Only the lean man's intelligence and will to survive had carried him through that time. Through sheer hard work, he had built up a network of friends among the rich and powerful and was now a rising star of the Roman political world. People like Cato and Pompey Magnus were starting to notice him. Marcus Licinius Crassus, one of the most prominent figures in Rome, had lent him huge financial backing, but the young politician needed smaller men's support too. It had been a good opportunity to show who led the group.
By cowing Caelius into submission, the lean man had strengthened his dominance over more lowly equestrian friends. On the road to power, he needed obedient allies for a smooth passage. The capital was full of those who wanted to rule, but that position was really only open to a few. By playing his hand right, he too would be one of them one day.
He came back to the present. 'Go home. Before someone less merciful finds you.'
Disbelief flitted across the slave 's face, but it was instantly hidden. 'Thank you, Master.' She had seen the dagger and knew how easily he could have used it.
'Be swift, or you'll end up in the Tiber.' The idea of killing the girl did not appeal – he wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. He turned and was gone.
The girl waited until all sounds had disappeared into the night. Gripping her torn shift tightly, she fled through the dark streets towards her master's house. Returning late and without her basket of food, the reception from Gemellus would be even worse than what she had just endured. But there was nowhere else for her to go.
Northern Italy, 70 BC
The Vinalia Rustica had been and gone and still no opportunity had arisen for Tarquinius to get away from the
sestertius
vilicus
About two weeks after talking to the foreman, the young Etruscan was summoned to Caelius' stone-flagged office early one morning. Tarquinius was delighted. Events were beginning to move again. It was still intimidating to be in the hard-faced Roman's presence. Tarquinius strongly disliked the estate 's owner – he could not have explained why – and his dream had only strengthened this feeling.
Studying a parchment on his desk, Caelius ignored him for some time. Tarquinius waited, staring curiously at mementoes throughout the large, square room. Greek statues of the gods sat either side of a low altar. A bust of a man with a beaked nose and piercing gaze sat in an alcove, displayed so everyone who entered could see it. Shields and swords of different types hung from nails, trophies from Caelius' time in the army. The weapons, evidence of a world outside the
.
'Three days?' Tarquinius was stunned by the timing. 'Six wolves?'
'I can do it, Master,' Tarquinius said hurriedly. It would give him the chance to get meat for Dexter.
Caelius waved a hand in dismissal.
Tarquinius had reached the door when the redhead spoke again.
'Return late and I'll have you crucified.'
'Master?' Shocked, he stared at Caelius blankly. The threat sounded genuine.
'You heard me,' the redhead replied. His eyes were dark slits.
Tarquinius bobbed his head and closed the door behind him. Alarmed by the cryptic remark, he went to the family's room and gathered up a few belongings, together with a bow and quiver. The thought of time with Olenus soon lifted his spirits. Grinning broadly, he kissed his mother goodbye and left the estate buildings behind.
The small groves on slopes above the villa were full of slaves bringing in the olive harvest. The original trees had been brought from Greece hundreds of years before. Green olives and their valuable oil provided a huge part of Rome's wealth. Tarquinius wondered again why Caelius had not planted more of them to help with his financial problems.
'Don't forget our deal,' the
'What do you mean?'
'Crassus has an interest in the old man. Gods alone know why.'
Tarquinius opened his mouth to ask more, but the foreman had already turned away, shouting orders.
What interest could Marcus Licinius Crassus have in Olenus?
The immensely wealthy noble had defeated Spartacus the year before, ending the slave rebellion which had almost brought Rome to its knees. It was now common knowledge that the victory had been cleverly claimed by Pompey Magnus, his main rival. The lie had won him a full triumph from the Senate while Crassus had to be satisfied with a mere parade on foot. For months afterwards, the enraged Crassus had continually failed to regain the political advantage.