His eyes burning, he was suddenly striding with furious gait towards the command tent, damaged parchment hanging from his hand.
To Marcus Falerius Fronto
I hope this finds you in good health and in a position to hand your command to another and return to us with all possible speed. I shall not waste words with too much periphery.
The villain Clodius has had the audacity to abduct both your sister and my daughter from the streets of Rome in broad daylight. Through the unbelievable bravery and resourcefulness of Faleria, Lucilia managed to escape her imprisonment and has returned to me to deliver the news. I have to admit to having almost broken at the disappearance of my daughter, though my joy at her return was soured by the knowledge that your sister bought Faleria’s freedom with her own return to captivity.
From her description, it appears that Clodius’ actions were entirely his own. Whether or not he has spoken to Caesar about the matter I cannot confirm, though I doubt it. Despite my opinion of the general’s motives, I do not believe he would order harm to our womenfolk. I have attempted to speak to Clodius, but he is no longer at the house of the Julii woman. I believe him to be secure and walled up inside his veritable fortress of a house with a small army. I too have arranged a private force and would like nothing more than to reduce his residence to rubble and pick over the corpses, but I fear for the safety of Faleria if I try and so I bide my time, fretting about her safety.
I know that your first thought will be to come to Rome and help, and I pray that you do, but I also urge you to visit Caesar first and secure his aid in bringing the beast Clodius to heel. Only his master’s command will likely speed our cause.
Know that I continue to watch the house and as soon as anything happens I and my men will be on the bastard’s back.
Hurry home and do not tarry.
Good travels.
Quintus Lucilius Balbus.
Fronto burst into the headquarters building, the door slamming against the wall and shaking dust from the rafters, two of the cavalry guard of Aulus Ingenuus trying to restrain him.
“Caesar!”
Rounding the corner to the main room of the headquarters, the chapel next door glinting with the eagles, flags and standards of eight legions, Fronto came to a halt, the two cavalrymen still grasping his arms.
“Caesar, call these pricks off!”
The general, his eyebrow raised in surprise, waved the two guards away nonchalantly. He had removed his cloak, cuirass, helmet and sword, and slouched back gratefully in his chair wearing only his tunic and breeches, a slave unfastening his boots. Brutus and Rufus stood to one side, Cotta and Varus the other, the latter leaning against the wall and rubbing his splinted arm.
“You seem fraught, Marcus. I realise you’ve had a bad…”
“What have you got your weasel Clodius doing?” Fronto demanded.
“I’m sorry?” replied the general, a dangerous edge entering his voice.
“Clodius. You’ll no doubt be interested to hear that Lucilia Balba escaped and told her father all about it. But not so my sister. Oh, no. Faleria’s still missing. But then you know that, don’t you?”
“Marcus, calm yourself and breathe. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do” snarled Fronto, storming across the room and slamming a blood-stained fist on the table, letting the parchment skitter across the surface to the general, who picked it up with a frown. “I knew when I was talking to you in Britannia that you were holding something back from me; something you knew I wouldn’t like. Were you ever planning to release her? I mean, surely it would have been better to just cut her throat and bury her, so that I never found out about it?”
“Fronto…”
“No, no, no, no, no. You delayed didn’t you. Because you hate to waste a commodity that might be of use later. And you waited too long, because Lucilia escaped and now she’s a liability rather than a prize. You cocked up, Caesar, and I heard about it. I found out!”
Caesar stood slowly and slid the parchment across to him.
“I will state again, Marcus, and swear to Venus Genetrix herself that I was not aware of her captivity, as your friend seems to suggest in his letter. I hold both your sister and the family of Quintus Balbus in very high esteem. Had I been aware of their abduction, I would have released them and been the one to break the news to you myself.”
Fronto was shaking his head. “You can’t hide your secrets from me. I knew you were up to something. I can read your expressions, Caesar; I’ve known you a long time.”
The general gestured to the others to leave, and Varus, Rufus and Brutus filed out of the room, their faces a mix of shock and embarrassment. As soon as the door clicked shut, Caesar sat once more and picked up a tablet and stylus, beginning to write furiously.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m writing you three messages. The first is to Publius Clodius Pulcher ordering him to release your sister and warning him that I will be returning to Rome very soon to deal with him. The second is an authorization that will give you access to every resource in my army’s supply and courier train between here and Massilia, so that you can use as many horses as you need to travel home at speed and have the best accommodation en-route. The last is to the captain of my trireme in the port of Massilia, granting you full use. Get home, Fronto and sort this out.”
Fronto stood for a moment, wreathed in anger, concern, confusion and gratitude, hardly able to figure which way to turn.
“But you’re not telling me something!”
“Marcus, there’s a lot I’m not telling you. Some of it is for your own good, and some of it is for mine. Rest assured though that I am not party to this abhorrent act. Now stop wasting time spitting in my face and go and help your sister. I will be a week behind you at most.”
Fronto stood staring helplessly at the general for a moment, not quite sure what to believe, and finally nodded, grasping the three tablets carefully as Caesar sealed them one by one, wiped his signet ring clean and then sat back.
“What the hell was that about?” Brutus said quietly as Fronto emerged from the building. Varus and Rufus had moved off, but the young legate stood with his arms crossed, waiting.
“I need to get back to Rome. Make sure the Tenth is looked after; they’ve fought hard this autumn.”
Brutus nodded and turned as his fellow legate strode on past. “Good luck, Marcus.”
Fronto, barely hearing him, fixed his eyes on the dirty figure of Galronus staggering wearily across the road towards the building that served as a mess hall, a gesticulating Priscus at his side. The cavalryman dragged his feet and looked like he hadn’t slept for several days and was waving away the busy figure of the camp prefect as he walked.
“Galronus?”
The two men paused at the sound and sight of Fronto and the Remi noble broke into an exhausted smile.
“Marcus! I’m so pleased to see you.”
“No time to rest. Get back to your horse; we need to be in Rome before I even have time to shit.”
Galronus blinked at him in surprise.
“Marcus?”
“Clodius has abducted Faleria. Come on!”
Instantly, the cavalryman shook off his fatigue, his eyes flashing with the same anger present in Fronto’s. The two men nodded at Priscus and ran off towards the stables of the cavalry as though freshly awoken.
Priscus stood silent for a moment. Should he go with them? There was nothing he’d prefer, and certainly Marcus would welcome his help. But the camp prefect’s place was here, particularly at this stage of the year’s campaigning.