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“Come on, then. What brings three such eminent folk to my house?”

He gestured to the various spare couches and seats in the room and the three men filed in and sat. Cicero manoeuvred his toga into a more comfortable position.

“I was, to be frank, rather hoping that Caesar would be here. I hear rumours that he is returning to Rome from Illyricum.”

Fronto shrugged noncommittally and Cicero steepled his fingers, gazing over the tips and addressing his host in that deep and rich tone.

“It seems that a viper has arisen in Rome these years past.”

Fronto laughed.

“A single one? A nest, I would have said.”

The orator glowered at him but otherwise ignored the comment.

“This particular viper has struck time and again and is causing troubles for the more reasonable men in Rome. I fear we have mutual enemies.”

Fronto laughed.

“All my enemies are wild, hairy men that paint their faces and run around naked trying to kill Romans. A bit like the Senate, but with better hygiene.”

Crispus shot him a warning glance, but once more, to his credit, Cicero ignored the comment.

“Publius Clodius Pulcher. The man forced my exile two years ago and it is only through the judicious use of contacts and influence that I secured my recall. My brother here had his house burned down last year by one of Clodius’ gangs, merely, I fear, for being associated with me. Young Caelius here is, however, in slightly more serious trouble. He used to be an associate of Clodius you see but, following a somewhat scandalous affair with the snake’s sister, he finds himself at the sharp end of Clodius’ fangs. I won’t go into the details at this point, but suffice it to say that he stands accused of murder, attempted murder, accepting payment for murder, assault, civil disturbance and wilful damage to property.”

Fronto gave a noncommittal shrug.

“So one of Clodius’ friends tries to knock up his sister and falls foul of them. Politicians are always doing things like this and if he’s one of Clodius’ cronies, why in the name of Fortuna should any of us give a shit? Particularly you two. And why come to me anyway?”

Cicero nodded.

“It is a good question. Caelius here has a great deal of inside knowledge of the activities and associates of Clodius and his sister that could be used in the right circumstances to bring the viper down. Can you see the value of that?”

Fronto nodded.

“Fair enough. You save Caelius and you can use him to bring Clodius down. Why me though?”

The orator glanced across at his brother and nodded. The young staff officer leaned forward.

“Quite simply, Fronto, we had nowhere else to turn. We all have a mutual enemy that we share with Caesar. We were hoping he would be here, but I told Caelius and my brother that you were the man we needed. You see, my brother is going to defend Caelius in court and make Clodius and his sister look like fools. The problem is that Clodius has eyes and knives everywhere. Anyone remotely involved in the politics of the city cannot be trusted, and nor can anyone with mercenary tendencies.”

Crispus narrowed his eyes.

“You ask a lot master Cicero. I agree that Fronto is probably the only man in Rome you can say without fear of falsehood is completely free of any possibility of influence from Clodius, but to involve him is to drop him in the centre of what is, to all intents and purposes, a war between gangs and villains. You are asking him to bodyguard a man that, shortly, could become the most wanted man in Rome.”

Fronto grinned.

Now it’s starting to sound more like fun.”

Crispus turned to look in surprise at his friend.

“Well” Fronto said, rubbing his hands, “it was all starting to sound political and boring, but if you’re talking about giving a quick knee in the happy sack to a bunch of villains round the back of the temple of Janus, then count me in.”

Priscus laughed out loud.

“If you’re fighting gangs, you’ll need a gang of your own. We’ll have to gather together a few of the less delicate types we know in the city. Fortunately, I know quite a few.”

Fronto nodded and turned to the visitors, his eyes narrowing.

“For young Cicero, here, who leads a good reserve charge and had our back at Vesontio, I would happily do whatever I can to help. And for you too, master Cicero. But I want to state for the record that I don’t trust anyone who’s ever had anything to do with that Clodius character and from what I see nobody ever gets themselves truly free of him. We’ll help you, but if you turn on us afterwards I’ll see to it that my friend Galronus gets to show us some of the less savoury Belgic practices using you as a subject. Fair?”

Caelius Rufus, his face straight and stony, nodded quietly.

“Right then. How’s this going to work? I presume you’ll need Caelius around a lot to go through trial stuff?”

Cicero pursed his lips.

“Make sure nothing happens to him, keep him either here or in some location you deem safe, and I will visit from time to time as I need to speak with him on the subject of his defence.” He turned back to his brother. “You are sure this is a good idea?”

The younger Cicero nodded.

“There’s nobody in Rome that I’d rely on more for something like this.”

Fronto leaned back in his seat and grinned at Caelius.

“Do you like to gamble?”

Cicero stopped in the middle of rising and arranging his toga.

“The idea is to keep him safe from Clodius. Surely you can’t be thinking of taking him to the games?”

Another answering grin from Fronto.

“I’m most at home in the sweaty armpit of the city and I’ll get a few friends along with us. Clodius seems to have a habit of burning down people’s houses anyway, so I think it might just be a little safer to be out in a public place.”

He turned to Priscus.

“Now about trustworthy thugs, Gnaeus: any names leap to mind?”

A narrowed eye peered through the balustrade and blinked as dust fell across it. Down below and across the roofs, small as ants, the figures of Fronto, Priscus and their small group strode along the paving beside the Circus Maximus.

The past two weeks had been fascinating viewing with all manner of interesting events. Firstly, some very highly influential politicians had visited them at Fronto’s house, including the great lawyer Cicero. Then things had settled into an odd routine. The ex-tribune Caelius had joined Fronto and his cronies, along with this growing gang of what could only be described as ‘heavies’ and the small and very odd party frequented games, drinking pits, gambling houses and more in the seedier districts of the city. Oh that was hardly surprising for Fronto and Priscus, and even for Crispus these days, but for Caelius? And with what appeared to be one of the Belgae nobles hanging around with them too?

Their shadow had observed them almost continually for a fortnight and had seen no less than four close calls where arguments and insults with other groups almost exploded into full street warfare. For the first week, he’d been perplexed. The situation was well and truly baffling. Fronto and his compatriots spending their winter break taking noblemen and foreigners into the most dangerous parts of Rome and starting fights?

Then he’d made a few enquiries, spoken to some people, and learned of the upcoming trial and its connection to Clodius. Piecing that together with Caelius, the Ciceros and Caesar’s men, he could well assume that the solid Fronto had been chosen as an appropriate guardian for the accused.

Close behind, someone cleared their throat meaningfully.

Paetus turned sharply, but the noise was innocently directed at someone else and nobody was paying him any attention. The ordinary folk of Rome passed by along the walkway at the southern edge of the Palatine, beneath the hallowed portico of the great Temple of Apollo Palatinus. Once again Paetus chided himself for lurking like some mischievous child. He was free and in no danger of being recognised.