Blood Games (Saint-Germain #3)

Blood Games (Saint-Germain #3) Page 11

IN THE CALDARIUM of the Claudian Baths, the steam rose in clouds through the softly lit room. There was a gentle murmur of conversation from the largest of the pools, where a number of men relaxed in the hot water.

There was another, smaller, shallower pool off to the side, and it was here that Caius Ofonius Tigellinus sat, resting his painful limbs. Standing beside him were two procurators attached to the Praetorian Guard. If the heat made them uncomfortable in their paludamenti, metal loricae and high-laced caligulae, they made no complaint and only their reddened faces revealed their discomfort.

Beside Tigellinus sat Cornelius Justus Silius, the hot water making him sweat as he listened to the Guard's commander speak.

"It is unfortunate about Petronius, for it circumvented justice, but it can't be helped now. There are other problems I must talk to you about, and this is an excellent time, wouldn't you agree?"

Actually, Justus thought that it was unbearable, but he said, "There is a certain privacy here, it's true."

"All Rome takes the baths, and who is to say what is done here? Also, as my physician insists that I bathe in hot water twice a day, I feel I must use my time to advantage." He sighed and moved slightly in the hot water. His skin was noticeably pink even in the muted light of the caldarium.

"Have you noticed any relief?" Justus asked, immediately at his most solicitous.

"At times. At others, nothing seems to help me. Well, the outcome is with Apollo and Jupiter, and there is no sense for me to be worried." His next words were brisker. "You said you had some information to impart to me. What is it?"

Justus looked uneasily at the two Praetorians, and lowered his voice. "I have cause to worry, Commander."

"So have we all." Tigellinus sighed.

"No, truly, Ofonius, this is not of that nature." He leaned forward and the water sloshed around his chest. It was impossible to represent properly the suspicions he had in this setting. He determined to overcome this disadvantage, and tried to overlook the steam, the heat and his undignified position. "I have heard certain things that disquiet me. You know that the equestrian classes are unhappy with the Emperor, and it is inevitable that another conspiracy be directed against him. It will happen. It must. And when it occurs, there will be greater unrest and confusion than already plagues us."

"I'm aware of this," Ofonius Tigellinus said, sounding bored.

"I have twice been approached, in the most circuitous way, by discontented Senators who look only to find the right leader before they rise again in open revolt."

This was rather more interesting. "Go on."

"I have found nothing certain yet, but before I proceed, I want to be sure I am safe from official wrath if I take the time to learn more from these men. I am willing to do everything I can to protect the Emperor, but I must, myself, be protected. Should the men be discovered and my name be among those they mention, then I would find myself in desperate straits. But if you are aware of my intention, and if you can make yourself available to me covertly, I believe that I can do you a great deal of good. I have served that way once already."

"I know that." Tigellinus had the largest network of spies that had ever existed in Rome, and there was almost nothing that escaped the vigilance of his men. Yet one of Justus Silius' rank and station might be very useful. He sighed as he moved. The hot water was not doing much to alleviate his pain today. "Let me consider your offer. No matter what is finally decided, I know I may depend on your loyalty. However, if it appears that you can gain access to the traitors, I will be more than willing to give you full authorization to proceed with your infiltration without the possibility of later recrimination."

"Thank you, Commander," Justus said enthusiastically. "You are helping me tremendously. To have the privilege of aiding the Emperor, no matter how menial that service is, must be the greatest honor to any true Roman."

This effusive remark disgusted Tigellinus. The more he had to deal with Cornelius Justus Silius, the less he liked or trusted him, but he could not afford to lose so useful a tool, so he kept his face set in severe lines and said, "The virtues, as ever, are in short supply."

Justus was not fooled by Tigellinus, and it angered him. It was demeaning to have to court this Sicilian who had been a fisherman in Greece and a farmer in Italy, and had risen to power because of his luck in breeding racehorses. "If I learn anything, you will know of it. But," he could not resist the temptation to add with ill-concealed malice, "those who stand revealed may be more than you bargained for. Roman nobility has enjoyed its intrigues for as long as there have been buildings on the Palatine Hill."

