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Authors: Robert Fabbri

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BOOK: The Dreams of Morpheus
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‘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.'

‘Even so, my friend, what would there be in it for me in having Cossus Cornelius Lentulus expose Brutus, other than earning Brutus' and his family's enmity?'

‘If every measure in Rome is checked and not just the Quirinal, then Brutus will have no cause to suspect that your recommendation was targeting him.'

‘But I'll have made myself conspicuous for no personal gain. They're a consular family, you know.'

‘If the Urban Prefect uncovers a scam that's been defrauding a section of the population from their rightful privilege, then the popularity he would gain could reflect well on the Emperor who had appointed him. I'm sure that Tiberius likes to have the people well looked after; and, since he now spends all his time on Capraea, he'll be very pleased with Lentulus for doing such a good job in his absence. That would ensure Lentulus a long tenure of his very lucrative position; he'd be in your debt. Now, I believe that Sabinus is one of the aediles elected for next year …' Magnus let his voice trail off.

Gaius licked his already moist lips as he made the connection. ‘Whose duties are allocated by the Urban Prefect. Lentulus would be particularly well disposed to my family if I had helped him to uncover such a wicked fraud on his beloved populace.'

Magnus nodded, his face composed into the most solemn and understanding of expressions. ‘Indeed, senator; the people whom he lives to serve deprived of the bread of life in such a callous manner, and thanks to your help he could right that wrong. He'll look at you with tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes.'

‘I'm sure in that condition he would be willing to grant me the smallest of requests and give Sabinus the most prestigious
of all the aedile posts; working with the prefect of the Grain Supply would really bring public attention to him and the whole family.'

‘I think it would be the least that Lentulus could do. I believe you would find your credit with him wouldn't be exhausted for some time and that would far outweigh any enmity from a humiliated aedile, even if he does come from a consular family.'

Gaius slipped a pudgy arm round Magnus' shoulders. ‘And I believe you may be right, my friend. But tell me, how will you make this issue a potential cause for unrest in order for Lentulus to take it seriously? Riots on the Quirinal might bring a heavyhanded response from the prefect and his Urban Cohorts.'

‘My thoughts entirely.'

‘So?'

‘Well, it's occurred to me that on the Ides of October, in two days' time, an official public brawl is scheduled. It would be a shame if everything started to get out of hand as the residents of the Suburra fight the residents of the Via Sacra for possession of the severed head of the October Horse.'

‘You asked to see me, Marcus Salvius Magnus.'

The soft voice just cut through the background chatter in the tavern; Magnus disengaged himself from the plump young whore sitting on his lap and looked up at his visitor and smiled. ‘Yes, Terentius.' He removed the whore's hand from under his tunic, adjusted his dress and sent her on her way with a satisfying slap on her buttocks before returning his attention to his visitor. ‘Sit down.'

As he sat, Terentius ran his hands down the back of his thighs to control his tunic which was unbelted, like a woman's. He crossed his legs with studied elegance and with a modest smile accepted the cup of wine that Magnus proffered. ‘Thank you, Magnus.'

‘You're looking good, Terentius.'

Terentius pulled back an errant lock of long, auburn hair, which had come loose from the ponytail into which it was tied, and secured it behind his ear. ‘Thank you, Magnus; I try my best.'

Magnus could see that he did. Although he was now in his forties, the whore-boy master certainly looked after his appearance: the pale skin over his high cheekbones remained smooth, his chin and neck were still taut, his lips full and subtly painted and his large eyes bright and interested, despite the life that he had led as first a whore and now a master.
Very nice
, was always Magnus' immediate thought; closely followed by:
if you like that sort of thing
.

Magnus leant across the table. ‘How's business?'

‘It's very good.' Terentius took a sip before adding, with a raised eyebrow, ‘But not good enough to justify an increase in what I pay to the Brotherhood.'

Magnus leant back, laughing, then reached across and laid a hand on Terentius' arm. ‘Very good, I take your meaning, old friend. In lieu of that rise I need a favour.'

‘Anything for you, Magnus.'

‘Yeah, I'm sure. Well, I need something kept safe and secret for a few days.'

With a slight incline of the head, Terentius acquiesced.

‘Servius has it out the back; go and find him and he'll have a couple of the lads escort you home.'

Terentius took another sip, placed his cup down and then stood. ‘I'll hear from you shortly then?'

‘You will.'

Terentius smiled as he turned to go.

Magnus held up a hand. ‘Oh, one thing. Have you or your boys been having any trouble with short measures on the grain dole recently?'

‘No, Magnus.'

‘Any trouble with our local aedile?'

Terentius pouted and shook his head. ‘No, Magnus. I make sure that he's very well disposed towards me; I give him free use of my establishment a couple of times a month.'

‘Do you now?'

‘Oh yes, it always pays to look after those who have power over you; you know that the offer's always open to you too.'

As Terentius walked away, Magnus' gaze lingered on him for just a moment too long for his own liking. He shook his head
then looked around for the whore, feeling an urgent need to take her upstairs to the small room that he called home.

Thin, pale fingers of dawn poked through the window shutters as the constant clamour from the street below impinged once more on Magnus' consciousness, hauling it from the realm of dreams.

He lay in the half-light, looking up at the roughly cut ceiling beams, listening to the whore's soft breaths and running through in his mind what he needed to achieve in the next two days; the list was not long but it was tricky.

Once satisfied, he turned his attention to the business of his patron, Senator Pollo, pleased that he had helped to boost his patron's standing with the most powerful woman in Rome, the Lady Antonia.

He was acquainted with Antonia, surprisingly given the vast social gulf between them, but unsurprisingly given her enjoyment for boxing and her penchant for a private round with the after-dinner-spectacle winner once her guests had departed. But that had been ten years or more ago when he had made his living that way after completing his time first in Rome's legions, and then getting a lucky transfer to the Urban Cohorts which meant he only had to serve sixteen years and not the full twenty-five. Once he had fought his way to the position of patronus of his Brotherhood, using the substantial prize money that he had earned in his two years of gruelling, iron-fisted bouts, he had left the profession and the lady behind. Until, that was, their paths had crossed again after his patron, Senator Pollo, and his nephews, Sabinus and Vespasian, had risen in her favour. Now she summoned him as the fancy took her and because of her status he would be a fool to refuse; he grimaced to himself at the thought of a new summons as she was not getting any younger. He wondered how and to whom she would sell the tablets, and when Senator Pollo would require him to pick them up from Terentius and … At the thought of Terentius he turned the whore over, putting him to the back of his mind.

BOOK: The Dreams of Morpheus
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