Marcus took in the plan quickly. Then he turned to Kasos with a searching expression, still unsure if he should trust the other boy. ‘Why are you really doing this?’
‘I told you why,’ Kasos replied, then gave a soft laugh as he continued. ‘Besides, I’ll be Milo’s blue-eyed boy once you’ve gone. Just swear to me you’ll never, ever return to The Pit.’
‘You have my word.’ Marcus smiled grimly and offered his hand.
Kasos stared at it briefly and then shook it firmly. ‘Now, over the side.’
Marcus clambered on to the rail and carefully lowered himself down until his feet found a grip on one of the supporting timbers. Kasos turned back to keep an eye on the wharf as Marcus worked himself under the walkway.
But before he lost sight of the other boy, he called softly, ‘Kasos!’
Kasos turned and looked down.
‘Thank you,’ Marcus said.
Then Kasos was gone. Marcus found a thick timber support and wedged himself into it. Moments later he heard Kasos shout overhead.
‘Over here! I’ve got him. Over here!’
There was a loud splash from the river below, then the drumming of boots overhead.
‘What happened?’ Milo demanded. ‘Where is he?’
‘In the Tiber,’ Kasos replied. ‘We were fighting and I pushed him over the rail.’
Footsteps sounded directly above Marcus. He kept as still as he could, his breathing shallow as his limbs began to tremble from exhaustion. This might be a trick, after all — Kasos could betray him at any moment.
‘Anyone see him?’ asked Milo.
There was no reply as the last ripples from the sack of gravel faded away and the river continued its peaceful flow.
‘He’s gone,’ a voice decided. ‘Probably drowned.’
‘Maybe,’ Milo responded. ‘But I’ll leave a few men here in case he managed to reach one of the boats. Kasos, and the rest of you, back to the wharf and wait for us there.’
Footsteps rumbled overhead once again.
‘If he’s drowned, then we can continue with the plan,’ said Bibulus. ‘Caesar will know nothing.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said the familiar voice of the man whose hood remained up. ‘My master will not be pleased if we fail.’
‘We won’t fail,’ Bibulus insisted. ‘Soon Caesar will be dead and all the insults and indignities I’ve endured will be avenged.’
Milo chuckled. ‘And I thought the street gangs were the ones who are supposed to have no scruples. Truly, there is nothing more devious and lethal than a politician with a grudge.’
Their footsteps faded away and Marcus was left shivering as he perched on the support beam. His body felt sore and bruised from his tumble down the gully and he was exhausted, but he dared not sleep for fear of falling into the river. So he raised his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms round them and composed his mind to stay alert through the remaining hours of darkness.
24
‘Are you certain about what you heard?’ asked Caesar. Marcus stood next to the kitchen table, wearing only a loincloth, as Festus cleaned his cuts. Even he had been surprised when he’d taken off his ragged tunic and seen the full scale of the injuries he’d suffered during his escape. His knee was especially bad, a deep gash that had torn the flesh and would leave a nasty scar. He hadn’t wanted to remove his tunic in full view, but Festus left him no choice. At least his shoulder faced away from the rest of the room. Marcus prayed that the filth Lupus had applied still disguised his brand.
‘Yes, master,’ Marcus replied. ‘There’s no mistake. They intend to kill you once you have announced the senators will be forced to swear obedience to the new law.’
‘And you are sure that it was Bibulus you saw with Milo?’
‘It was Bibulus.’
‘And the other man? He never revealed his face to you?’
‘Not once, master. But there was something about his voice I recognized.’
‘Hmmm.’ Caesar stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘This is quite a turn-up. There’s a handful of men I suspect capable of having me killed, but Bibulus is not one of them. He lacks the stomach for it. I thought he was like Cato, all bluster and high principle. Now it seems he has a more ruthless streak. I wonder who talked him into it?’
There was a knock on the door frame and Flaccus entered the room. He looked surprised at the injuries covering Marcus’s body.
‘What is it?’ asked Caesar.
‘Publius Clodius is in the atrium, master. He says you sent for him.’
It was the first thing Caesar had done after Marcus returned shortly after dawn.
‘That’s correct. Show him in.’
‘Do you wish to receive him in your study, master?’
‘No. Send him here.’
Flaccus glanced round the kitchen before he bowed his head and spoke in a disapproving tone. ‘As you wish, master.’
He backed out of the doorway and shortly afterwards returned with Clodius. The young aristocrat clasped arms with Caesar before turning his attention on Marcus.
‘Well, well, the spy returns. And quickly too. I take it your mission was a failure.’
Before Marcus could reply, Caesar cut in. ‘Certainly not. Young Marcus found out a great deal before he was discovered and forced to flee. We know the enemy’s plans in detail now.’
‘Oh?’ Clodius turned his gaze on Marcus. ‘Well, there’s obviously more to you than meets the eye, young gladiator. You have done a man’s job. I congratulate you.’
Marcus felt his heart swell with pride and he bowed his head in thanks.
Clodius turned to Caesar. ‘So what are they up to?’
Once Caesar had briefly outlined the plot, Clodius pondered a while before responding. ‘Clearly, you can’t attend the Senate with a killer close at hand. You’ll have to postpone your amendment until the danger has passed. I always thought it was a step too far to insist on the Senate taking an oath never to repeal the Land Bill. You know how touchy they are when too much power seems to be in the hands of one individual.’
‘And you can imagine how touchy I am about politics stooping to the level of murder. My murder in particular,’ Caesar retorted.
‘Quite,’ Clodius sniggered. ‘So what do you intend to do about it?’
‘I will not show them I am afraid. That would only make them more confident. So it’s business as usual. I shall go to the Senate and put my amendment to the senators.’
Festus paused from dabbing the dirt and grit out of Marcus’s cuts. ‘No, master. Why place yourself in the way of an assassin’s knife? You can’t take the risk.’
‘Any life worth living is a risky business, my dear Festus. But I take your point and I fully intend to reduce the danger posed to me. First, I will have Marcus join me when I attend the Senate. The other side has seen his face, so it would be best if he wore a hood. He is to watch for any sign of the signal he spoke of. The instant that happens, you and your men must close ranks about me, Festus. At the same time, I want Clodius and his gangs to take control of the approaches to the Senate House. We won’t give Milo a chance to create any diversion.’ Caesar looked round at the others. ‘As long as we are all vigilant, there is little danger.’
Clodius chuckled. ‘It’s your decision, Caesar.’
Marcus wondered if his master was truly as calm as he appeared. But a sudden insight struck him. In some ways, men like Caesar were the same as gladiators. They were raised to face danger without showing fear and, if the need arose, to meet their end with dignity before the eyes of the world. Their contests might be fought in very different arenas, but the stakes were essentially the same: life and glory, or death.
Caesar turned his attention to Marcus. ‘Once again, I owe you my thanks. You are as brave as any soldier I have ever commanded, and I will see you are rewarded when the time is right.’