"It does no one credit to be part of illicit dealings." He no longer wanted to deal with Justus, and would have ordered him to leave. On the chance that Justus might know something else of worth, Tigellinus decided to ask a few more questions. "Your wife is a Clemens, is she not?"

"Atta Olivia, yes. It is sad to see so great a house fallen on such difficult times. Maximus Tarquinus Clemens, my honored father-in-law, has allowed me to give him certain...assistances on behalf of his family." Justus could never speak of that without gloating.

Tigellinus nodded. So the speculation about the nature of Justus' marriage was not inaccurate. The girl had been sold for the sake of restoring the family fortunes. As he looked through the steam at Justus, Tigellinus thought that there were few men he would like less to be indebted to. "I am certain he is grateful," he said, knowing that Justus was the sort who would use his power over his wife's family mercilessly.

There was one other barb that Justus wanted to plant before he left the wretchedly hot room for the frigidarium, where he could relax in the cool water and ogle the young women who waited in the tepidarium for men to spend a few hours alone with them. "There is something worrying me, Commander," he said slowly.

"What?" The question was short.

"That foreigner, the one who brought Petronius' will to Rome. I fear that he may be more dangerous than has been realized." He forced himself to speak thoughtfully as he relished the revenge he would have on Olivia. "He is quite rich, and lives very much apart from Roman society."

"Not quite apart. Petronius liked him well enough, and the Emperor himself has shown Franciscus favor." Tigellinus had no intention of embroiling himself in Justus' private feuds. "He owns no gladiators, only bestiarii and charioteers, which is hardly the way of a politically ambitious man. His stables house less than four hundred horses, so you can't say that he takes that enterprise too seriously. In his will, Petronius said that Saint-Germain was amusing himself in Rome, liking our society for its venality, and that it was his interest in music that made him a worthwhile companion, nothing more." That ought to be sufficient, Tigellinus thought, wondering what it was that the foreigner had done to earn Justus' enmity.

"A very useful deception," Justus said, feeling annoyed by Tigellinus' indifference. "Petronius himself had such a pose, and you know what it masked." Too late, Justus remembered that it was Tigellinus who had manufactured the evidence that had condemned Titus Petronius Niger.

"Yes," Tigellinus said, sounding very bored, "I know precisely what it masked."

Justus was determined to salvage his argument. "Perhaps that was not as it appeared, but I tell you, the man Franciscus is more sinister than you think. He goes everywhere, has access to the highest ranks in the empire, and is welcomed by almost everyone." For an instant the memory of his wife in Saint-Germain's arms, languid with desire, rose in his mind. "He is insufferably arrogant! He mocks us all! When you finally recognize the danger he represents, it will be too late. I warn you."

"It would do no harm to keep watch on his movements," Tigellinus said reflectively. "His villa is beyond the Praetorian camp, as I recall. It should not be too difficult to have the Watch at the Viminalis and Collina Gates keep note of his coming and going."

"And why there only? Why not the Capena and Salutaris as well?" Inadvertently he struck the water with his clenched hand. The sound was pleasant, and reduced the force of Justus' demands to childish petulance.

"There are seventeen gates of various sizes in the walls, Senator, and that does not include the bridges. The Watch can be better employed in guarding the city than they can be in searching for one foreigner. Those who keep guard at the Gates he is likely to use will know him in any case." He sank farther back into the water so that just his head and neck were above the surface. "I cannot help but think that you are too zealous, Senator. If there were few foreigners in Rome, or if Franciscus had demonstrated his intent to harm the citizens or the state, it might be different. But Rome is a city of foreigners now, and we have learned to tolerate them. It is true that this one has known unlucky men, but which of us has not?"

