The two men up the ladders fiddled for few moments with the slave women and then leapt down as shrill screams pierced the night air. As soon as the ladders were removed the wagon thundered off into the night, turning left down a side street and disappearing.
The screeching continued.
Tigran aimed his arrow at the closed garden door of Fabricius’ house; light leaked from beneath it. On the roof one of the two slaves started to slide down, increasing the intensity of the shrieks.
‘They really don’t like snakes down their tunics,’ Magnus observed, staring at the door, willing it to open. ‘Come on, come on.’
The sliding slave neared the edge and then, with a shriller but suddenly curtailed yelp, fell into the garden.
The door opened and two bulky figures filled its frame.
‘Bodyguards,’ Magnus whispered unnecessarily.
The second slave continued screaming; the men ran towards her, disappearing from view as an enormous female shape, obviously naked, took their place in the doorway, closely followed by a second and then a third.
Tigran’s aim remained firmly fixed on the mounds of female flesh silhouetted against the soft light burning within the house.
A harsh shout from inside caused the three women to turn and move apart; light played on the rolls of fat that draped their forms and wobbled as they moved. A slight man appeared in their midst, pushing them out of the way.
Tigran’s bow thrummed.
The man stopped.
The women jumped back.
Tigran’s bow twanged again; this time the man jerked, arcing around with his left shoulder raised. The women brought their hands up to their mouths but failed to stifle the squawks that welled up from inside as Fabricius collapsed to the floor with two arrows in his chest.
‘Great shooting, brother,’ Magnus said, shaking his head in admiration. ‘You’ve just created a most convenient vacancy.’
‘I’ve made my recommendation,’ Gaius informed Magnus the following day as he and a few of his brothers escorted the senator back up the Quirinal from the Senate House.
‘And?’
‘And the aedile was rather surprised to hear that there was a vacancy, it was the first he knew of it; I assured him that it was the case – one of Fabricius’ rivals had finished him off over an argument about positioning in the senators’ enclosure. I told him that it wouldn’t be worth investigating because whichever one of the other three did it would be sure to cover his tracks.’
‘Very sensible advice, senator; we wouldn’t want a man whose time is as valuable as the aedile’s wasting it on a pointless investigation.’
‘Exactly, especially when he should be utilising it on the far more important task of making sure that there are enough book-makers for the senators to place wagers with next race day.’
Magnus nodded sagely. ‘Far more important. What did the aedile think of your suggestion?’
‘He took the hundred aurei that you gave me to give him and said that he would send for Ignatius immediately. He then expressed a warm certainty that if Ignatius could come up with a sizable incentive for the aedile to appoint him it would be confirmed by this evening before any other bookmakers heard of Fabricius’ unfortunate end and applied for the position themselves.’
‘That’s very understanding of him; perhaps you’d like to give him a racing tip as a thank you? I’m sure Ignatius would be only too pleased to take the aedile’s wager after the generosity he’s shown him.’
Gaius looked at Magnus and narrowed his eyes. ‘Ah! I see: create a certainty, then have people who can afford a large bet lay money with Ignatius and break him. That’ll do it; but how does that help Sabinus?’
‘We just have to choose the right time to drop his name with someone; but first I’ve got to create that certainty.’
‘How do you plan to do that?’
‘By having a nice quiet chat with the Green faction master after the Equirria.’
The Campus Martius brimmed with people in holiday spirits a few days later, making their way to the already packed Trigarium, nestled in the east and south of the Tiber’s curve. Having no permanent structures, it was an area ideal for exercising horses; but today it was not mere exercise that the people of Rome were coming to see, it was racing: the Equirria, a series of horse races in honour of Mars.
Magnus barged a path through the heaving crowds towards the Greens’ race-day camp on the banks of the river. Although it was not chariots being raced, the factions still entered using their hortatores as jockeys; they would prove to be stiff competition for the noble young bucks who rode their favoured mounts in the gruelling races set over different distances.
‘Lucius!’ Magnus shouted over the hubbub, spotting his friend checking the girth and saddle of one of the Green horses.
Lucius looked up from his work. ‘Magnus, my friend, I was expecting you.’ He paused, waiting for Magnus to draw closer. ‘I’ve got good news, but not here, I’ll tell you away from the camp.’
A huge roar engulfed the whole Trigarium, signalling the start of the first race. Wearing the colours of their factions or, if they were independent, just a plain tunic, the twelve jockeys urged their mounts at terrifying speeds around the oval course carved through the throng of spectators. With no barriers marking its route, the course itself was a fluid affair, subject to the undulations of the crowd, suddenly narrowing and then widening again as they surged to better see the race. Waving faction flags or ribbons, they cheered on the riders as they negotiated their way around the treacherous track, narrowly missing – or sometimes clipping with disastrous consequences – foolhardy spectators who had encroached on to their path.
Handing the horse’s bridle to an attending slave, Lucius led Magnus away from the Green camp and into the heaving mass. ‘I heard the faction master telling my uncle yesterday that the mares and geldings will run in two days’ time in the second race.’
‘And that’s for sure?’
Lucius shrugged. ‘As sure as it can ever be; there’s always the chance of injury during training.’
‘And how is their training going?’
‘Excellently, my friend. The two teams of geldings would both stand a good chance of winning even without the help of the mares on heat.’
‘That’s good news. Where can I find your faction master?’
‘Euprepes will be in the tent in the middle of our camp; I’ll be able to get you in if you want an introduction.’
‘Better not, mate, I’ll do it myself; it would be tricky for you to be seen associating with me after what I’ve got to say to him.’
Lucius looked worried. ‘You’re not going to tell him that you know about the mares, are you?’
‘No, my friend, I wouldn’t betray your loyalty like that.’
‘Euprepes will see no one without an appointment,’ the ex-gladiator guarding the tent informed Magnus, cracking both his shoulders in turn to stress the point.
‘Oh, but I have an appointment; in fact I’ve got a permanent appointment. You tell him that the man who’s going to make him richer even than when he was a charioteer driving first for the Blues and then the Greens is here to see him.’
‘He won’t believe you so I’d fuck off quietly if I was you, mate.’
Magnus squared up to the guard. ‘I’ve got no intention of fucking off quietly – or loudly for that matter. Now you listen to me, matey-boy, I’ll get to talk to Euprepes somehow, very soon, and I’ll inform him, as he’s hugging me to his breast with tears of joy in his eyes and gratitude welling in his heart at my generosity, that his involvement in my proposal very nearly didn’t happen because of an over-officious oaf obstinately denying me ingress to his tent. Now, do you want to risk what will happen when he contemplates the magnitude of your error or would you prefer to pop in and tell him that Marcus Salvius Magnus is here with a proposition that will make the prize money from winning nearly two thousand races seem like nothing more than what a dockside whore-boy earns for parting his buttocks for a Syrian sailor?’