Besides, Gaia Julius’s interrogation would reveal any other traitors she knew or suspected. Not to mention interrogations of the woman and the boy.

“Very well,” Lepidus said. “Have the Praetorians secure the Aeneas Cafe and the house of Gaia Julius. If they find her there, they will keep her under guard until we arrive. You and I shall take the woman and boy.”

Appius nodded and then gave orders into his com. The Praetorian centurions on the other side acknowledged the orders. Lepidus started the taxi and merged into the street traffic.

According to the tracker, the woman headed east on the Via Rumina. Lepidus drove the taxi to a parking lot a block ahead of where Ocella fled. Lepidus told Appius the plan, and the young man nodded his understanding.

Appius stepped out of the taxi and stood next to the door of a small bookshop. He pretended to browse the books and scrolls displayed in the window, but his eyes searched the reflection to his right, watching for the cloaked woman and boy.

Lepidus walked several dozen paces up the sidewalk in the direction where Ocella would approach. When he saw their hooded heads bobbing toward him on the crowded street, he stopped before a butcher's shop and examined the live eels swimming in a cloudy glass tank. The female attendant asked if she could help him. Lepidus asked her about the freshness of the eels, where they were caught, and whether they were free of the diseases that plagued the farmed eels last year. As the attendant answered his questions, Lepidus watched the reflection in the fish tank of two hooded figures passing behind him and toward Appius. Lepidus thanked the attendant for her time and fell in behind his prey, maintaining a comfortable distance of ten paces.

Ahead of the two, Appius’s large frame turned away from the bookshop window and stood in the center of the tight alley. People flowed around him with annoyed glances, but he kept his eyes on the woman and boy approaching him.

When Ocella and the boy came within six paces of Appius, Lepidus called out, “Marcia Licinius Ocella.”

The woman and boy continued on as if they didn’t hear him. When Appius stood in front of them with a jolt gun in hand, they finally stopped. “Answer the man,” he growled.

Her head swiveled from Appius to the boy and then to the street around them. Lepidus chose this spot because of its close confines. They could not retreat, they could not go forward, and the alley walls kept them from going left or right. They were trapped.

“Marcia Licinius Ocella,” Lepidus said again, this time two paces from them. “We have questions for—”

The woman turned, lowered her hood, and said, “I'm sorry,
dominar
, are you talking to me?”

She was not Marcia Licinius. She was much older, her graying brown hair wrapped in a single braid. She was pale, with the complexion of a Norseman. The boy was probably her grandson. The same pale skin and light brown hair shown from beneath his hood.

“Who are you?” Lepidus asked, regaining his voice.

“I am Hestia Gruen and this is my grandson, Kel,” the woman said, her eyes lowered but fearful. “We are slaves of Gaia Julius. We're delivering her post.”

“Give it to me,” Lepidus said.

The woman handed Lepidus a wrapped package, and Lepidus grabbed it. He waved his hand-held tracker over it, but the package was clean. He ran the tracker over Hestia Gruen's cloak as the woman tried to shrink away. Appius growled, “Don't move.”

Lepidus found the tracking strip near the cloak’s left sleeve. “Give me the cloak.”

“
Dominar
, it's cold.”

“Now, slave!”

The woman took off the cloak and handed it to Lepidus. He reached into the sleeve and found the sticky tracking strip. He held it up to his tracker, and the device gave off the telltale blips. He clenched his teeth and then tossed the cloak at the woman, which she quickly put back on. He studied the slaves. The woman kept her eyes lowered, while the boy alternated his wide gaze between the woman and his feet.

“Did you see a woman with short brown hair and a twelve-year-old boy with the same colored hair in your
domina's
cafe? She would be of Indian descent.”

The woman nodded. “Yes, they gave us these cloaks. They were much nicer than the old cloaks we had. Not that the
domina
isn't generous to us. Gods be praised, she treats my family better than my old master, but sometimes she overlooks simple things, like cloaks that are fraying at the edges—”

“The woman and the boy,” Lepidus interrupted, fighting the urge to shoot the slave. “Do you know where they went?”

The woman cast her gaze to the ground again. “I'm sorry,
dominar
, I did not see where they went after they gave us the cloaks. They were still drinking tea when the
domina
gave me the post and told me to deliver it.”

“Did they talk with your
domina
?”

The woman shrugged slightly. “I didn't see them speak to each other, but I wasn’t in the cafe the whole time.” She gave Lepidus a furtive glance. “Can me and my grandson go now?”

Lepidus waved his hand absently, and the two Norse slaves hurried down the alley and around the corner. Lepidus stared at the tracking strip on his finger.