Justus ground his teeth with vexation. "I had thought to make an unsuspected danger known to you, but I see I need not have bothered." He got to his feet, the water falling from him. It was good to be out of the bath, and away from this Praetorian commander, who was little more than a peasant. He stepped out of the pool and glared at the two procurators. Judging by the watch they kept over their commander, Justus scoffed, one would think that he was suspect. He kept his contempt to himself, saying, "I hope that your health improves, Ofonius," before he sought the frigidarium.

When he was certain that Justus was gone, Tigellinus motioned to the nearer of the two procurators. "Antoninus," he said, "what do you know of Cornelius Justus Silius?"

The procurator thought before he answered. "He's got a reputation for craftiness. He has never been accused of a crime, he has not been part of any conspiracy. His cousin was the lover of-"

Tigellinus sighed impatiently. "Yes, Valeria Messalina, Claudius' wife. That's ancient history. Is there anything recent?"

Antoninus pursed his lips. "His wife is reputed to sleep with gladiators. Silius does not seem to mind. He was one of the men Claudius most disliked and he went into unofficial exile for a time. That might have been because of his cousin."

"And it might have been a whim of Claudius'." Tigellinus sighed. He had learned long ago to pay attention to his hunches, and he had one now about Cornelius Justus Silius, but no matter where he looked he could find nothing to support his misgivings. Musing aloud, he said, "Those who have been out of favor rarely forget it. That may account for his officious interests."

The procurator said nothing.

"This other man, the foreigner. What do you know about him?" Tigellinus turned slowly in the shallow pool, searching for a more comfortable position.

"He raises horses and mules. The horses are bred for the arena, most of the time, though apparently he has some larger animals for battle and long marches. The army buys most of the mules, and there have been no complaints. His villa is an odd design with two atria instead of one. The larger is at one end of a long colonnaded portico, and is more on the Greek style, with a garden and a dining chamber that opens onto it. The other is smaller, and only Saint-Germain himself and his body slave, who is an Egyptian, are allowed to enter it." Antoninus hesitated. "We might be able to bribe one of the slaves. It is said that one of his bestiarii goes to his bed."

"A man?" Tigellinus had not heard that the foreigner was so inclined, not even from his spies who had been in Petronius' household and had had ample opportunity to observe such things.

"That Armenian woman with the specially trained team. You've seen her." Antoninus smiled a moment, then once again was serious. "She has been at his disposal since he bought her. We might be able to approach her. Enough money to buy her freedom would be more inviting than her master's cock, I should think."

Tigellinus nodded deliberately. "It must be done carefully. We don't want the man alerted, or it could become unpleasant for us. Choose one of the spies who is not associated with the Guard in any way, an Armenian, if possible. Pay her in halves, or there may be nothing to show for it." Although he had no sense of danger from the odd black-clad foreigner, Tigellinus had learned to be cautious.

"Is the need urgent?" Antoninus asked. It was his job to see that the commander's orders were carried out in the proper sequence. If this were high priority, it would be difficult.

"No, I don't think so. Let's call it being careful. Have his comings and goings through the gates watched and make note if any of the very suspect men seek his company. He's sufficiently conspicuous that there should be no trouble observing him. His clothes are foreign, his manner is quite compelling, and he's fairly tall. Not the sort of man you can lose in a crowd. Be a little circumspect, and if the opportunity presents itself, suborn the woman." He thought of the documents waiting for him on his desk that Antoninus had brought him earlier that day. They needed his attention, and he would not trust Nymphidius Sabinus to handle the matters. It was time to leave the pool of hot water. As he got laboriously to his feet, he reflected that the shallow caldarium was rapidly becoming his only pleasure. He looked through the steam to the other caldaria and wondered if it was true for any of the other men there. As he drew a drying sheet around his shoulders, he considered his other pleasure-the exercise of power. He straightened himself and spoke briskly. "Bring my chariot, Antoninus. I will be ready to leave shortly."

