‘You may be right,’ said Cato. ‘But if you were the Liberators, wouldn’t you want to remove the imperial family in one go? Why risk Tigellinus and those men who sabotaged the dam only to have to go through it all again with the rest of the imperial family? With the Emperor dead the security around the rest of them would become far tighter; the Liberators would find it much harder to finish the job.’
Macro reflected on this for a moment. ‘Perhaps they’re getting desperate. They’ve already failed in one attempt to assassinate the imperial family. Perhaps they’re taking their chances as and when they can.’
‘That might be,’ Cato conceded. ‘But there’s another possibility. What if we are dealing with more than one conspiracy here? What if the Liberators are plotting to eliminate the imperial family, while at the same time Pallas and Agrippina are also plotting to do away with Claudius and clear the path to the throne for Nero?’
Macro shook his head. ‘That still doesn’t explain this afternoon. If Pallas was responsible, then how do you explain Tigellinus’s part in it?’
Cato puffed irritably. ‘I can’t. Not yet. Unless he’s some kind of double agent … What if he were?’ Cato’s mind suddenly raced ahead with the suggestion. ‘Now that would make sense of things. The question then becomes which side is he really working for and which side is he misleading?’ He recalled what he knew of the recently promoted centurion. ‘He returned to Rome from exile about the same time as Agrippina. Perhaps he’s working in her interests. He could be posing as a servant of the Liberators to use them to help Agrippina and Pallas …’ A sudden flash of inspiration fired Cato’s mind. ‘Yes! That would make some sense of what happened this afternoon. The Empress and Pallas intend to wait until the Liberators have removed Claudius and then seize power. When she has what she wants and Nero sits on the throne, she can use the intelligence gathered by Tigellinus to move against the Liberators.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Clever, very clever.’
‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself,’ Macro said drily. ‘Maybe you’re right but that doesn’t help us to discover how the Liberators are intending to do away with Claudius.’
‘I know.’ Cato’s expression resumed its earlier weariness. ‘All the same, I must let Narcissus know about my suspicions as soon as possible. If I’m right, then the threat to Claudius is greater than Narcissus knows.’
‘After today’s dowsing, I think Narcissus might just be thinking that already.’
Cato laughed. The sensation felt as if a burden had been lifted from his mind. He realised how exhausted he was. Aside from the strength-sapping struggle against the body of water that swept him away and down the river, Cato was covered with scratches and bruises from the battering he had endured in the process. He needed rest badly, and looking at Macro he could see that his friend did too.
‘The hour’s late. We should get some sleep.’
Macro nodded and they rose stiffly and made their way out of the mess. They exchanged nods with the men still playing dice and then closed the door behind them. Outside a long colonnade led to the stairs up to the second storey. They had passed the centurion’s quarters and office and then the first of the section rooms when they saw a figure by the foot of the stairs pace slowly towards them. The man’s features were indiscernible. He stopped ten feet away, blocking their path. Cato strained his eyes and could just make out that the man was covered in mud. He wore a tunic and boots and his dagger scabbard was empty. His sword hung against his left hip, as was the custom for officers. Cato swore a silent oath and stood to attention.
‘Centurion Tigellinus. Sir, I thought we had lost you.’
‘Tigellinus?’ Macro began, then snapped to attention beside Cato.
The other man was breathing heavily, and there was a pause as he stared back. Then his lips parted in a faint grin.
‘Back from the dead, that’s what I am. Bloody river swept me on for miles before I grounded on some stinking mudbank. By the time I got out and made my way back to the lake, the rest of you had gone and it was dark. So I marched back here.’ He took a step forward and stared at Cato. ‘So what happened?’
‘Sir?’
‘The Emperor, did he survive?’
‘Yes, sir.’
There was no expression in the centurion’s mud-streaked face and he remained silent for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was unnaturally calm and measured. ‘Was it you that saved the Emperor’s life?’
‘No, sir. It was Tribune Burrus.’ Cato lowered his voice and spoke deliberately. ‘Although you might easily have reached the Emperor first, had you not stumbled.’
‘Yes, I would have reached him,’ Tigellinus replied flatly. ‘Was the Emperor injured?’
‘No, sir. Just badly shaken by the incident. The survivors of the escort took him to the palace before returning to the Praetorian camp.’
‘I see.’ Tigellinus was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he cleared his throat. ‘How many casualties among our lads?’
‘Over a third of the century, sir. Though some of them are marked down as missing, including you.’
‘Then Fuscius is in command?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Sleeping it off, sir. Do you want us to wake him and send him to you?’
Tigellinus thought a moment and shook his head. ‘No need. Just tell him that I’ve returned and he’s back to normal duties when the morning trumpet sounds.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The centurion regarded Cato and Macro in silence until Macro coughed lightly.
‘Is there anything else, sir?’
‘I’m not sure. Is there anything else that you two want to tell me?’
‘Sir?’ Macro responded innocently.
‘I wonder, did you have any specific orders to carry out today?’
‘Orders, sir?’ Cato intervened. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t play the fool with me, Capito. You, Calidus and I are sufficiently well acquainted with Centurion Sinius and his friends to know what we are all about. So you don’t have to pretend otherwise. I’ll ask you again. Did Sinius give you any orders today?’ Tigellinus leant forward slightly, his intent gaze flicking between Cato and Macro. ‘Well?’
Cato felt his heartbeat quicken and feared that his inner turmoil might be read in his face. He strove to keep a steady and neutral expression as he stared back at the centurion with unwavering eyes. It was tempting to deny everything and play dumb. But it was clear that Tigellinus knew about their connection to the Liberators, probably from his dealings with Centurion Sinius, or perhaps another conspirator higher up the chain of command. Equally clearly he suspected that their orders were being withheld from him.
With a sudden flare of insight Cato realised that Tigellinus was as fearful as he was. If his masters had given separate orders to either Cato or Macro, or both, then it was clear that they did not trust him enough to share that information. Worse, they might actually distrust Tigellinus enough to order a separate attempt on the Emperor’s life in case Tigellinus failed. Cato had to make his response quickly, before the centurion turned his attention to Macro. He made his decision. If the Liberators were on the verge of attempting to overthrow the Emperor then it was important to disrupt their plans.
‘Yes, sir,’ Cato replied in a wary tone. ‘Sinius told me of your orders, and said that I was to carry the assassination through if you failed for any reason.’
Tigellinus drew a long, deep breath and exhaled through clenched teeth. ‘I see. And you did not think to tell me this?’