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Euprepes fists slammed down on to his knees. ‘A hail of curses!’

Magnus inhaled, deeply, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath for a very long time. ‘Very good, my friend; nothing like nail-studded lead tablets to bring a horse down.’

Servius nodded in appreciation, playing nervously with the loose skin on his neck. ‘And who’s to say who threw them, the track’s always littered with them.’

Magnus glanced up at the dolphins as the fifth tilted down. Lacerta pulled his body back on the reins around his waist, slowing his Blue team, taking the bend tightly and allowing Scorpus to draw level with him as he took the longer route around the outside at considerably more speed; their supporters screamed them both on. They whipped their teams away down the Aventine straight for the sixth time, neck and neck; their hortatores both waved an arm above their heads indicating the position of the Numidian’s wrecked chariot. Ahead the trailing two Green teams could just be glimpsed rounding the far turning point.

As the three Reds began their sixth lap, Magnus felt the bile rise in his throat and sweat trickling down his cheeks; he glanced over at Ahenobarbus in despair. ‘They’ll never catch them; our only chance is that Lacerta and Scorpus bring each other down.’ He looked with venom at the trailing Green teams, now almost three-quarters of a lap behind the leaders. ‘I never thought I’d say this but: fucking Greens!’

As Lacerta and Scorpus turned into the last lap the last two Green chariots were only halfway down the Aventine straight.

With another quick look at the imperial box Magnus saw that Ahenobarbus was sitting very, very still. ‘That’s it,’ he muttered, getting to his feet, ‘I’m off; I intend to be out of the city within the hour.’

Euprepes grabbed his arm and pulled him back. ‘It’s not over until the final dolphin dives.’

‘It is for me.’

Euprepes looked Magnus in the eye. ‘Trust me.’

‘I was mad to.’

‘You weren’t; sit back down and watch.’

Magnus did so reluctantly as the trailing two Greens disappeared around the far end of the spina and the excitement of the White and Blue supporters reached a crescendo. Lacerta and Scorpus rounded the turning post with very little between them, more than fifty paces ahead of the Reds, whom Magnus had meant to be triumphant, followed by the third Green.

Now, sure of disaster, Magnus did not care that the top quarter of the Palatine straight all but was blocked from his view; he stared glumly at the first gap that afforded sight of the action, waiting for the inevitable, unable to believe that Euprepes’ Green charioteers could salvage the situation from so far behind. They came through, side by side, almost cantering now, having given up hope. Lacerta and Scorpus pounded up behind them hell for leather; their hortatores screamed at the Greens and they parted to let them through as the Red teams rounded the final corner.

Slashing his whip down, Scorpus exhorted his team on, edging just ahead of Lacerta as they neared the gap.

The inside Green charioteer glanced over his shoulder; with an abrupt crack of the whip and a jerk of his right leg, he forced his horses to accelerate. As they sped forward the chariot’s right wheel flew off; the crippled vehicle collapsed to one side, dragging the team out to the right and into Scorpus’ path, forcing him into Lacerta. The Blue and White teams collided and ricocheted off each other into the Green chariots on either side, slowing abruptly as the terrified beasts shied. Holding his diagonal course, the inside Green forced the rearing White team back into the Blues who in turn remained penned in by the second Green. With bestial screeches – heard only by the charioteers – lost beneath the howls of outrage from the Blue and White factions, all sixteen horses collapsed to the right fighting against each other in a flurry of equine limbs in vain attempts to stay upright.

Then a new sound rose over the circus: the sound of celebration; Red celebration. Magnus stared, dumbfounded, as first one, then two and then a third Red chariot crossed the line followed, in fourth place, by the final Green. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened; for a moment he sat motionless before springing to his feet and punching both fists in the air with a high-pitched howl of jubilation.

He felt a sharp tug on his tunic and looked down still roaring.

‘A little more discretion would perhaps be appropriate, brother,’ Servius suggested, indicating around with his eyes.

Magnus looked up; he was surrounded by a sea of silent Green supporters staring in incomprehension at the one man in their midst who derived pleasure from a Red one-two-three. Magnus lowered his arms and shrugged apologetically at the nearest Greens. ‘We did come fourth.’ He sank down, hyperventilating in relief and then tried but failed to suppress the urge to vomit.

Magnus and Euprepes stood under one of the great arches of the Circus Maximus looking out over the Forum Boarium at the Racing Factions packing up for the day. Echoing off the stone all around were the cries of support and howls of disappointment of the people of Rome watching the final race.

‘As soon as my lads get back with all our winnings I’ll be off, my friend,’ Magnus said, proffering his forearm to Euprepes. ‘The South Quirinal Crossroads Brotherhood is four thousand aurii better off from all the bets we spread around. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.’

‘And I’m a few hundred thousand in silver better off because of your idea, Magnus.’

‘It may have been my idea, but I shall be giving the credit to someone unsuspecting.’

‘You give the credit to whomever you want but the fact remains that between us we are the first people to have fixed a one-two-three without anyone noticing.’

‘Us with a little help from the gods.’

‘Gods? I didn’t notice any gods being involved.’

‘What about the wheel coming off at the last moment?’ Euprepes raised his eyebrows. ‘At just the right time, you mean?’

‘Yeah, if that wasn’t the gods, I don’t know what it was.’

‘Mechanics, my friend. The charioteer had a strap around his right foot; a sharp jerk pulled a bolt from the axle and the right wheel came off at just the right time. The other chariot had one too but didn’t need to use it.’

‘But . . .’ Magnus frowned, looking puzzled for a few moments, and then his expression gradually brightened in dawning realisation. ‘Oh, I see! I’m sorry I doubted you, that’s brilliant, Euprepes; those last two chariots were always meant to be last.’

‘Exactly. How else could we absolutely guarantee to have two chariots in front of the winners unless they were about to be lapped; and then, when an accident happens . . .’

‘Like a wheel falling off, for example?’

‘That’s a very good example, Magnus, it happens all the time. When an accident happens we can’t be accused of deliberately crashing into the winners to fix the race.’

‘And all bets must be honoured.’

‘Indeed. And I didn’t have to risk my best horses in a deliberate crash. My worst two teams had no problems being in the right position, almost a lap behind, by the end of the race.’