Marcus nodded, gesturing to the little dog Centurion as he gambolled around their feet.
‘And now, I think, it’s time for you to get ready. Julius and the tribune will be back soon, and you’ll have to go down to the barracks for a while.’
‘You think?’
Her husband smiled.
‘I don’t think, I know. Excingus had the look of a man with unfinished business when we last saw him, and I think that business has to do with you and I.’
The streets of the Aventine were quiet, the taverns and brothels having mostly closed for the night. The informant made his way carefully up the hill with the wine jar cradled in the crook of one arm, stepping round dark puddles of human waste poured from the higher floors of the insulae on either side, half a dozen protective figures skulking through the shadows at his back. He had purchased the container several hours before at a cut price, its contents having spoiled as the consequence of an imperfect seal between jar and plug. Pouring its contents away down the nearest drain to the highly animated disgust of half a dozen beggars, he carried the empty jar away to replace its previous contents with a different liquid altogether.
‘Here!’
The informant stiffened at the challenge, relaxing again as he realised it was the child Gaius, hidden in the shade of a doorway. The informant slid into the shadow alongside him, his whispered greeting edged with the usual sardonic tone.
‘I’m impressed. Most children of your age were in their beds hours ago.’
The boy showed his teeth in what might just have been a smile.
‘Most children of my age ain’t on the promise of a gold coin just to watch a house until you turn up. Where the fuck have you been? I’ve had to show my knife to two dirty old men while I’ve been sat here looking at nothing. And what’s in the jar?’
‘I’ve been sorting a few things out ready for going away. The jar contains one last gift from me to an old friend. Well, an acquaintance.’
The child looked past him at the man who had materialised from the shadows.
‘Hello, Dad.’
Silus grinned at his son, his teeth a slash of dull white in the darkness.
‘Hello, Son. All quiet?’
Gaius nodded.
‘All quiet. Them soldiers was up here earlier, but they only went to that shop, loaded some stuff into their cart and then buggered off back down the hill.’
Excingus frowned.
‘I still don’t see why they bothered with the whole barbering idea. Presumably they were carrying off the weapons they’d left in the shop. I hear they took the Hilltop Boys to pieces this morning.’
The child laughed without humour.
‘Didn’t do no good though. There was another gang on the street soon enough, telling the shopkeepers what’s what and putting them back in their place.’
Excingus smiled sadly.
‘It will ever be so, I’m afraid. Ah well, to business. You’re sure nobody’s been in or out of the house since the gladiators left?’
‘Nobody at all.’
‘And all of the gladiators left?’
Gaius nodded emphatically.
‘Hours ago. I counted them. All the soldiers went off down the hill too, that bloke in the toga and all his barbarians, and the officers that usually hang around with him.’
‘Which means that Marcus Valerius Aquila and his family are enjoying a quiet night after what must have been a joyous reunion. Plenty of wine taken, no doubt, which ought to make your task easier, Silus. Off you go then!’
The hired thug gathered his men to him with a grunted command, leading them across the road to the house’s wall. They paused for a moment in its shadows, then climbed swiftly over its smooth cap stones one at a time, dropping out of sight into the garden.
‘We’ll give your father a few minutes to do what has to be done, shall we, and then I’ll wander over and finish the job.’
Gaius nodded, looking with curiosity at the leather satchel on his employer’s back.
‘What’s in the bag?’
Excingus smiled at him benevolently.
‘Exactly the same question your father asked me not an hour ago. And the answer, young thief, is that it contains more money than you could ever imagine.’
The boy’s face screwed up in disbelief.
‘What, in that little satchel? Not likely …’
‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Listen and learn, you revolting little monster. There is money in my bag, enough to pay you and Silus for your services, and a further sum by way of a reward for getting me to my ship in Ostia later this morning. But since I’m not entirely unaware of the risk that Silus, being a direct sort of man, might simply murder me here and take his bonus without having actually earned it, it is in the form of a banker’s draft.’
‘A what?’
Excingus sighed.
‘A banker’s draft. A piece of paper that details the money I have given to my banker, a man of undoubted trustworthiness as evidenced by his membership of his profession’s guild. I’m carrying two such drafts, one to give to Silus when I’m safely aboard my ship, and another which allows me access to my total fortune, which, I should add, is considerable, at any city large enough to merit the presence of other bankers. All I have to do is prove my bona fides to the banker in that far off place, and he will provide me with money against that draft. The proof is a word, something known to both bankers, which I will tell Silus once my safety from his somewhat acquisitive nature-’
‘His what?’
‘His fondness for killing people and taking their possessions.’
The child nodded, familiar with both his father’s choice of career and the enthusiastic manner in which he pursued its rewards.
‘So my old man takes this piece of paper, says this word to the banker, and he gets paid?’
‘Well done, you’ve grasped the concept. Further proof that your intelligence stems from your mother. Do your best to help Silus grasp the concept will you? I suspect he still has a yearning to knife me on the road to Ostia and claim my fortune for himself, which would be a shame for both of us. And no, since I know the way your devious little head works, I don’t know the word. It’s written on a piece of paper which I placed in my travel chest without reading it, a chest which has already been delivered to the ship in question. It really is quite foolproof, as long as you can persuade your father not to upset the apple cart and in doing so cheat himself out of his reward. And now, I think, Silus has had more than long enough to deal with a sleeping family. Stay here. He rose from the doorway’s concealment, padding carefully across the road and trying the door that led into the garden of Felicia’s house, gratified to find it unbolted.
‘You really are confident in your own abilities, aren’t you, Centurion. That must be the pride that took root just before the gods decided to punish you.’
The knock at the front door was soft, barely loud enough to be heard. After a moment, the signal was repeated, slightly louder than before, and Marcus opened the door to find Excingus standing there with a triumphant grin on his face and a large wine jar in the crook of his arm. The scene was illuminated by a small torch that had been placed in the sconce an hour or so before, its flames casting an orange tinge on the informant’s momentarily horrified face.
‘Ah … Centurion! I’ve … come to celebrate your miraculous escape from the very jaws of a slow and painful death!’
Peering over Marcus’s shoulder at the darkened room beyond, he frowned in apparent admonishment at the younger man.
‘Surely you won’t deny me a crumb of hospitality, Valerius Aquila? Can we let the past lie where it fell, and at least part company on civil terms?’
Marcus looked at him for a moment before replying.
‘My wife is asleep. Come in, say what you have to say and then leave us in peace.’