Moments later, the pair arrived at the rear of the praetorium and Phaestor nodded once at him, sparing an uncertain glance for the huge black canine at his ankle, and veered off to the right, heading for the main bulk of the palace. Rufinus skirted the Praetorian quarters, Acheron close at heel, passing the room where his gear remained, and made for the doorway into Pompeianus’ stadium-shaped garden.
Still seething angrily and wearing a thunderous look, he rapped on the door and, as the servant opened it, pointed down at the large dog.
‘I know you’re trained for humans and not animal treatment, but it’s a sword wound and I know you can deal with that. I’ll pay you in good coin to treat him.’
The servant frowned and looked down at the animal, his eyes widening. ‘That’s master Dis’ dog.’
‘Not anymore’ Rufinus replied in a matter-of-fact voice that brooked no argument. ‘You can treat him, yes?’
The servant shied away against the wall. ‘Only if he lets me near him. That dog attacks people a little too freely.’
Rufinus shook his head. ‘He’ll be gentle as a puppy. But just in case, you might want to feed him some of your knock-out stuff.’
The servant licked his lips nervously. ‘I’ll… err… come in and take him into the big room out back and right. I’ll get my bag.’ As Rufinus padded into the corridor, walking the dog through the atrium and to the room indicated, the servant scurried off. Acheron crossed to the centre of the wide, marble floor and stood, looking forlorn, unable to lie down comfortably.
‘You’ll be alright boy. The man’s a medicus. Then we’re going to have to decide what to do with you. You certainly can’t stay in the room with me and Glaucus.
‘Perhaps he’ll stay here?’ a voice called quietly from behind.
Turning, Rufinus smiled at the former general, feeling some of the tension slip away from him merely at the man’s presence. ‘Not sure he’ll do that, but it might be worth a try.’
Pompeianus strode into the room and took a seat a safe distance from the large black dog. ‘What’s happened? Why is he not with his master?’
Rufinus let out a long, slow breath. ‘I’m not sure where to start.’
‘At the beginning,’ the Syrian suggested, ‘but as succinctly as possible’ he added with a smile. ‘Salient points only.’
Rufinus nodded and collapsed into a seat next to Acheron, who watched Pompeianus with glowering, dangerous eyes. The medicus shuffled into the room with his bag and approached the dog gingerly. Rufinus raised his eyebrows.
‘You can speak freely in front of him, young man.’
As the servant began to mix a draught of pain-killing drugs for the dog, Rufinus stroked its head soothingly. ‘I did as we discussed and sold out Fastus.’
Pompeianus nodded. ‘I’ve heard about the man and his unexpected peaceful demise. Lucky devil, I’d say.’
Rufinus pursed his lips. ‘Nothing lucky about it. Fastus was certainly undercover here in the villa, but he was working for the Frumentarii.’
The general’s eyes jerked sharply upwards. ‘Go on.’
‘Dis, of course. He took a bit of an exception to my interference with his courier, so he sent me back to Rome. Problem is: while he was in the villa trying to identify possible traitors flocking to your wife, Perennis and Paternus are both convinced of a plot brewing, so they sent me straight back.’
‘And Dis?’
Rufinus took a deep, angry breath. ‘Paternus sent a cavalry detachment out and removed him from the picture, leaving evidence of his imperial connections. The damn prefect is losing his mind, murdering the emperor’s own men.’
Pompeianus nodded. ‘You will now understand, perhaps, why I have not been too pro-active on behalf of Perennis. I’m not comfortable being a piece in the game, regardless of the player. In a way, he’s done you a favour though, as you’ll be almost untouchable now, trustworthy to the hilt as far as Phaestor’s concerned. Make the most of it while your freedom lasts. Given this turn of events, security on the villa will now clamp shut like the jaws on your canine friend there.’
Rufinus felt the dog flinch beneath his fingers as the servant cleaned the wound. He resumed his soothing strokes.
‘What will they do, d’you think?’
‘Phaestor will seek permission to double the guard numbers. The empress will refuse the financial outlay and, after a brief argument, they’ll compromise on the hiring of a dozen new guards and increased shifts.’
He leaned forward. ‘Phaestor will also want to interview all existing guards and servants to convince himself of their loyalty. I suspect the number of guards with duties in the core of the villa will drop sharply, while the perimeter will be almost permanently under observation. Chances are that you’ll be on the inside, and despite your misgivings, you might want to thank Paternus for that.’
Rufinus sighed and leaned over to comfort Acheron as he shuddered once again at the medicus nervously beginning to stitch the wound. ‘What of Saoterus? He’s still here, I presume?’
‘Yes, and with the patience of a vestal, it appears. My beloved wife has not yet granted him an audience. Two days of sitting around in almost total seclusion in the water villa. I know how he feels.’ Pompeianus gave a small smile. ‘I think that after the coming shake-up, she’ll want to see him and get him out of the way as fast as possible.’
Rufinus nodded and clutched Acheron tightly as the medicus tugged sharply on the last stitch. ‘It seems Paternus has his eye on those who surround the emperor, including master Saoterus. I fear that he is in no less danger back in the palace than he is here. After all, if the prefect will set his men on murdering the emperor’s agents, a mere freedman would make an easy target. Perhaps you could speak to him?’
Pompeianus shook his head gently. ‘Two men both in virtual solitary confinement within the same prison have little chance of meeting.’
The pair fell silent, a quiet broken suddenly as Acheron yelped in pain and issued a low growl at the man padding and binding his back end.
The servant leaned back and held up both hands.
‘There, we’re done.’
XIX – Resolution
AS the morning sunlight burned away the last of the white frost, Rufinus strode across the triangular court and to the office of Vettius. Somehow, the events of the morning had eased his return, not because of the lack of Dis as an obstacle, but because of the change in his attitude it had wrought. Walking along that access drive this morning, he had been cold, tired and sore from his wounds, unsure as to his future, his nerves making him shiver uncontrollably.
Such problems were gone. His fear had been pushed down, buried and squashed by anger; anger aimed at all those who would play games with peoples’ lives. It was becoming more apparent the longer he served in the guard, that there were precious few people with even a hint of power who were deserving of trust and respect.
Pompeianus, for all his self-depreciating statements, was one such. Saoterus may be another, though that remained to be seen. The emperor himself, of course. But Paternus and Perennis were busy jostling for position at the expense of their sworn duty, and every politician in Rome and even the emperor’s family seemed to be at it.
Not Rufinus. He was here to uncover information that could save the emperor’s life and that was what he would do. Anger and determination had become the cage for fear and weaknesses. With a brief knock, he opened the major domo’s door and walked in, closing it with his good arm.
The villa’s chief servant looked up in surprise, the flash of anger at being interrupted so rudely shoved from his face by a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.
‘Marcius? But Dis said you’d be in Rome for an indefinite time… and your arm?’ He pointed wordlessly at the sling and the bound fingers.
Rufinus strode across the room and dropped into the seat. ‘You’d do well, master Vettius, to forget what Dis said. Captain Phaestor will be coming to see you shortly and he’ll no doubt explain it all. I suspect he’s with the Empress already. Suffice it to say I’m back and ready for duty. Do you still need me?’