“So maybe it was a coincidence,” Appius said. “Perhaps Marcia Licinius found the tracker, went into the cafe, and gave the slaves her cloak.”

Lepidus shook his head. “It is not a coincidence. Any cafe on Via Rumina would’ve thrown them out looking and smelling the way they did. And it’s unlikely that slaves of Gaia Julius would accept dirty cloaks from street beggars. The slave lied.”

“How could you tell?”

Lepidus looked at Appius. “Feelings. Now that we've shown ourselves, we'd better question the Julii before they have time to coordinate a story.”

Hestia Gruen pulled out her com pad and called Gaia Julius. When the
domina
answered, Hestia said, “They stopped us,
domina
.”

“What did you tell them?”

“What you told me to tell them.”

“Did they believe it?”

“I don’t think so,” Hestia said. “They’ll come for you soon, if they haven't already.”

“I know. Thank you, Hestia.”

“Yes,
domina
.” Hestia put the com pad in her cloak pocket, then smiled down at her grandson. The boy stared at her expectantly.

“Fine,” she said, “we'll go to the bakery. You earned it.”

Kel smiled. “Can I have
two
cinnamon rolls?”

“The deal was
one
roll,” she said. “And let’s take off these rags.”

She bunched the cloaks into a ball, including the com pad, and tossed them into the lap of a sleeping beggar.

Roma.

Kaeso watched the city grow larger through the window of the commercial dropship he and Nestor rode. It was almost ten years since Kaeso last saw the Eternal City. No building could exceed the height of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline, so instead of building up, Roma built out. Its sprawling
suburbas
covered most of central Italia, making the peninsula's center one large city when viewed from the dropship. Gleaming white temples dotted the entire city and the
suburbas
. The familiar ovals of coliseums almost matched the quantity of temples. Cars zipped along roadways streaming into and out of the city. While the roads outside the city lay in straight lines, the roads in Roma itself twisted and curved to follow the ancient streets and alleys that grew up before Roma dominated the world.

Despite fighting the Republic during his days in Umbra, Kaeso had always loved the city. How could any human not feel some grudging nostalgia for Roma? For good or bad, it was the center of human culture, the cradle of modern civilization. Roma had created a worldwide commercial commonwealth before way line travel gave humanity the stars. Though never conquered outright, even the Zhonguo of eastern Asia took on aspects of Roman culture. Today humanity was fractured into dozens of nations and independent worlds, but human culture still rotated around Roma like stars around the black hole of a galactic core.

Nestor leaned near Kaeso and looked out the window. “I've never been to Roma,” Nestor said.

“I thought a man with your interests would’ve visited by now.”

“Things got in the way.”

When he didn't say more, Kaeso said, “There's no other city like it in the universe. You're going to enjoy it.”

Nestor gave him a wry smile. “After our recent travels, I’d enjoy any planet with a breathable atmosphere.”

Caduceus
had left the Jupiter system after Galeo’s death and arrived at the Terra way station two days later. When the way station authorities challenged them, Kaeso used the credentials Umbra prepared for them: cargo hauler from the Lost World of Llahsa running the Terra-Jupiter trade routes. After several tense minutes, the Romans allowed
Caduceus
to dock at the massive Terra way station.

During the two-day journey from Jupiter to Terra, Kaeso and his crew hid the bodies of Flamma and Galeo refrigeration crates they used for transporting produce, and then hid them in the ship's smuggling holes. It was an awfully big risk keeping them. If Roman agents boarded and inspected
Caduceus
, Kaeso could say Dariya was a patrician using the sleeper crib to slow her aging (a common practice among the wealthy). Finding two dead bodies, however, would be trouble.

But Kaeso couldn’t stomach jettisoning old friends as if they were trash. If they succeeded in this mission, he would return Galeo’s body to Libertus, and Flamma’s to his father in Egypt. If they didn't succeed, it wouldn't matter what happened to the bodies.

Kaeso ordered Blaesus, Lucia, and Daryush to stay on board
Caduceus
. It was an order he probably didn’t need to give: Blaesus was an exile, Lucia a known deserter, and Daryush an escaped slave. Though Umbra gave them fake credentials and gene coatings, the off chance that someone would recognize them was too great a risk. As long as they did not leave the docked ship, they would not encounter Roman authorities.

Unless, of course, the Romans decided on an abrupt ship inspection. Umbra was very thorough, so Kaeso had faith that
Caduceus's
credentials were in order. An inspection was unlikely. He relied on the fact that Roman bureaucracies were like every other throughout human history: They did not take on more work than they had to.

