Macro shrugged. ‘So Claudius has a few enemies in the Senate. Even I know that’s nothing new, and I couldn’t give a shit about politics. Besides, when did Claudius start giving a toss about a bunch of old farts in togas?’
‘Eloquently put, Macro. However, the Liberators are not to be taken lightly. They’re highly organised, secretive and enjoy a significant level of support among the senators and dissenters opposed to the Emperor. We believe they are planning a fresh conspiracy.’
‘Bloody Greeks,’ the optio grumbled. ‘Have to see a conspiracy in everything.’
Murena did not appear to hear him. He brushed a smudge of dirt off his tunic and said, ‘Claudius is not short of enemies, both here and beyond the frontiers. It’s the nature of the job. But information has come to the attention of the imperial secretary, and as loyal servants of the Emperor, we must act on it.’
‘What sort of information?’
Murena pursed his lips. ‘We fear that the Liberators plan to assassinate the Emperor at the games.’
At first Macro was too stunned to reply. Then he puffed out his cheeks, releasing all the pent-up tension in his muscles. ‘There must be hundreds, if not thousands, of idiots talking about having a pop at Claudius. I’m no expert, but planning to give the Emperor the good news in front of the mob is about the stupidest plan I ever heard.’
‘This plan is no idle threat, Macro.’
‘Really? How do you know? Got some poor sod tied up and being tortured in the Mamertine, have you?’
Murena flashed a dark look at the optio. ‘You’re probably aware that we tried to enlist Pavo to help undermine the Liberators. We made him an offer in Capua. In exchange for bowing before Claudius in a public display of support for the new Emperor, we would spare his son. Pavo, of course, declined. He’s quite the petulant brat, that one. Inherited his father’s anti-authoritarian streak.’
‘Get to your point,’ Macro replied, injustice surging in his chest.
‘After Pavo refused our offer, Pallas and myself had to resort to other means to move against the Liberators. Unfortunately, we can’t detain every senator in Rome and torture the truth out of them, much as we would like to. It would not go down well with the mob. However, Fortuna has blessed us in the shape of a defector from the Liberators’ ranks.’
‘And why would such a man come over to you?’
Murena smiled thinly. ‘We made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. The defector, a trivial local magistrate, told us of the plan to assassinate Claudius at the games.’
‘Sounds unlikely, if you ask me,’ Macro responded tartly.
‘The plan is certainly bold. But considering the success they have had so far in evading capture and undermining the Emperor’s authority, we must presume that the threat is genuine.’
A distant cheer erupted above the infirmary. The ceiling shook, the walls groaning under the sheer mass of humanity bearing down on top of the arena. Murena frowned upwards.
‘This place is falling apart,’ he observed.
‘Build a new one, then,’ Macro responded gruffly.
‘Oh, we shall. Perhaps not for a few years … but in time we’ll build an arena like no other. We’ll hold gladiator spectacles on an unimaginable scale, and our grip over the mob will be complete.’ The aide stopped frowning and looked down at his feet. ‘It’s the most remarkable thing. Pallas and I were quite indifferent to the gladiator games at first. But now we see that they are truly a blessing from Jupiter. We’ll have to host more of them in the future to keep the mob content and, more to the point, on our side.’
‘Can’t wait. Next time you arrange one of these fucking events, leave me out of it.’
The aide lifted his gaze to Macro. A hostile look flared in his eyes. ‘According to the magistrate, the attempt on Claudius’s life will take place tomorrow. And you are going to help us foil the plot.’
‘How?’
‘By stopping the assassin before he can kill the Emperor.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Claudius have bodyguards for that sort of thing?’
Murena made a pained expression. ‘The loyalty of his German knuckle-draggers is not in question. But they’re likely to cut the would-be assassin to pieces, and it is essential that we take him alive. Capturing the traitor is our best chance of uncovering the names of the rest of the Liberators. If we get their names, we put an end to that nest of vipers at one stroke.’
Macro nodded in agreement. The German bodyguards were ferociously loyal to the Emperor and unlikely to show mercy to anyone who dared make an attempt on his life.
‘At any rate, we could do with an extra pair of hands. The Germans sustained a significant number of casualties quashing the mutiny at the ludus in Capua, leaving the unit thinly stretched. There’s also the fact that Claudius can’t be seen to have too many bodyguards around him during the games. We’re striving to portray the Emperor as a strong, fearless leader. It would not look good to have him seen in public hiding behind a mass of Germans.’
‘Obviously,’ Macro replied drily.
Murena cleared his throat. ‘Your orders are to patrol the galleries and observe the spectators. Once the assassin reveals himself, apprehend him and take him to the imperial palace for questioning.’ The aide’s lips curled at the edges as he forced a smile. ‘Then you will be free to go.’
Macro touched the stitches on his thigh. ‘How do you know the attack is taking place tomorrow?’
Murena picked dirt off his shoulder. ‘The magistrate told us.’
‘He could be lying.’
‘Unlikely. The imperial interrogators know what they’re about. If he’s lying, he’ll be for the chop. But he had only limited involvement with the conspiracy. We don’t know who else is involved, or for that matter who intends to strike the blow. And as I said earlier, it’s politically impractical to round up every high-ranking public official and question them.’
‘Why do you need me?’ Macro asked, a deep frown weighing on his grizzled features. ‘Why not use one of those lackeys in the Praetorian Guard?’
It was Murena’s turn to frown now. ‘We suspect that some of the Praetorians are part of the Liberators’ conspiracy,’ he said. He began pacing up and down the room. ‘If you haven’t already noticed, the guards have been relegated to arena duty. They are being kept as far away from the Emperor as possible without arousing suspicion in their ranks.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ Macro remarked in a low voice. ‘Not that they’d be much use in any event. Bunch of overpaid amateurs playing at soldiers.’
Murena appeared not to hear him. ‘This task requires someone with a good eye for danger and whose loyalty to Rome is unswerving. You have both qualities in abundance. The fact that you are a decorated soldier has persuaded Pallas that you are the ideal man for the task.’
Macro shook his head. ‘It’s an impossible job. There are more than twenty thousand spectators in the arena. How the hell am I going to keep an eye on all of them?’
‘You won’t have to,’ Murena responded coolly. ‘Pallas and I have given the matter some thought. We can rule out the assassin coming from the mob.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘He must come from the higher ranks because they are the ones seated closest to the imperial box. It’s plausible that one of the senators might thrust a blade at the Emperor and strike a decisive blow before anyone could intervene. Any attempt on the Emperor’s life from further away is laden with difficulties. One of the guards stationed at the exits would intervene before the killer had a chance to strike.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about the conspiracy earlier?’
‘The magistrate only spoke up this morning.’
Macro took a deep breath and fought a compulsive urge to snap the aide’s neck.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said after a pause. ‘But after this, I’m pissing off back to the Second. No ifs or buts.’