Antoninus nodded, gave a quick salute and went quickly out of the large, steamy room.

Tigellinus addressed the remaining Praetorian procurator. "I want Antoninus watched. Find someone who will give him a slave, and make sure the slave stays close to him."

"But Antoninus-" his fellow protested, making no attempt to conceal his shock.

"Antoninus has been sending messages to Gaius Julius Vindex in Lugdunum. One was intercepted a few days ago. If I revealed its contents to the Emperor or the Senate, Antoninus would have his last kiss from the plumbatae. He is playing a very dangerous game." He was almost dry now and he reached for his rust-red Praetorian tunica, which he wore in preference to a toga.

"It's a mistake," the procurator blurted out.

"Lucius Antoninus Sulper is committing treason, Fulvius, and there is a price he must pay for it. He and his companions will forfeit their lives for this foolishness." Tigellinus closed his hand over his beautiful gold-plated lorica. "I want to catch them all, stamp out the plot entirely, eradicate the villainy so that no portion of it will survive to flower again." He stood while Fulvius helped him buckle on his lorica. "The caracalla," he said, holding out his hand for the red soldier's cape. Finally he sat down on one of the benches along the wall to pull on his caligulae. He took up his scabbard and began to buckle it on as he walked. Even the Praetorians were allowed to carry nothing more formidable than a short sword inside the walls of Rome, and although Tigellinus knew that the edict was wise, he missed the long blade of Damascus steel that hung in his quarters at the Praetorian camp.

In the tepidarium, six young men were being instructed in wrestling by a freedman of very mixed parentage. Tigellinus might have stopped to watch if he had had more time and fewer urgent matters pressing him. He passed through the tepidarium and out into the street. By the time he stepped into his chariot, he had consigned his talk with Justus to insignificance as he wondered what to do about the procurator who held the reins for him.

TEXT OF A LETTER FROM MAXIMUS TARQUINUS CLEMTS TO HIS OLDEST SON, PONTIUS VIRGINIUS CLEMENS, LOST IN TRANSIT WHEN THE SHIP CARRYING MAIL TO NARBO WNET DOWN N A SQUALL OFF SARDINIA.

To my beloved son and the hope of my family, Pontius Virginius, greetings:

I am loath to write to you, my son, for there is nothing I can say to you that will be welcome to you, I fear. Yet I have obligations to you and to our house and it is my hope that the Lares need not suffer any more disgrace from me and mine.

I have heard through various of our family that you have been active in the cause of Gaius Julius Vindex. While he is a fine military leader, what you propose is not a matter that honorable men should undertake, particularly when the position of this family is so precarious.

Your objections to the Emperor are not unjust, but I must remind you that he does rule us, and that to rise against him is a grave and terrible crime. We are no longer powerful. I have put us into the debt of Cornelius Justus Silius, which though necessary, was and is most unpleasant, but you propose to add dishonor to our name which is already tarnished. I have heard the arguments your group has used, and if they come to light, the entire family will be disgraced. Silius has intimated that should your part in this conspiracy be known, all of us would be exiled. I have done enough damage to this family without this addition from you. Let me beseech you to draw back from your involvement. If you cannot honor my request as a son would honor a father, then consider the plight of your brothers, your mother, even your sisters, who might also pay for your behavior. Silius has said he does not know if he could give Olivia his protection if we were exiled. Consider what Olivia has done for us already, and do not impose this additional burden on her.

Should you persist on this dangerous enterprise, I would have no choice but to disown you, which I do not wish to do. You are my favorite child, although I should not admit it. I love you with all the fervor that parent has ever loved child. It would pain me mortally to deprive myself of you forever, but I must protect your brothers, your sisters and your mother. Do not force so terrible an act upon me, Virginius.

On the nineteenth day of May in the 818th Year of the City, this from my own hand.

Maximus Tarquinus Clemens