Two weeks after leaving port, they were taken out of the cell in darkness and left on a strange coast, without weapons or supplies. The captain had bowed to them as they were taken to the small boat that would be rowed in to the beach beyond, where they could hear the crash of waves.
‘Goodbye, Romans. I will think of you often as I spend your coin,’ he had called, laughing. They stayed silent, though Julius looked up at him steadily, as if noting every line of his face. He was furious that Cabera had not been allowed to leave with them, though he had known they might hold him. It was just one more reason to find the captain and rip his throat out.
On the beach, their bonds were cut and the sailors backed away carefully, daggers ready.
‘Don’t do anything stupid, now,’ one of them warned. ‘You can work your way home in time.’ Then they were in the boat and rowing hard for the trireme that was black against the moonlit sea.
Pelitas reached down and picked up a handful of the soft sand, rubbing it between his fingers.
‘I don’t know about you lads, but I’m going for a swim,’ he said, stripping off his infested clothes in a sudden rush. A minute later, only Suetonius stood on the shore, then he was dragged in by the shouting, laughing officers, clothes and all.
Brutus used his dagger to skin the hares they’d bought from a farmer, scooping out the guts into a slimy heap. Renius had found some wild onions and with the crusty bread and a half-full wineskin, it would be a suitable feast for their last night in the open. Rome was less than a day’s travel away and with the sale of the horses, they were in profit.
Renius dropped a few heavy pieces of dead wood by the fire and lay down as close as he could, enjoying the warmth.
‘Pass me the wineskin, lad,’ he said, his voice mellow.
Brutus pulled the stopper out and gave it to him, watching as Renius guided the spout to his mouth and gulped.
‘I’d go easy if I were you,’ Brutus said. ‘You have no head for wine and I don’t want you picking a fight with me or weeping or something.’
Renius ignored him, finally gasping as he lowered the skin.
‘It’s good to be home again,’ he said.
Brutus filled their small cooking pot to the brim and lay down on the other side of the fire.
‘It is. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed it before the lookout sighted the coast. It brought everything back to me.’
Shaking his head in memory, he stirred the stew with his dagger. Renius raised his head and rested it on his hand.
‘You’ve come a long way from the boy I trained. I don’t think I ever told you how proud I was when you made centurion for the Bronze Fist.’
‘You told everyone else. It got back to me in the end,’ Brutus replied, smiling.
‘And now you’ll be Julius’ man?’ Renius said, eyeing the bubbling stew.
‘Why not? We walk the same path, remember? Cabera said that.’
‘He said the same to me,’ Renius muttered, testing the stew with a finger. Though it was clearly boiling, he didn’t seem to feel the heat.
‘I thought that was why you came back with me. You could have stayed on with the Fist if you’d wanted.’
Renius shrugged. ‘I wanted to be at the heart of things again.’
Brutus grinned at the big man. ‘I know. Now Sulla’s dead, this is our time.’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ Fercus said. He strained against the ropes that held him to the chair, but there was no give in them.
‘I think you know exactly what I mean,’ Antonidus said, leaning in very close so that their faces almost touched. ‘I have a gift for knowing a lie when I am told one.’ He sniffed twice suddenly and Fercus remembered how they called him Sulla’s dog.
‘You reek of lies,’ Antonidus said, sneering. ‘I know you were involved, so simply tell me and I will not have to bring in the torturers. There is no escape from here, broker. No one saw you arrested and no one will know we have spoken. Just tell me who ordered the assassination and where the killer is and you will walk out unharmed.’
‘Take me to a court of law. I will find representation to prove my innocence!’ Fercus said, his voice shaking.
‘Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you? Days wasted in idle talk while the Senate tries to prove it has one law for all. There is no law down here, in this room. Down here, we still remember Sulla.’
‘I know nothing!’ Fercus shouted, making Antonidus move back a few inches, to his relief.
The general shook his head in regret.
‘We know the killer went by the name of Dalcius. We know he had been bought for kitchen work three weeks before. The record of the sale has vanished, of course, but there were witnesses. Did you think no one would notice Sulla’s own agent at the market? Your name, Fercus, came up over and over again.’
Fercus paled. He knew he would not be allowed to live. He would not see his daughters again. At least they were not in the city. He had sent his wife away when the soldiers came for the slave market records, understanding then what would happen and knowing he could not run with them if he wanted them to escape the wolves Sulla’s friends would put on his trail.
He had accepted that there was a small risk, but after burning the sale papers, he had thought they would never make the link among so many thousands of others. His eyes filled with tears.
‘Guilt overwhelms you? Or is it just that you have been found out?’ Antonidus asked sharply. Fercus said nothing and looked at the floor. He did not think he could stand torture.
The men who entered at Antonidus’ order were old soldiers, calm and untroubled at what they were asked to do.
‘I want names from him,’ Antonidus said to them. He turned back to Fercus and raised his head until their eyes met once more. ‘Once these men have started, it will take a tremendous effort to make them stop. They enjoy this sort of thing. Is there anything you want to say before it begins?’
‘The Republic is worth a life,’ Fercus said, his eyes bright.
Antonidus smiled. ‘The Republic is dead, but I do love to meet a man of principle. Let’s see how long it lasts.’
Fercus tried to pull away as the first slivers of metal were pressed against his skin. Antonidus watched in fascination for a while, then slowly grew pale, wincing at the muffled, heaving sounds Fercus made as the two men bent over him. Nodding to them to continue, the general left, hurrying to be out in the cool night air.
It was worse than anything Fercus had ever known, an agony of humiliation and terror. He turned his head to one of the men and his lips twisted open to speak, though his blurring eyes could not see more than vague shapes of pain and light.
‘If you love Rome, let me die. Let me die quickly.’
The two men paused to exchange a glance, then resumed their work.
Julius sat in the sand with the others, shivering as dawn finally came to warm them. They had soaked the clothes in the sea, removing the worst of months of fetid darkness, but they had to let them