Gracus reached for the boy, but for some reason Rufus found he could not let him go. He raised himself to his feet and pushed past the handler towards the exit. He was almost at the stairs when he remembered.
'Make sure you give Africanus something special for his meal tonight. He earned it.' He shook his head slowly, amazed at his own stupidity. How could he have failed to recognize the animal he had trained from a cub?
As he made his way towards the upper level, the euphoria drained from him and suddenly he felt very tired. He staggered as he reached the light and only retained his footing when a hand caught his shoulder.
'How is he? Is he..?' Callistus's voice quivered with emotion.
'He hit his head, but he is a strong boy. I think he will be all right, but you should take him to a physician right away.'
The imperial secretary's eyes filled with tears as he lifted his son gently from Rufus's arms. 'I owe you a life,' he said, in a low voice, so none of the watching slaves could hear. 'Visit me in my quarters tonight and perhaps I can go part way to repaying it.'
He walked away with his head bowed protectively over his son's, leaving Rufus as mystified as he was dazed.
XXXIX
Information was power, Narcissus had taught him that. But now he possessed this information what was he to do with it?
In the right hands it could unquestionably destroy his enemy. Yet the right hands belonged to a man who was a greater enemy still. Then there was the question of survival. If the information came from a source close to the heart of power, it would be endowed with the power of that source and its effect would be multiplied. But coming from a slave would it not raise doubts? Yes. First doubts, then suspicions. Rufus shuddered as he considered the consequences of arousing the suspicions of the man with whom he was considering sharing the secret. No. Not that route then.
Time was on his side. He could hold it until he needed a bargaining chip. Then again there was the danger that its power might be devalued, or his need so dire he would be forced to sell it for less than it was worth.
Narcissus, or his master, would pay well for it — he had no doubts on that score. It would give the Greek power over his greatest rival. Who knows, it might even open the door to an Empire, but what kind of Empire? He had witnessed Narcissus at work, seen the cold calculation in the Greek's eyes. Would he trust Narcissus with the gift he had just received? Again, the answer was no.
In truth, there had always been only one choice. But the thing he had in his possession was of such momentous significance it was imperative to consider every option.
'It is very pretty, but why should I want it?' Cupido studied the object in his hand. It was a small, intricately worked metal box of the sort ladies of consequence kept their most valued rings in. The box itself was crafted of silver, but the lid had been worked with gold wire inset in the shape of a dragon being attacked by a leopard. It was very beautiful, and obviously very valuable. 'Did you steal it?' he demanded suspiciously.
'It is a poor creature who has so little faith in his friends,' Rufus commented.
Cupido raised one eyebrow. 'I remember a tale of a boy who was told he could pat a rhinoceros as if it was a dog. This' — he held the box between two fingers — 'looks suspiciously like a rhinoceros.'
'Then your eyesight is patently not what it was. I have been close enough to a rhinoceros to know what one looks like. But, please, let me tell you a story. It begins, as most stories do, quite a long time ago. Almost thirty years, in fact.'
'Then you had better get on with it, because I have important duties, even if you do not.'
'Of course.' Rufus picked up the box with a flourish. 'The tale concerns a certain Germanicus.'
Cupido's head came up sharply as he recognized the name of Caligula's father, and Rufus knew he had his friend's full attention now.
'This Germanicus was generally considered to possess the highest qualities to be desired in a man. Handsome, brave, clever. Orator and warrior. Friend to many and inspiration to all. When the German legions would have disowned Tiberius, he held them to their oaths. When they stared defeat in the face, he turned it into victory by the strength of his own character. Surely, you may ask, such a man would be loved by all?
'But when lesser men look to the heavens and see a star so much brighter than their own, or men less well favoured look into a mirror and see a face less handsome, their minds become twisted. Thus it was with those who regarded Germanicus as a rival.
'It was not enough that he restored order to the Orient, that he vanquished the king of Armenia, and bestowed upon Cappadocia the honour of a province of Rome. No, he must no longer be allowed to cast a greater shadow than his Emperor, or hold greater power than his Emperor's closest adviser.
'So a soldier was dispatched to Antioch, where his deeds and his honours ensured him a welcome and a place in his general's counsel. It was unfortunate that, soon after, Germanicus, who had stood so tall and was so loved, was brought low by a most loathsome disease. His golden skin withered and became covered in dark pustules. The mouth from which so many honeyed words had poured instead spewed froth. And he died, mourned by all, but none more than his Emperor, his Emperor's closest adviser, Gnaius Piso, and the good soldier who had come so untimely to his service.'
'Who told you this?' Cupido demanded.
'But there is more. Do you not want to hear it? Does it not enthral you?'
Cupido's nostrils flared, so that he reminded Rufus of the lion he had confronted. He wondered if he had gone too far, but the gladiator nodded for him to continue.
'Such illnesses are not uncommon in the Orient, or so I am told. Those who grieved for their general would have been content to believe his death was mere fate — but for two things. When his body was reduced to ashes in the fierce heat of the funeral fire, his heart was found entire among his bones, which, as your witch of a sister will no doubt have told you, is a certain sign of poison. And among his effects was found something which was pretty,' he raised the little box so it glinted in the lamplight, 'but seemed an unlikely trinket for a commander who lived a simple life.'
He handed the box to Cupido and the young German stared at it, as if he was trying to unlock its secrets by sheer force of will.
'One among the general's staff was not content. He took the pretty trinket to a certain medical man with knowledge of things he did not care to advertise among his friends. This medical man carried out tests, I know not how, which proved that the contents of the little box you hold had included some distillation of the red-spot mushroom. Even the slightest dose would have proved fatal to anyone who consumed it.'
'Narcissus!' Cupido exclaimed. 'It was Narcissus who revealed all this to you. Only he with his contacts in the east could have unearthed such a detailed report. You did this for me? You placed yourself even deeper in his debt for a friend?'
Rufus smiled modestly and recalled Callistus's final words when they had parted the previous evening. 'Let him believe anything, as long as it is not the truth.'
'And who was this simple soldier,' Cupido asked, though he knew the answer already, 'who was so trusted by his general, but whose appearance proved a harbinger of such tragedy?'
Rufus smiled coldly. 'Why, our good friend Cassius Chaerea.'
They spent the rest of the night discussing the best use of what Rufus had discovered. From time to time Rufus noticed Cupido giving him a strange look, as if he could not quite believe him capable of providing this deadly combination of intelligence and evidence.
'You are certain of its provenance?' he demanded at one point. 'You trust the source of this information with your life?'