‘Don’t look back at them, miss,’ Teddus muttered softly.
She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. Were they following, trotting behind them like wild dogs? She ached to look over her shoulder, but Teddus bore her on through the streets, pulling her away. His limp was getting worse and his breath was laboured with pain as they left the corner behind. He never spoke of it, but his right leg had to be rubbed with liniment each night just to hold his weight in the morning.
Above them, the rain pounded on the roofs of houses packed with people who knew better than to be out on the streets after dark. Alexandria risked a glance behind, but could see nothing and wished she hadn’t. Anger stirred in her then. The Senate did not have to fear as she did. They never moved without armed guards and the raptores avoided them, recognising the presence of a greater threat than they could deal with. The poor had no such protection and even in the daylight there were thefts and sudden skirmishes in the streets that left one or two dead and the rest walking stiffly away, knowing they would not be caught or even chased.
‘We’re nearly there, miss,’ Teddus said again, this time meaning it.
She heard the relief in his voice and wondered what would have happened if the group had drawn their knives. Would he have died for her, or left her to the mercy of the gang? It was impossible to know, but she calculated the cost of hiring another guard to join them. Who would watch him?
Another two turnings brought them to her own street. The houses were larger than the maze they had walked through, but the slurry of filth was thicker if anything, swollen by the rain. She grimaced as a splash of it reached up under her stola to her knee. Another pair of sandals ruined. The leather would never smell clean again, no matter how often she soaked them.
Grunting slightly in pain, Teddus reached her door first and thumped on it. They waited in silence, the two men glancing up and down the street in case anyone was waiting to rush in after them. That had happened to someone only a few nights before in a street not far away from where she lived. No one had dared to come out to help.
Alexandria could hear footsteps approach from the other side.
‘Who’s there?’ came Atia’s voice and Alexandria breathed out slowly in relief at being home. She had known the woman for years and though she lived in the house and cooked for her, Atia was the closest thing she had to family in Rome.
‘It’s me, Ati,’ she said.
Light spilled out as the door opened and they moved in quickly, Teddus waiting until she was off the street before following. He replaced the locking bar carefully and then finally sheathed his knife, the tension easing out of his shoulders.
‘Thank you, both of you,’ Alexandria said.
The son was silent, but Teddus grunted a reply, patting his hand against the solidity of the door as if for reassurance. ‘It’s what we’re paid for,’ he said.
She saw his weak leg was slightly raised as he stood without putting weight on it and her heart went out to him. There were different kinds of courage.
‘I’ll bring you a hot drink after you’ve seen to your leg,’ she said.
To her surprise, he blushed slightly. ‘No need for that, mistress. Me and the boy will look after ourselves. Perhaps later.’
Alexandria nodded, unsure whether she should try again. Teddus seemed uncomfortable with anything approaching an offer of friendship. He appeared to want nothing more from her than regular pay and she had accepted his reserve. Tonight though, she was still shaken and needed people around her.
‘You must be hungry and there’s cold beef in the kitchen. I’d be pleased if you would eat with us when you’re ready.’
Atia shifted her feet and Teddus looked at the floor for a moment, frowning slightly.
‘If you’re sure, mistress,’ he said at last.
Alexandria watched as the two men made their way to their own rooms. She looked at Atia and smiled at the woman’s stern expression.
‘You are too kind to those two,’ Atia said. ‘There’s little good in either of them, father or son. If you let them have the run of the house, they’ll take advantage, I’m sure of it. Servants should not forget their place, nor those who pay them.’
Alexandria chuckled, the fear of the evening beginning to ease. In theory, Atia was a servant herself, though they never mentioned it. Alexandria had known her first when she went looking for clean rooms in the city, and when her jewellery business had grown Atia had come with her to the new house to run it for her. The woman was a tyrant with the other servants, but she made the place feel like a home.
‘I’m glad they were with me, Atia. The raptores were out early with the storm and a cup or two of hot wine is fair pay for safety. Come on, I’m starving.’
Atia sniffed rather than reply, but overtook her in the corridor as they walked towards the kitchen.
The senate building was filled with the light of dozens of spluttering lamps around the walls. The echoing hall was warm and dry despite the muted drumming of the rain outside and few of the men present relished the thought of getting wet on the way to their homes. The afternoon had been taken over with the reports on the city budget, with a string of votes to approve vast sums for the legions keeping the Pax Romana in distant lands. The sums were daunting, but the reserves were healthy enough to tide the city over for another year. One or two of the more elderly senators had let the warmth lull them to dozing and only the storm outside held them from making their way to late meals and their own beds.
Senator Prandus stood at the rostrum, his gaze sweeping along the semicircular rows of benches, looking for support. It annoyed him that Pompey sat muttering to a colleague while Prandus announced his candidacy for the seat of consul. It was at Pompey’s request that he had agreed to put his name forward and the least the man could do was look attentive.
‘If I am elected to the post, I intend to gather the coin makers under a single roof and establish a currency on which the citizens can depend. There are too many coins that only claim to be gold or pure silver and every shop has to have its own scales to weigh the money they are given. A single senate mint will end the confusion and restore trust.’
He saw Crassus frown and wondered if he was responsible for some of those false coins that caused so much damage. It would not surprise him.
‘If the citizens grant me the right to sit as consul, I will act in the interests of Rome, restoring faith in the authority of the Senate.’ He paused again as Pompey looked up and Prandus realised he had made a mistake. Someone chuckled and he felt himself growing flustered.
‘… greater faith in the Senate,’ he added. ‘Respect for authority and the rule of law. Justice that must be seen to be free of bribery or corruption.’ He paused again, his mind going blank.
‘It will be an honour to serve. Thank you,’ he said, stepping down from the rostrum and taking his seat in the front bench with evident relief. One or two of the men closest to him clapped him on the shoulder and he began to relax. Perhaps the speech hadn’t been too bad, after all. He glanced at his son Suetonius to see how he had taken it, but the young man was gazing stonily ahead.
Pompey walked down between the benches and smiled at Senator Prandus as he passed him. Those who had begun whispered conversations fell silent as the consul stepped up to the rostrum. He looked relaxed and confident, Prandus thought with a touch of irritation.
‘I thank the candidates for their words,’ Pompey said, allowing his eyes to rest on the men in silent recognition before continuing. ‘It gives me hope that this great city can still find those willing to devote their lives to her without thought of personal gain or ambition.’ He waited through the appreciative chuckle, leaning forward and resting on his arms.
‘The election will give my builders a chance to enlarge this place and I am willing to give the use of my new theatre while the work goes on.