method elude him. Nothing has happened to dent that belief.’
The sun had been behind Brennos as he had uttered his parting words, framing his red-gold hair like a halo. Even in shadow his bright blue eyes had blazed with anger while his parting words, which had sounded so much like a prophecy, were seared into the young chieftain’s brain.
‘Go, make your peace, Masugori, but beforeeither you or I are dust, every man who accepts Rome’s word will end as bones on a bloody battlefield, heaped high to bring glory to a Roman general.’
Those were the very last words Brennos had uttered, as he lifted the golden eagle and put it to his lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Falerii house was empty now, the guests gone, leaving Lucius alone. Outside the atrium was cold from the air of late winter. It was rare for a man of his eminence to be afforded such solitude, but the death in childbirth of his wife had forced even the most ardent supplicant away from his door. He stared at the papers before him, untouched on his desk, and allowed himself a quiet smile. The last to depart had been his closest political allies, all famous men, all noble and some of the best brains in the Senate, yet not even they guessed what was about to happen. With exquisite timing his band of hired thugs, wrapped in heavy, hooded cloaks, had been led in via the servants’ quarters by his Dacian body slave, just as the last senator had exited through the front gate. Their leader, Gafon, manager of a gladiator school who had lost everything gambling, saluted Lucius Falerius with his sword as he emerged from his private study.
‘Leave your men here,’ said Lucius sharply, indicating to Ragas that he should watch them lest they be tempted to pilfer something.
‘As you command, Lu…’
Gafon was not allowed to finish as the senator cut across him. ‘I shall not use your name, be so good as to avoid using mine.’
His eyes flicked past the object of this rebuke to the shadowy group of men. Their leader bowed, sword still held in salute, but he was looking obsequiously at Lucius’s back. The older man had already spun on his heel to re-enter his study. Gafon turned to his men and with a shrug sought to play down the insult, seeking to convey that for what they were earning tonight, the purple-striped bastard could be as snooty as he liked.
‘Would that you had come alone,’ Lucius said, warming his hands at the brazier before finally raising his deep brown eyes to engage those of his visitor.
‘I didn’t see the need, your honour.’
The eyes closed and the body tensed as Lucius tried to control his anger, the effort making his slender frame shake slightly. Normally the most controlled of men he was surprised at this reaction, even more alarmed at the thought that he was actually nervous.
‘It is not for you to see anything!’
‘If we do right tonight no one is going to have toomuch doubt who’s behind it. No band of drunken youngsters is going to kill a man like…’ Gafon hesitated, not wishing to use the name. ‘Regardless of how far gone they are.’
‘There is a difference between cackling rumour in the market-place and evidence sufficient to lay before a praetor.’
That last word made Gafon swallow hard; the mere mention of a magistrate was enough to remind him of how close he stood to being sold into debt bondage. Winter was no time for games and gladiator fights. If he did not come up with some money soon his creditors would take over his property and sell him off as a farm labourer to some distant rancher.
‘What is important is that the deed is undertaken unseen. If you are observed, and you are connected to me, I will pay the penalty for your misjudgement.’
The debt-ridden manager had a sudden fear that the commission was going to be withdrawn, which was not something that would go down well with the party of cut-throats he had gathered. If they found out that they had emerged from their slums for no reward they might just
The sun had been behind Brennos as he had uttered his parting words, framing his red-gold hair like a halo. Even in shadow his bright blue eyes had blazed with anger while his parting words, which had sounded so much like a prophecy, were seared into the young chieftain’s brain.
‘Go, make your peace, Masugori, but beforeeither you or I are dust, every man who accepts Rome’s word will end as bones on a bloody battlefield, heaped high to bring glory to a Roman general.’
Those were the very last words Brennos had uttered, as he lifted the golden eagle and put it to his lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Falerii house was empty now, the guests gone, leaving Lucius alone. Outside the atrium was cold from the air of late winter. It was rare for a man of his eminence to be afforded such solitude, but the death in childbirth of his wife had forced even the most ardent supplicant away from his door. He stared at the papers before him, untouched on his desk, and allowed himself a quiet smile. The last to depart had been his closest political allies, all famous men, all noble and some of the best brains in the Senate, yet not even they guessed what was about to happen. With exquisite timing his band of hired thugs, wrapped in heavy, hooded cloaks, had been led in via the servants’ quarters by his Dacian body slave, just as the last senator had exited through the front gate. Their leader, Gafon, manager of a gladiator school who had lost everything gambling, saluted Lucius Falerius with his sword as he emerged from his private study.
‘Leave your men here,’ said Lucius sharply, indicating to Ragas that he should watch them lest they be tempted to pilfer something.
‘As you command, Lu…’
Gafon was not allowed to finish as the senator cut across him. ‘I shall not use your name, be so good as to avoid using mine.’
His eyes flicked past the object of this rebuke to the shadowy group of men. Their leader bowed, sword still held in salute, but he was looking obsequiously at Lucius’s back. The older man had already spun on his heel to re-enter his study. Gafon turned to his men and with a shrug sought to play down the insult, seeking to convey that for what they were earning tonight, the purple-striped bastard could be as snooty as he liked.
‘Would that you had come alone,’ Lucius said, warming his hands at the brazier before finally raising his deep brown eyes to engage those of his visitor.
‘I didn’t see the need, your honour.’
The eyes closed and the body tensed as Lucius tried to control his anger, the effort making his slender frame shake slightly. Normally the most controlled of men he was surprised at this reaction, even more alarmed at the thought that he was actually nervous.
‘It is not for you to see anything!’
‘If we do right tonight no one is going to have toomuch doubt who’s behind it. No band of drunken youngsters is going to kill a man like…’ Gafon hesitated, not wishing to use the name. ‘Regardless of how far gone they are.’
‘There is a difference between cackling rumour in the market-place and evidence sufficient to lay before a praetor.’
That last word made Gafon swallow hard; the mere mention of a magistrate was enough to remind him of how close he stood to being sold into debt bondage. Winter was no time for games and gladiator fights. If he did not come up with some money soon his creditors would take over his property and sell him off as a farm labourer to some distant rancher.
‘What is important is that the deed is undertaken unseen. If you are observed, and you are connected to me, I will pay the penalty for your misjudgement.’
The debt-ridden manager had a sudden fear that the commission was going to be withdrawn, which was not something that would go down well with the party of cut-throats he had gathered. If they found out that they had emerged from their slums for no reward they might just
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