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‘Fifty-one aurei – that’s very generous.’
‘Not really; it just puts you back into my debt, which is where I like you to be.’ Vespasian turned away. ‘Come on, let’s get back to Rome – if there’s any of it still left standing, that is.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’ Magnus asked, feeling the comforting weight of the purse in his hand.
‘I mean that I heard that a chunk of the Viminal burnt down last night. Oddly enough it was the same building that the Urban Cohorts raided the day before.’
‘Ah, yes. Well, it’s amazing just how viciously a Scorpion can burn.’
‘I hope that I never have the opportunity to find out, and so does the Urban Prefect, if you take my meaning?’
‘I do, sir; and I can promise you that no one will ever get one into the city again and life will go back to how it was.’
‘Good. Make sure that everyone understands that.’
‘Oh, he will, sir, he will.’
‘Tatianus, what a lovely surprise,’ Magnus said in a voice that conveyed the exact opposite; he did not get up as the middleman was shown into his room at the rear of the tavern by Marius. Servius sat next to him. ‘This must be a social visit as I know you never discuss business outside your establishment.’
‘In normal circumstances that would be the case,’ Tatianus said as he sat opposite Magnus and placed a strongbox on the table between them.
‘But not today; why’s that?’
Tatianus bared his teeth in a snarl. ‘You know perfectly well why that is, Magnus, so let’s stop the play acting and get down to business: you said that you have the power to keep my name in or out of this Scorpion and the River-god’s fire affair. Well?’
Magnus leant forward and rested his elbows on the table, pressing the tips of his steepled fingers to his lips. ‘Hmmm. Tricky. After all, you did swindle me.’
‘No I didn’t; I just used my normal business practice and you well know it.’
‘Well, Tatianus, I’ll tell you what I know: the Urban Cohorts did raid Sempronius’ place yesterday and they did take away a Scorpion as well as Sempronius himself. The Urban Prefect knows all about your business but turns a blind eye because he can control it much better if he knows how and when items arrive in the city. However, a Scorpion was a step too far and he’s a bit cross, to say the least, and if I was to give the jar of the River-god’s fire to my patron to pass onto him then your days would be up, if you take my meaning?’
‘I do. So what do you propose?’
‘I propose that you give me back the deposit that you cheated me out of and in return I’ll give you back the jar. And then, secondly, I’ve been asked to convey this message: you undertake never to bring in anything more dangerous than swords, slings, bows and those sorts of things, and then the Urban Prefect will be very happy and let you carry on in business.’
‘That’s easy enough.’
‘There is one exception, though.’
Tatianus eyed Magnus across the table. ‘And that is you, I suppose.’
‘Indeed, Tatianus. You will bring me anything I ask for – except for a Scorpion of course – because I’ll be able to get it into the city without the authorities finding out.’
‘And how’s that?’
‘That’s what tame senators are for.’
Tatianus looked down at his strongbox and then pushed it across the table to Magnus. ‘You have a deal. One thousand denarii paid in gold.’
Magnus opened the lid and counted the coinage. ‘Fifty aurei, very nice, Tatianus. Servius, give the gentleman his jar back.’
Servius leant down and produced the jar from under the table; Tatianus took it greedily and then pulled the top off. ‘It’s empty!’ His eyes squinted accusingly.
Magnus shrugged and leant back in his chair. ‘Of course it is. The deal was for me to give you back the jar; I made no promise as to whether or not the contents would still be in it, did I? It’s just such a pity for you that you took it for granted that it would be. Sempronius has that, or at least, he had it smeared over his roof beams until someone carelessly dropped a flaming rag on them. Now he’s just got a gutted shell of a building which is going to cost him a lot more than the thousand denarii he stole from me if the Urban Prefect ever lets him go.’
‘You fire-raising bastard!’
Magnus’ smile got nowhere near his eyes. ‘I may well have kept enough of the River-god’s fire to prove that statement right on your house, Tatianus. As you said, I am known for my arsonistic tendencies. You can go.’
Tatianus picked up the jar and hurled it across the room to shatter on the far wall. Without a word he turned and stalked out.
‘I’ll call for you when I need you,’ Magnus shouted after him. ‘I much prefer doing business here, on my terms.’ Magnus grunted with satisfaction as he listened to Tatianus stomp down the corridor. He tipped the fifty aurei onto the table and then looked at Servius. ‘Fifty aurei from him and fifty-one from Philo; it would seem, brother, that we’re one aureus up on the deal.’
‘I’ll record that in my ledgers.’
‘You do that, brother; and meanwhile I’ll try and work out another way of getting into Tatianus’ strongroom without using a Scorpion.’
DON’T MISS VESPASIAN’S NEXT MISSION…
AD 58: Nero’s extravagance has reached new heights, triggering a growing financial crisis in Britannia. Vespasian is sent to Londinium to intervene, only to become embroiled in a deadly rebellion, one that threatens to destroy Britannia and destabilise the empire…
Also by Robert Fabbri
THE VESPASIAN SERIES
TRIBUNE OF ROME
ROME’S EXECUTIONER
FALSE GOD OF ROME
ROME’S FALLEN EAGLE
MASTERS OF ROME
ROME’S LOST SON
COMING SOON
THE FURIES OF ROME
SHORT STORIES
THE CROSSROADS BROTHERHOOD
THE RACING FACTIONS
THE DREAMS OF MORPHEUS
First published in paperback in Great Britain in 2015 by Corvus, an imprint of Atlantic Books Ltd.
Copyright © Robert Fabbri, 2015
The moral right of Robert Fabbri to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities, is entirely coincidental.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
E-book ISBN: 978 1 78239 744 1
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