blazing.
“ You did what?”
“ I let him go” repeated Balventius.
Balbus
wandered across and stood next to his primus pilus.
“ He’s got good instincts, Labienus. I might have done the
same.”
“ Oh, very noble” Labienus spat. “All well and good, but Caesar
might not see it that way. He gave us specific
instructions!”
“ If I might interject?” Crispus spoke up from his
seat.
“ What?”
“ The actual instructions Caesar sent were to detain him, which
is exactly how the centurion proceeded; to extract a confession,
which Balventius did; and to do whatever was necessary to get
information. Although it might take a moment for the general to
calm down and accept it, we have, in fact, followed his
instructions precisely.”
Labienus
glared at the young legate.
“ Great. Just wonderful. Alright, Balventius. What are you
proposing?”
The primus
pilus shrugged.
“ This could be turned to the general’s advantage, but someone
will need to persuade him of that. This Clodius, from what I
understand, is trying to undermine Caesar with the
senate?”
“ Yes.”
“ And he believes he has Paetus by the balls.”
“ Yes” replied Labienus again, impatiently.
“ Then he has no reason to doubt anything Paetus tells
him.”
Fronto,
freshly bathed and shaved, gave a brief, thoughtful chuckle.
“ That could work out very nicely for Caesar. He could send all
sorts of misinformation to the man; make him look like an idiot.
The general should see the appeal of that.”
He turned to
Balventius.
“ Has Paetus agreed to this, then? It could put his family in a
lot of danger.”
Balventius
nodded.
“ He hasn’t agreed yet, ‘cause I haven’t asked him yet, sir. But
what choice has he got? He’s pretty much got to agree. We ought to
work out something to make sure his family are safe first, though,
if what I hear about this Clodius is true.”
The room fell
into a thoughtful silence.
After a long
pause, Crispus sat up with a deep frown.
“ I…”
He was
interrupted by a hammering at the door.
Labienus
turned, irritably.
“ Enter!”
The door swung
open to reveal a legionary standing in the doorway at an
approximation of attention, his face a plum colour and sweat
pouring down from his hairline. The man had clearly run fast and
hard.
“ What is it?” Labienus asked the exhausted soldier.
“ Sir…” the man managed, his breathing laboured. “The general is
at the gate…” wheeze… “with his praetorians.” Another ragged
breath. “He’s on his way now, sir.”
Labienus
nodded.
“ Thank you, soldier.”
As the
legionary closed the door and disappeared, the interim commander
pushed his seat back and stood with a sigh.
“ Well, gentlemen. It appears things are about to start
moving.”
The officers
in the room shuffled as they stood, brushing the creases out of
their tunics and cloaks and straightening their belts.
Out in the
corridor, they heard heavy booted footsteps and soldiers crashing
to attention. They stood smartly and waited. Moments later the door
opened and the young moon-face of Aulus Ingenuus, commander of the
general’s guards, appeared with a broad smile. Fronto stared.
Ingenuus was still little more than two years under the eagles, yet
he had, though bravery and a little luck, secured one of the most
prestigious positions in the army. The change in him over a single
winter was noticeable, though. While he still had his air of
youthful innocence, his face had taken on a hard edge, defined
slightly by an unfashionable but neatly-trimmed beard. Moreover, he
had acquired a fine scar that ran down his cheek to his jaw; the
reason, Fronto suspected, for his new beard.
Ingenuus’ grin
widened as he took in the faces round the room. They had no time to
exchange pleasantries, however, as he immediately stepped aside and
jammed his plumed helmet under his arm, to make room for the
general.
Caesar strode
purposefully into the room, waving an arm in a vague