The winged dropship glided onto the airport's runway and then rolled to the orbital terminal where the other dropships docked. Along the way, they passed terminals designated for planetary air traffic. Dozens of airplanes sat on the runways or waited in line at the terminals to dock. Kaeso reminded himself that while this airport was incredibly large and busy, it was only one of eight in central Italia. The crush of 120 million people in the greater Roma region still amazed Kaeso, himself a native of Avita, the largest city on Libertus with three million residents.

Once the dropship finished docking, Nestor and Kaeso made their way through the crowded cabin toward the exit. Inside the terminal, the crowds were just as thick as Kaeso remembered. Romans in business attire mixed with people of all ethnicities and colorful clothing: Africans with light flowing robes; Indian women with the red
bindi
on their foreheads; Gallic men with their traditional long hair and beards; and bronze-skinned men from the Atlantium continent with rings in their ears and noses, yet dressed in the business togas favored by Roman merchants. There weren’t many places in the world, much less human space, with such a diversity of people crowded into one place. Roma was the center of human civilization, and five minutes in the interplanetary terminal proved it.

Kaeso and Nestor carried their small shoulder bags through the teeming crowds. Kaeso noticed a large visum wall with a male newscrier in front of a picture of Libertus from space. Kaeso made out the planet’s familiar brown and green continents floating on blue oceans beneath a sprinkling of clouds. He stopped among a crowd of people watching the visum wall.

“...the duplicitous Liberti have once again reiterated their claim that they did not kidnap the Consular Heir, or know his whereabouts, despite the proof the Consul and the Collegia Pontificis recently presented. Their denials have forced Lord Admiral Gneaus Cocceius Nerva to destroy another Liberti city.”

Sickness rose in Kaeso’s stomach when the image zoomed to Taura, a continent in the southern hemisphere of Libertus. Taura looked like a sideways horseshoe. Clouds floated above the green and brown continent, the sun glistening off the blue waters of the Mare Pavo within the horseshoe’s curve.

A white light erupted from the horseshoe’s southern tip. Clouds expanded away from the explosion like ripples in a pond. When the light dissipated, a dark smudge glowed with orange fires where the Liberti city of Dives once sat.

The crowd surrounding the visum wall cheered.

“As you can see,” the crier said, “the Liberti city of Dives is no more. Maybe now the Liberti will give the Roman people back their Consular Heir. But that is doubtful judging by the Liberti government’s stubbornness so far. They've already let two cities die, Agricola and now Dives.”

Not Avita
, Kaeso thought.
Thank the gods, Claudia is still safe. For now.

“If the Liberti government has such a low regard for its own people,” the crier continued, “the Roman Republic urges the Liberti people to rise up and overthrow their government and install one that is more reasonable. One that does
not
kidnap children, or let its citizens perish in fire.”

The crowd cheered again.

“Serves the bastards right for kidnapping Cordus,” said a young Roman man in a white toga in front of Kaeso. “I say slag the whole planet.”

“Cocceius Nerva won't do it,” said another young man with a half-beard. “He's too soft. Besides, what if Cordus is on the planet?”

“True. Even if we don't get Cordus back, though, at least the Liberti are getting what’s coming to them. They've been acting like a power for a hundred years. Time we showed them what a true power is.”

Kaeso tightened his grip on his shoulder bag to keep from breaking their necks.

The man with the half-beard frowned, then said in a low voice, “You shouldn't say such things. The
numina
...”

The man in the toga laughed. “You're such an old woman. The Liberti
numina
are fairy tales. The Liberti are no more protected by
numina
than the Kaldethians. Look what happened to them.”

Half-Beard still seemed uncomfortable and didn't say anything.

Nestor put a hand on Kaeso's shoulder, guided him away from the crowd and the visum wall. He must have sensed Kaeso’s anger, for he gave Kaeso a meaningful look once they'd walked several paces from the wall.

“Are you all right?” Nestor asked.

“Fine. Let’s leave before I strangle someone.”

Two armed lictors with pulse rifles stood at the terminal exit. They only eyed the crowds and did not check credentials. Nestor and Kaeso walked past the lictors and through the terminal exit archway without sparing them a glance.

Kaeso and Nestor stepped outside into a chilly gray dawn and made their way, with hundreds of other people, to the central Roma train. They found two seats next to each other in the last car and sat down amid the cacophony of different languages and crying children.

As the train glided out of the station, Nestor watched the Roman metropolis speed by. The train ran along side the ancient Appian Aqueduct, its stone arches and brightly painted frescoes still sharp after twelve hundred years.

