‘The only people that Claudius would believe are Agrippina or Pallas themselves.’
‘But neither of them is ever going to admit to the thing that’ll bring them down.’
‘Of course not, senator.’ The Greek’s irritation at a statement of the obvious was conveyed by a lowering of his voice.
Vespasian cocked an ear; the noise from the tavern had taken on a different timbre.
Gaius reddened. ‘I apologise.’
Narcissus flourished a dismissive wave, half-closing his eyes. ‘But they will confess to Claudius if the alternative is being accused of treason; palpable treason, for which they will most certainly be executed.’
‘Treason?’ Vespasian asked, his attention now back to the conversation. ‘What’ve they done?’
‘The timing and the source of these reports from the East and then the recent trouble in Armenia have led me to believe that Agrippina has precipitated a crisis that not even Pallas knows of. If my instincts are correct, it is connected to the Parthian embassy that your brother so carelessly lost; but as yet I have no proof. But both of you could help me with that. Now, if this treason comes to light, it will certainly be assumed that Pallas was a party to it and will be executed along with-’ A woman’s shriek from the tavern cut him off and he looked to the door in alarm.
Vespasian jumped to his feet; masculine shouts and bellows erupted, joined by the crashing of wooden furniture. Agarpetus pulled a sword from beneath his cloak, opened the door a fraction, looked out and then quickly stepped back.
Magnus came barrelling in. ‘We’re under attack!’ he yelled as he raced across the room to a wooden chest. ‘The bastards have used the celebrations to slip past our security.’ Throwing open the lid he pulled out a sword and lobbed it over to Vespasian; another two followed for Gaius and Narcissus as Sextus crashed in. ‘Take these into the tavern, brother,’ Magnus said as he scooped out the remainder of the box’s contents and jammed them into Sextus’ arms, keeping one back for himself, ‘and then pull back here with the lads. We’ll stop them in the corridor.’
‘Who’s attacking you?’ Vespasian asked, pulling the sword from its scabbard with a metallic ring.
Magnus rammed the tip of his blade between two floorboards. ‘Fuck knows, but they’re serious.’ With a grunt he pulled back on the weapon and sprang a board up.
Vespasian realised just how serious they were as the first whiff of smoke came through the door.
‘They’re torching the place!’ Narcissus shouted, drawing his sword and looking at the blade in disbelief.
‘That’s why we need to fight our way out of the back door,’ Magnus said, hauling a strongbox out from under the floor.
The clash of iron against iron rang above the yells; then a wail added to the noise, rising in pitch and fearful realisation — someone had been hideously wounded.
‘Uncle, help Magnus with that box.’ Vespasian pushed past Narcissus and Agarpetus and stuck his head around the door to see a couple of whores burst through the leather curtain from the bar; smoke wafted in with them. They turned down the corridor and then caught sight of him, screamed, doubled back and disappeared up the staircase at the other end. Vespasian ran along to the curtain and carefully pulled it back a fraction. Flames raged behind the bar where the cooking fire had been fed some incendiary liquid; a body writhed on the counter, its wails weakening as its flesh charred. Dozens of figures struggled in the blaze’s glow, in pairs or groups, wrestling hand to hand or stabbing at close quarters, screaming, cursing, growling as they fought for their lives. The bodies of the dying squirmed in agony on the floor, entangling the legs of friend and foe alike as men strove to keep their balance and their chances of survival. Over their heads and beneath the thickening pall of smoke Vespasian could see that the door at the narrow end was barred by two hulking shapes with staves — no one was leaving by that exit.
Sextus, bellowing like a goaded, chained bear, hacked and cut downwards onto a smaller opponent’s upturned sword, forcing it ever lower as his brothers slowly gave ground around him, under pressure from weight of numbers and the growing strength of the flames. There was no way forward, only back.
‘Sextus!’ Vespasian yelled into the room. ‘Now, before it’s too late!’
Sextus roared and sliced his blade down again with a force that dislodged his opponent’s from his grip. With a speed that belied his bulk, Sextus changed the stroke from vertical to horizontal, slicing through the exposed throat with an explosion of blood, black in the flicker of the flames, before backhanding the sword into the upraised arm of the intruder next to the dying man, taking the limb off at the elbow and sending it spinning, spiralling gore, over the heads of his comrades, weapon still in hand and glinting with firelight.
Vespasian backed away from the doorway as the South Quirinal Crossroads Brothers took advantage of the moment of extreme violence to retreat a few more steps. As he went back along the corridor the first of them pushed through the leather curtain.
‘Are they coming?’ Magnus asked as Vespasian ran back into the room.
‘As fast as they can,’ Vespasian replied.
Narcissus looked at him. For the first time Vespasian saw a genuine expression on the freedman’s face; it was fear. ‘I’m the imperial secretary; I can’t be trapped here. I must get out!’
‘We must all get out, but not that way.’
‘This way,’ Magnus said, unbolting the door on the far side of the room as Gaius struggled with the strongbox, ‘there’re two back doors, well, three actually.’
Narcissus and Agarpetus dashed past him into the darkness beyond.
The first few of the brothers scrambled into the room, wafting in thick smoke as they did. The noise of fighting in the corridor carried on, fierce and unremitting, as the rest of Magnus’ brethren gave ground slowly with Sextus’ voice booming above the rest.
‘Whoever’s attacking didn’t just come for tonight’s takings,’ Vespasian observed as he took one end of the strongbox from Magnus.
Magnus shook his head, both eyes glaring, one sightlessly. ‘No, and that makes me think that we’re in the middle of a commercial takeover.’ Sword in hand he headed back to the corridor door. ‘We’ll get all the lads in here first, secure the door and then make our break for it together; if this is a move by a rival brotherhood they may well know about the exits. Fall back, lads!’ Pulling a few of the brothers out of his way he made it to the corridor as the smoke intensified. ‘Sextus, get them all in here.’ He turned to an easterner, complete with pointed beard and trousers, and an old Greek with an ugly scar on his left cheek where his beard grew rough. ‘Tigran, take half the lads to the south exit and wait for me to give the go-ahead before you pull the bolts. Cassandros, take the rest to the northern one and don’t forget the sledgehammers, just in case. We all go together. And get the lads to relieve the senators of that strongbox; what the fuck are they doing manual labour for?’
Tigran and Cassandros moved off, marshalling the brothers, two of whom took the strongbox from Vespasian and Gaius, as Magnus pulled more in from the corridor until there was just Sextus’ thrashing bulk preventing him from securing the door. ‘Now, Sextus!’
Sextus leapt backwards and, with a lightning thrust, rammed the tip of his blade into the shoulder of the nearest intruder; the man fell back into his comrades and Magnus heaved on the door, slamming it shut just as Sextus extracted his sword. He jammed the bolt into its socket as Vespasian ran forward and retrieved the iron bar that barricaded the door; within an instant it was firmly wedged in its housings.
‘Time to go, sir. Well done, Sextus, my lad.’ Magnus turned and crossed the room with his brother following as the reinforced door started to shake with blows from the far side. ‘They’ll have to pull back soon because of the smoke.’
Vespasian went to the desk and blew out the last lamp left burning in the room, leaving it lit only by the dim light coming in from the escape route. Magnus was waiting for him and bolted the door behind him as he slipped into another corridor even longer than the last as the building widened in accordance with the diverging lines of the Alta Semita and the Vicus Longus. He followed Magnus across and into a small room. From beyond an open door at the far end came the sound of fighting.