He reached for the first volume of Thucydides, and sat for a time reading and rereading its opening few sentences.
A knock at his door, then. He had been waiting for it.
“Come in,” he said. “I doubt that it’s locked.”
A tall, gaunt figure entered, a man wearing a hooded black cape that left his face exposed. He had cold close-set eyes, a taut fleshless face, rough skin, thin tight-clamped lips.
“I know you,” said Apollinaris calmly, though he had never seen the man in his life.
“Yes, I believe you do,” the other said, showing him the knife as he came toward him. “You know me very well. And I think you’ve been expecting me.”
“So I have,” said Apollinaris.
It was the first day of the new month, when the Prefect of the Fiscus Imperialis and the Prefect of the Fiscus Publicus traditionally lunched together to discuss matters that pertained to the workings of the two treasuries. Even now, many weeks along in the reign of the new Emperor, the Emperor’s private purse, the Fiscus Imperialis, was still under the charge of Quintus Cestius, and the other fund, the Fiscus Publicus, was, as it had been for years, administered by Sulpicius Silanus. They had weathered all the storms. They were men who knew the art of surviving.
“So Count Valerian Apollinaris has perished,” Cestius said. “A pity, that. He was a very great man.”
“Too great, I think, to be able to keep out of harm’s way indefinitely. Such men inevitably are brought down. A pity, I agree. He was a true Roman of the old sort. Men like that are very scarce in these dreadful times.”
“But at least peace is restored. The Empire is whole again, thanks be to Count Apollinaris, and to our beloved Emperor Laureolus.”
“Yes. But is it secure, though? Have any of the real problems been addressed?” Silanus, that sly little man of hearty appetite and exuberant spirit, cut himself another slab of meat and said, “I offer you a prediction, Cestius. It will all fall apart again within a hundred years.”
“You are too optimistic by half, at least,” said Quintus Cestius, reaching for the wine, though he rarely drank.
“Yes,” said Silanus. “Yes, I am.”