“Do they still use that?” Nestor asked, marveling at the ancient structure.

“No,” Kaeso said absently. “Their water comes from underground pipes, just like any other city. They keep the Aqueduct for historical and religious purposes now. It still empties into a fountain in the old Forum Boarium.”

Nestor nodded, his eyes taking in the sights. Kaeso smiled to himself, remembering the first time he came to Roma. He had wanted to see everything. The city was so vast and historic, vibrant and seemingly eternal. But Kaeso arrived that first time as a spy for Umbra. His cover was a local Roman merchant, so he had to contain his overwhelming desire to gawk at everything.

Now that he thought about it, Kaeso realized he'd
never
toured Roma’s more famous sights, even though he lived in the city for five years. Ancilia always worked, always noted subtle hints of surveillance, and always sought out Romans willing to help Umbra. It never left time to see the places that gave birth to humanity's ascension to the stars. He remembered how Petra had wanted to bring Claudia to Roma to see the museums, plays, horse races—

Kaeso blinked away the tears clouding his vision. It was easy to think of his family now, after all those years of forced and intentional forgetfulness. It was also painful, and would be the rest of his life. He missed the mundane things most: eating dinner with them, watching a holo together, going to the market, the hugs and kisses when he went to work.

Petra was long dead and he might as well be to Claudia, but at least he could ensure she lived. His daughter would
not
become a Roman slave or turn to ash under Roman guns. He vowed to fix this. He vowed to find Cordus and give the Roman Muses something to fear.

The train arrived at the Forum Boarium station. Colorful frescoes covered the station’s cavernous ceiling. Stained glass windows twenty feet tall lined the walls, casting rainbow hues down on the teeming crowds. Nestor’s wide eyes echoed Kaeso's thoughts. From temples to coliseums to train stations, it seemed the Romans didn’t know how to build things small.

They left the station and walked west along the Via Nova. They were in the heart of the Roman commercial district, and the three-story visum walls flashing images and blaring music from every large building confirmed it. Kaeso focused on the mission, but Nestor had a hard time. He stared open-mouthed at the visums, the gleaming white columns of courts and temples, and the statue-adorned arenas.

“You'd think you'd never seen a city before,” Kaeso said.

“I've seen many cities,” Nestor said, “but there is only one Roma, as they say.”

“Well try not to trip over your feet,” Kaeso said, just as Nestor bumped into a toga-clad older man talking on his com pad. The man glared at Nestor, but Nestor ignored him, continuing to take in Roma.

They walked another three blocks before turning onto the Via Ludus, which was far less noisy and loaded with visum walls. The crowds still existed, but the buildings and business were smaller and more ubiquitous. Niche clothing shops sat next to gourmet food stores, which sat next to jewelry stores neighbored by cafes and taverns. Kaeso found the Scipio Tavern next to a shop selling tobacco from Atlantium. Kaeso opened one of the old-style wooden doors for Nestor.

The tavern’s interior was dark, smoky, and smelled of decades of wine. Music from forty years ago drifted from the speakers, while a golem gladiator match played on the visum wall in the tavern’s rear. Three older men threw dice on a concave table in the near corner, giving occasional half-hearted cheers. To Kaeso's right, four white haired men concentrated on their
latrunculi
boards as they sucked on pipes filled with tobacco.

“So this is where the old men of Roma come to die,” Nestor whispered to Kaeso.

“Old men of all nations come to places like this to die.”

He motioned Nestor toward the barkeep in the center. He was a large, middle-aged man with a pregnant stomach and a shaved head. He eyed Kaeso and Nestor when they approached the counter.

“What's your drink, my lords?”

Kaeso put both hands on the counter. “I heard this place brews an amazing
posca
. I could go for a pint.”

The barkeep frowned. “Sorry, we haven't had
posca
in months. Got too expensive with the pepper shortage last year. Maybe in another few months when the prices come down a bit.”

“
Posca
isn’t hard to make,” Kaeso said. “Only takes sour wine, some water, and a few herbs.”

“Ah, but the secret to a good
posca
is the herbal mixture. Pepper is a key ingredient. Won’t sell sub-standard
posca
at my tavern. Would ruin my reputation.”

Kaeso nodded. “Can't fault you there, friend, but I'm sorry to hear that. Business has kept me off-world for months. Know where I can find the second-best
posca
in the city these days?”

The barkeep grinned. “Well you can find the
second best posca
at The Triclinium, west end of the Mars Trading Fields. Not as fancy as it sounds, but it'll satisfy your cravings until I can get it back on the board.”