Marcus clambered up beside Milo. The man placed a heavy hand on his shoulder as he addressed his audience again. ‘Even this boy is more of a man than Brutus. At least he has the courage to stand against greater odds when he needs to, and win. If this boy can stand up for himself, so can any man here.’ Marcus felt every pair of eyes turned towards him, and couldn’t help feeling nervous at the attention. He was supposed to be a spy, not a public example. What if someone recognized him from the battle with Clodius?
‘I will cut the throat of the next man who wants to talk peace with Clodius. We shall have peace, one day, I swear it. The same day that Clodius, and the last of his men, lie dead at my feet. Until then we fight on, without rest, without pity and without any doubt that the gods are on the side of the Aventine.’
Milo punched his fist into the air and let out a cheer. Most of his men joined him in a ragged chorus, but Marcus could see many were half-hearted, and some did not cheer at all. Milo kept it up for a moment before he prodded Spurius with the toe of his boot and jerked his thumb towards Brutus, who was lying sprawled on the ground, his head in a small puddle of blood. ‘Get that coward out of here. When he comes to, you tell him he’s finished as far as the Aventine gangs are concerned. If he ever shows his face here again, I’ll carve it from his skull with the bluntest blade I can find.’
Spurius winced at the threat and nodded. ‘Yes, Milo. I’ll see to it.’
‘We don’t need the likes of Brutus,’ Milo continued thought-fully. ‘The time has come for more direct steps. .’
He suddenly looked at Marcus. ‘What are you still standing there for? Clean this mess up and bring me a fresh jug of wine.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Marcus bowed his head quickly. With a sigh of relief he jumped down from the table. He trotted past Spurius as he dragged Brutus towards the nearest alley out of The Pit. At the back of the inn Demetrius thrust a broom into Marcus’s hands, then picked up a fresh jug of wine for Milo.
‘That’s a shame,’ Demetrius sighed. ‘Brutus was one of my better customers — he even paid for his drinks some of the time.’
Milo was waiting for them as they stepped out of the inn. He gestured towards Marcus.
‘You can leave the cleaning for now. I need you to find Kasos. There’s an important errand I want him to run. .’
It was late in the evening when Kasos returned to The Pit. He was not alone. Two men were with him, each one wrapped in a cloak with their hoods raised to conceal their features. One of Milo’s men had been keeping watch in an alley leading to the gang’s lair and escorted them through the other men guarding the approaches to the open space.
It had been a quiet night at the inn. Most of the customers had been subdued — especially the gang members, who had fallen to muttering among themselves, occasionally glancing round to make sure no one was listening. As the inn began to empty, Milo appeared and told Demetrius to get rid of his remaining customers and close the shutters.
‘But they haven’t finished drinking,’ Demetrius protested.
‘I don’t care. Get rid of them. Now. I’ll wait outside. Let me know when the last of ’em is out.’
Demetrius saw the dangerous glare in the gang leader’s eyes and turned to Marcus.
‘Come on, lad, you heard. Let’s clear the place.’
They moved from bench to bench, passing on the instruction. Some customers started to argue, but when told who had given the order they instantly fell silent, downed their drinks and left. One last man had passed out across a table at the back. Demetrius called Marcus and they dragged him outside, dumping him a short distance down the slope. That was when Marcus caught sight of Kasos and the two hooded men making their way across the open space to the inn.
‘Come here, Demetrius,’ Milo commanded. ‘I have a couple of guests I need to speak to in private. We’ll use your inn. I take it you won’t mind if I help myself to ajar of your good stuff?’
‘N-no, Milo.’ The innkeeper bowed his head and forced a smile. ‘Of course not. Be my guest. Make yourself at home.’
‘I’ll also need some bread, dried sausage and olives.’ Demetrius flapped a hand. ‘I have bread. But no sausage, no olives.’
‘Then go and buy some. Enough to feed me and two friends.’
‘Of course, I’ll send the boy and — ’
‘No. You go. The boy can stay and serve us with wine.’
Demetrius swallowed his pride and nodded as he took off his apron. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘Quicker would be best for all concerned,’ Milo responded darkly. ‘I’m not in a patient mood.’
‘At once then.’ Demetrius nodded and hurried to his back room, emerging with his purse. He paused at the door and looked at Marcus. ‘Go down to the cellar. That’s where I keep the best wine. There’s ajar of Arretian, my last.’ He fought down a choke at losing his prized wine. ‘Use that.’
‘You’re too kind.’ Milo smiled as he patted the innkeeper on the shoulder. ‘And use the side door when you come back. We don’t want to be disturbed.’
Demetrius muttered a surly reply and disappeared into the darkness. Once he had gone Milo turned to Marcus. ‘Fetch the wine, boy.’
‘At once,’ Marcus said, and made his way to the rear of the inn. As he reached the threshold of the back room, he heard voices and paused to look round. Milo was framed by the entrance as he spoke to someone outside. ‘Here’s a denarius for you, Kasos. You’ve done well. Just make sure you don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Now be on your way.’
Then Milo stood aside and ushered two men inside. Marcus edged into the back room and peered cautiously round the door frame to keep the men in view. His heart was pounding in his chest and his skin tingled with excitement. Who were these visitors to The Pit? Perhaps this was the moment when he’d discover something to tip the balance in Caesar’s favour. He looked them over. One man wore fine leather boots and a richly embroidered tunic. His companion was more plainly dressed and wore heavy soldier’s boots. A fiery red ruby glinted on the ring he wore on one hand. Milo closed the door behind them and indicated a table close to the counter.
‘I appreciate your coming. No doubt you’ve heard my men were given a good kicking today.’
‘We know,’ one of the cloaked figures replied. It was impossible for Marcus to know which had spoken from the deep hoods of their cloaks. ‘And we’re not pleased, Milo. You’re supposed to be in control of the streets. That’s what you promised us. That’s what we paid you a very large sum of money to achieve.’
‘Unfortunately, Clodius’s backers have rather deeper pockets than you,’ Milo replied tersely. ‘That’s why he’s been able to buy the support of the other gangs. If you had paid me as much, there would be no doubt about the outcome of the fight for control of the streets. The time has come to change our strategy. ’
‘We agree,’ said the man in the cloak as he and his companion followed Milo to the table and sat down. ‘A more direct course of action is required, and that is why I have brought my friend here.’
‘You can drop the hoods,’ said Milo. ‘We’re alone.’
‘Since we know each other, that’s fair enough for me. But my companion’s identity must remain a secret, even from you.’ The man reached up with his hands and drew his hood back.
Marcus felt his pulse quicken as he recognized the man and his name almost soundlessly escaped from his Ups. ‘Bibulus. .’
If Caesar’s bitterest rival had dared come here to talk to Milo in person then it was clear that Bibulus and his friends were planning something so secret they dare not trust to a go-between. Marcus felt his pulse quicken. This was why he had volunteered for this perilous task. At last he might discover some priceless information for Caesar. Something that would help win this struggle for Caesar once and for all.