The Eagles Prophecy

While he waited for the barman to return, Cato let go of Laecus and the gangmaster slid back into his stupor, mumbling incoherently as the centurion wrinkled his nose. The barman emerged from the back room and crossed over to Cato with a pitcher and two cups. He set them down on the table beside Laecus.

'Shall I pour, sir?'

'Yes, all of it.'

The barman glanced at the cups and frowned.

'Not in the cups, you bloody fool! On him! Empty all of it on him.'

The barman slowly grinned. 'Oh! I get it.'

He gripped the jug carefully, took aim and upended it, releasing a torrent over the gangmaster's head. As soon as the pitcher was empty the barman backed away, hurrying out of range. Laecus jerked up, spluttering in confusion and anger.

'What the fuck…?' His eyes glanced round and fixed on Cato. 'Here! What are you-'

'Quiet!' Cato snapped. 'Just sit still and answer my questions.'

'Sit still?' He laughed. 'No. I'm going to take your head off, you little gobshite!'

Laecus lurched round, sweeping a huge arm across the top of the table and sending the cups flying across the room and to shatter against the wall. But before he could rise from the bench Cato had stepped back and, with a weary sigh of resignation, drew his sword again.

'Easy, there! Sit down.'

Laecus paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as he took in the sword and then the young man standing behind the blade. With the water dripping from the straggling locks plastered on to his scalp, Laecus swiftly sobered up enough to know he was at a disadvantage. He dropped back on to the bench and leaned away from Cato, resting his back against the cracked plaster on the wall.

'All right,' Cato nodded.'Now that I have your attention, I need to ask you some questions. Does the name Anobarbus mean anything to you?'

'Anobarbus?' The gangmaster raised a fist and rubbed his chin as he considered the question. 'Never heard of him.'

'Try harder,' Cato growled. 'An older bloke. Bit thin. Trades in art and sculpture.'

'I might know him,' Laecus said slowly. 'What's in it for me?'

'Not being held for questioning down at the navy base.' Cato gave him a thin smile. 'It'd be better for you to freely answer my questions here, rather than let my men knock the answers out of you. Now then, do you know of this man?'

'All right. Let me think… This Anobarbus, arrived in the port a few days back?'

'Sounds like the man I'm looking for. Done any work for him?'

'No.'

'You know anyone who has?'

'No.'

'Laecus, you're going to have to do better than this if you don't want a few painful hours alone with my men. Do I make myself clear?' Cato stared into his eyes, and the other man glanced down.

'Clear enough, sir. Yes, I know him. It's my business to know him and any other traders and merchants who pass through the port. Soon as I heard there was a new man in Ravenna I went to see him.'

A sudden thought struck Cato. When the merchant had entered the port he had been part of a military convoy and had not paid the toll, or had to register his name and business. 'How did you hear about him?'

'Easy enough. Anobarbus has been in and out of town on business a few times since he first arrived. I have a boy who waits by the town gate. He makes enquiries about any visitor who might be of interest to me. Usual details: name, trade and lodgings.'

'I see.'

'Anyway, Anobarbus seemed like a good prospect, so I went and visited the address my boy gave me for his lodgings.'

'What do you know of Anobarbus' business?'

Laecus shrugged and rubbed his bleary eyes. 'Not sure, exactly. He claims to deal in statues, urns, pots, furniture. Good-quality stuff. So he said.'

'You've seen any of this merchandise?'

'A few pieces. He rented space in my cousin's warehouse to store the stuff. Local purchases from local towns. Nothing spectacular, you understand.' Laecus flashed a grin. 'This is the arse-end of Italy. Too far away and too dull for the taste of your millionaires back in Rome. Antiques are different. Their agents have been out here for years scouring the place for old bits and bobs. They've pretty much cleared the area out and have moved on to Greece and Asia looking for stuff to ship back to their clients.'

Cato scratched his chin. 'So why's Anobarbus still here?'

Laecus looked at him in surprise. 'Same reason every other merchant is laid up in town. Them pirates. As it happens he's waiting for his ship to come in, loaded with statues from Greece.'

'This ship have a name?'

Laecus nodded. 'The Priapus. Tough old bird. Slow but sturdy.'

'You know her?'

'Yes. The captain's a cousin of mine. She was expected to return a month ago.'

'Think the pirates might have taken her?'

'Maybe. But Cassius is a safe enough pair of hands. If I know him, he's holed up in a port and drinking himself stupid while the weather improves and hoping that you lot get your arses together and sort them pirates out.'

Cato's expression stiffened at the jibe. Then he nodded at the empty wine jug on the far side of the table. 'I see. You and your family drink while my men die. That's how it is, eh?'

Laecus looked at him, warily noting the cold expression in Cato's eyes. 'No disrespect, sir, but that's what you get paid for.'

That was true enough, Cato reflected, and the man was within his rights to imply that the fleet was falling down on the job. He shrugged the thought aside and refocused. So Anobarbus had some proof that he was what he had claimed to be. Still, it might be a useful cover for a man who was in the area on another purpose. Cato looked up at the gangmaster.

'As far as you know, has Anobarbus visited Ravenna before?'

'Maybe.' Laecus ran a hand through his cropped hair. 'I wouldn't know. We get so many people passing through.'

'Do you know where he's staying?'

Laecus nodded. 'Nice digs, he's got himself. House guest of Rufius Pollo, one of the council members.'

'I know him,' Cato smiled thinly. 'We met earlier. Seems that our friend Anobarbus has some useful local connections. Where does this Rufius Pollo live?'

Laecus waved a hand vaguely.'Over by the pump house.'

'Right. You can take me there. Up you get.'

Laecus turned his eyes to Cato and shook his head. 'Not till I'm done with my drinking.'

Cato nodded at the empty wine jug. 'You've done with that, already. Come on. Up!'

Laecus didn't move. He stared back at Cato for a moment, then sniffed.'All right. What's it worth?'

'Another jug, and the satisfaction of knowing that you have provided loyal service to the Emperor,' Cato smiled, then jerked his thumb towards the door. 'Let's go.'

It was close to midnight when they reached the council leader's house. The town had quietened down and they had met only a handful of people hurrying through the dark maze of Ravenna's streets. By the time they reached the more affluent quarter centred on the pump house where the water pressure was high enough to run fountains, the narrow passages had opened out into wider thoroughfares. Almost at once the two men bumped into a patrol of the watch, but once Cato revealed his identity and rank, the watch let them pass and tramped on down the middle of the street, hobnails echoing off the high walls and giving ample warning to any criminals in their path to make a run for it.

The house of Rufius Pollo had the usual understated exterior of an affluent Roman townhouse. Blank plastered walls stretched out each side of a heavily studded wood door. The faint sound of voices drifted over the wall, and just audible between the muffled chatter and trills of laughter, the gentle notes of a flute.

'There you go.' Laecus muttered. 'Now let's have the money. Price of a jar of wine, you said.' He did a quick calculation, then doubled the result and held out a hand.'Six sestertians should do.'

Cato brushed the hand to one side.'Not until after we've finished our business.'