Doctor Who_ Byzantium! - Keith Topping [99]
‘ Salve,’ he noted, but paused when he saw the grave look on the general’s face.
‘I bring tidings of great sorrow,’ said Calaphilus. ‘An attempt has been made within the Vil a Praefectus upon the life of Ian Chesterton.’ He stopped and grabbed the hair of Edius Flavia, pulling him away from the torture stake and making him scream yet again. ‘As well you know, you piece of excrement.’ He flung the former tribune back against the bare wood and ordered the sergeant to, ‘Flay without mercy this despicable excuse for a Roman.’
The sergeant cast a nervous glance at the praefectus.
After a moment of consideration, Thalius nodded.
‘Our young friend is dead?’ he asked, sadly.
‘Remarkably not,’ the general replied. ‘But only due to the intervention of Erastus.’ The praefectus looked relieved.
‘Regretfully, however,’ continued Gaius, ‘I must inform you that the blow intended for Ian took instead the life of Fabulous.’
Thalius broke down and wept, something that just a few days earlier, Calaphilus would have considered an open sign of weakness. Now, he felt like joining in.
‘Your plot has failed, wretch,’ the general told Flavia as yet another blow landed on his back. ‘It has only succeeded in taking the life of an old man who committed you and your worthless allies no trespass. Non ego tuam empsim vitam vitiosa n uce. Your life is now forfeit and you shall be scourged unto death with great pleasure.’
For the first time, there was fear as well as determination in Flavia’s voice. ‘No, mercy,’ he cried.
‘No mercy indeed,’ said Thalius Maximus. ‘Tell us the names of your fellow proditores or your life shall end this day in c ruciamentum.’
A final blow seemed to knock all of the stuffing from Edius Flavia. Crushed and broken, he hung limply from the stauros by his fingertips.
‘Tribune Marcus Lanilla,’ he said in an agonised gasp.
‘Tribune Fabius Actium. Tribune Honorius Annora. Centurion Didlus Domius. Centurion Agressus Comtilius. Suffecti consul Marcelinus Gomaus. Praetor Gaius Octavian. Quaestor Claudius Minimus. Aediles Mobius Hartenius. Senator’s wife Antonia Vinicius. Tribune’s wife Agrinella Lanilla’
And so it went on, in bursts of agonised confession.
Finally, almost on the point of collapse, Flavia finished the list of the names of his co-conspirators.
‘Is that all?’ asked the general.
There was no reply. The praefectus knelt beside the tortured man and then stood up shaking his head. He has expired, the unworthy wretch.’
We have the names,’ Calaphilus noted. ‘And we know how high the conspiracy goes. Three of the surviving five tribunes.
Judges. Supplementary consuls, the city treasurer.... The list is phenomenal.’
‘It could have been much worse,’ noted the praefectus.
‘Either your name or mine could have been spoken here.’
‘I shall enjoy, greatly, arresting Marcus Lanilla,’ noted the general with a triumphant smile on his face. ‘I suspect you would wish that your former wife be left unto you?’
Thalius bit his lip. ‘I should wish that it had not been mentioned at all,’ he said. ‘And I should appreciate it if it were to remain that way. I shall deal with Antonia in my own way.’
Two horses trotted with no obvious haste through the barrack gates, and salutes were given and received.
‘Stand easy, legionnaire,’ said tribune Fabius Actium as the forged iron gates closed behind him and Marcus Lanilla.
When they were clear of the barracks approach, the two men spurred their horses to break into a gallop.
‘The situation is rapidly deteriorating,’ noted Marcus as he reined in his charging stallion at the entrance to the Jewish quarter. ‘The time has clearly come for action.’
‘What have you heard?’ Fabius asked, nervously.
‘Nothing but rumours. Yet.’
‘Edius would not betray us, even unto death,’ said Fabius confidently.
Marcus gave him a quizzical glance which asked, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Perhaps,’ was the limit of his own assurances.
‘Nevertheless, we should be more secure in my