‘I’d rather not say. I was hoping that she wouldn’t recognise me,’ Magnus mumbled.
‘I think I can guess,’ Caligula ventured. ‘You’re an ex-boxer judging by the look of you, aren’t you?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘My grandmother is very fond of boxing, so fond in fact that she used to go down to their stables and watch the boxers train.’ Caligula smiled mischievously. ‘Now, I’ve heard that some wealthy widows organise boxing bouts as after-dinner entertainment and then, when the guests have gone, hang on to a boxer or two for some entertainment of another sort. Am I close?’
They could tell by Magnus’ expression that Caligula had hit the mark.
‘No, Magnus, surely not?’ Vespasian gasped in disbelief, equally astonished at Caligula’s candour in discussing his grandmother’s sexual preferences, whilst resisting the temptation to ask Magnus what she was like.
‘Oh, it happens all the time with upper-class ladies,’ Caligula went on cheerily. ‘Boxers, gladiators, charioteers, even actors. Personally I see nothing wrong with it. After all, we all have our needs, even my grandmother, and I’m sure that Magnus was well rewarded for his efforts.’
‘The money was just a bonus,’ Magnus said. ‘She was a very beautiful woman – still is. I can’t claim that it was a hardship. Well, it was, if you take my meaning?’
‘I’m sure I do.’ Caligula smiled at him through the rain. ‘Anyway, we should concentrate on the matter in hand. Extinguish the torches; Livilla’s house is about a quarter of a mile away. The tunnel entrance is in the gardens at the back, so we’ll need to walk around the perimeter walls to find a suitable place to climb over; I think I can remember one.’
They carried on in silence up the hill; the wind had got up and the rain pounded down on them. Caligula stopped when they reached a narrow alley that ran off to the right off the main road between two walls, each about twelve feet high.
‘This is the rear of Livilla’s property, the gardens are over the left-hand wall,’ Caligula whispered. ‘About a hundred paces down the alley there’s an overhanging tree, we can throw a rope over its branches and scale the wall there.’
‘Did you bring rope, Pallas?’ Sabinus asked, worried that the whole venture would come to a grinding halt.
‘It’s all right, sir,’ Pallas reassured him, ‘I have one in my bag; Master Gaius had forewarned me.’
‘Oh, excellent, well done, Caligula,’ Sabinus muttered, hoping that he wasn’t going to be shown up by this pasty-looking youth all night. ‘Magnus, leave two of your men here to secure our getaway: we don’t want to be trapped in this narrow alley.’
‘Right you are, sir. Marius, that had better be you, I imagine that your rope-climbing days are over.’
‘Too right.’ Marius grinned, looking at the stump at the end of his left arm.
‘Sextus, you stay here too; when you see us coming back both of you hide over the other side of the street in the shadows. If the Praetorians are after us you follow behind them so if it comes to a fight you can take them in the rear.’
‘Hide in the shadows, take them in the rear. Right you are, Magnus,’ Sextus repeated, slowly digesting his orders.
‘They could probably do with these.’ Pallas pulled out a couple of swords from his sack.
‘What else have you got in there, Pallas?’ Vespasian asked, looking at the bulging sack.
‘Just stuff that we may need, sir,’ the Greek replied smoothly.
‘Come on, we haven’t got all night.’ Sabinus headed off down the dark alley.
The tree was where Caligula remembered it and in a few short moments they had the rope secured around a branch ready for the ascent.
‘The main house is about two hundred paces away to our right,’ Caligula said, ‘and the tunnel entrance is this side of it by a small round temple dedicated to Minerva.’
‘Right,’ Sabinus said. He was now soaked to the skin, as were all the others. ‘Magnus, leave two more of your lads down here to fight off anyone coming from the other direction, and station one more on top of the wall to get the rope in place to help us back over when we return.’
Magnus gave the orders whilst Pallas dished out three more swords to the men staying behind. Sabinus led the way up the rope to the top of the wall; he peered around but could see nothing on the other side in the pitch-black rain-sodden gardens.
‘Well, here goes,’ he muttered to himself, and leapt down into the dark. He landed with a soft thump in some long grass growing beneath the tree.
‘It’s fine,’ he called up softly to Caligula, who was just appearing at the top of the wall. He jumped down without hesitation. Vespasian, Pallas, Magnus and his last remaining brother, Cassandros, followed quickly.
‘We’re lucky with this weather,’ Caligula whispered. ‘If there are guards at the tunnel’s entrance they’ll be sheltering inside. We can approach from the side and they won’t have a chance of seeing us.’
‘You lead the way, Caligula,’ Sabinus said, ‘then when we’re at the entrance Magnus and I will take the guards out. Hopefully one of them will have the key to the cellar door. If not we’ll have to force it.
‘You might find that this will be of help, sir.’ Pallas pulled out a heavy iron crowbar from his sack.
‘Good. Anything else we may need, Pallas?’
‘Just these, sir,’ he replied, producing six more swords. ‘Better than your short daggers, I’ll warrant.’
‘I was intending to knock them out, not kill them.’
‘It takes quite a hit to fell a Praetorian, sir,’ Magnus pointed out seriously. ‘They don’t go down easy. Better to help them on their way with a decent bit of sharp iron, if you take my meaning?’
Sabinus hadn’t planned on killing anyone but realised that Magnus was right: better to silence them once and for all rather than risk them escaping and raising the alarm.
‘All right, but we go for a quick thrust to the throat, to prevent them shouting out.’
‘I know, sir,’ Magnus replied.
Sabinus looked at him. ‘Yes, I’m sure you do. Well, let’s get on with it. Lead off, Caligula.’
They crept through the shrubs and bushes of the laid-out formal garden, taking care not to step on the gravelled paths and keeping close so that they didn’t lose one another in the dense night and driving rain. After a hundred paces or so a couple of dim points of light appeared through the trees.
‘There, that must be the main house,’ Caligula hissed over the wind. ‘We’ll head towards it; the temple should be on our left quite soon.’
With the lights guiding them progress became easier; soon they were aware of a tiny glimmer as light reflected off water running down a stone wall.
‘Here’s the temple; the tunnel is around the other side about twenty paces away. Follow me.’
Caligula started to lead them around the circular building. Vespasian gripped his sword handle tightly as he followed; he felt his heart accelerating and had to concentrate on breathing slowly. Once around the other side Caligula took Sabinus’ shoulder and pointed. Only a few paces away a faint glow emanated from a low doorway. Sabinus nodded and signalled to Magnus to follow him.
Vespasian held his breath as he watched the barely visible silhouettes of his brother and Magnus creep slowly towards the entrance. Suddenly a loud laugh broke through the steady roar of wind gusting through trees and rain falling on leaves. Sabinus and Magnus stopped. A figure appeared in the doorway, stopped and looked up at the rain-filled sky and then out into the black night. He lifted up his tunic, eased his loincloth to one side and started to piss. It seemed to go on for an age. Sabinus and Magnus stayed stock-still, barely six paces away from the Praetorian. Eventually he finished and headed back inside saying something to his companion as he went. Sabinus and Magnus started to ease forward again. Once they were beside the entrance they stopped and looked at each other, then sprang in. Vespasian surged forward followed by the rest of the party and charged into the tunnel to find Sabinus and Magnus searching the bodies of the two guards who were lying on the floor, blood oozing from gashes in their throats and their dead eyes staring in shock at the ceiling.