Death Caller (Clay Warrior Stories Book 13) Page 12

  “Sir, my horse threw me, and I was late getting to Malagrotta,” the lad, who wanted to be a priest, admitted.

  Mattia’s stomach revolted and he was barely able to swallow the mouthful of meat. In frustration, his fingers sank into the piece of beef causing juices to run down his fingers.

  The messengers’ eyes bulged at the succulent meat and rich liquid.

  Mattia enjoyed the want in the lad’s face for a moment before stating, “And then what happened?”

  “The guards at the villa argued with me,” the lad described. “Before they were convinced of my authority, Legion cavalry arrived.”

  “And my chest with my personal belongings?” Mattia demanded.

  “I have to assume the Legion has it, sir,” the messenger informed him. “I am so, so sorry.”

  “I know,” Mattia agreed. “You look exhausted. Go to the kitchen and have something to eat.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the lad stated while backing out of the room.

  Moments after the messenger left, Mattia did some quick calculations. He needed to get out of the Capital to avoid having to answer questions about the stolen goods.

  “Guard.” At Mattia’s call, the sentry walked in. “Get me a pair of escorts and have three horses saddled. I’m going to visit the temple at Alban Hills.”

  “Right away, sir,” the Guard replied. “Anything else?”

  “Send someone to the kitchen,” Mattia added, “and have that urchin thrown out of the Temple. He is unfit to be a Priest of Jupiter.”

  ***

  Alerio rode to the gate of the Legion Fort and reined in Phobos.

  “I am here to see Fleet Praetor Sudoris,” Alerio stated before the Legionary could question him. “It is official business.”

  The man on the horse wore a clean tunic adorned with a Tribune’s ribbon. For that reason, the man on sentry duty did not call Optio Noxalis or ask to see the officer’s orders.

  After lifting the barrier, the guard saluted and said, “Have a good day, sir.”

  Answering Alerio’s nudge, the horse stepped off. Then as Phobos moved through the gate, the stallion nipped at the Legionary.

  “Typical staff officer’s horse,” the Legionary complained. “Maybe I should have delayed the Tribune and that mean horse by calling the Sergeant of the Guard.”

  As a result of Alerio passing through the gate unchallenged, Optio Noxalis had no idea that one of Tristis’ porters had returned as a Legion staff officer - One with knowledge of the Legion NCO’s habit of taking payments to allow access to the fort.

  Alerio rode to the command building, dismounted, and marched into the office.

  “Tribune Alerio Carvilius Sisera to see Fleet Praetor Sudoris,” Alerio said using his full name but only Zelare Sudoris’ last name and title.

  The form of address hinted at an imbalance between social standings. It made Alerio seem to be from a more important family than the Praetor.

  “Yes, sir,” the clerk responded.

  He went to an inner office and quickly returned.

  “The Praetor will see you now, Tribune,” the Centurion instructed. “Go right in.”

  Alerio marched to the office, stepped over the threshold, and saluted.

  “Sisera? What are you doing at Ostia?” Zelare Sudoris remarked. “I thought you were managing your father’s farm.”

  “I was sir. But Colonel Gaius Claudius drafted me for a mission,” Alerio replied.

  He pulled the waxed piece of paper from a pouch, broke the seal, and peeled back the wax.

  “Here in Ostia?” Sudoris questioned while taking and reading Alerio’s letter of authorization.

  “You have a theft problem in supply,” Alerio described. “I was sent to investigate.”

  “I saw a report, but it only showed a few items missing. This hints at a much more extensive crime,” the Praetor offered. “Are you here to check the books? If so, you better hurry. The fleet is getting ready to launch.”

  “The investigation is complete, sir,” Alerio told the Fleet Commander. “We need to question Tribune Gutteris, Optio Noxalis, and the Tesserarius who keeps the books.”

  “Those are your witnesses to the theft?” Sudoris inquired.

  “Only one is a witness, Praetor,” Alerio informed him. “The other two are guilty of cheating the Legion out of thousands of coins by stealing supplies.”

  “I’ll have Tribune Gutteris collect the other two and we’ll meet later today,” Sudoris offered.

  “That is a problem, sir,” Alerio corrected. “Tribune Gutteris is one of the conspirators, as is the Optio.”

  A sour look flashed over Praetor Sudoris’ face.

  “Senior Centurion, come in here,” the Fleet Commander called to the outer office. The fleet’s senior combat officer appeared in the doorway. Before he could report, Sudoris spoke. “Take three squads from First Century. I am ordering the arrests of Tribune Gutteris and Optio Noxalis. And have the supply Corporal brought here as a witness.”

  “Right away, sir,” the Centurion responded.

  “Now I have a problem, Sisera,” Sudoris announced by waving the letter in the air.

  “What’s that, sir?” Alerio asked.

  “Tribune Marcus Flamma left to join the Legion in Sicilia yesterday,” Sudoris replied. “With Gutteris removed, the Legion assigned to the fleet is short two Tribunes for our Second Maniple.”

  “That is a problem,” Alerio agreed. “What will you do, sir?”

  “I have an experienced Centurion I can move to the right side,” Praetor Sudoris informed Alerio. “For the left side? Let me welcome you to Paterculus Legion East.”

  “I am being drafted into the Legion assigned to the fleet?” Alerio questioned.

  “That is correct, Tribune Sisera.”

  ***

  Fetial Priest Mattia, his two bodyguards, and a cart with his luggage passed the five-mile marker. Moving at a slow but steady pace, they were far enough southeast of the Capital that the Servian Walls had vanished into the distance.

  “Rider coming, sir,” one of the Temple Guards warned.

  In response, the priest eased his horse to the side of the road to allow the faster traffic to get by. Soon the noise of galloping hooves on the road came from behind him. Easily overtaking the small procession, a messenger came abreast of the Priest then jerked back on the reins.

  The horse squatted, the rider angled back to keep from being thrown over the mount’s neck, and the animal halted beside the priest.

  “Sir, a letter from the guard at Malagrotta,” the courier stated.

  He handed Mattia a folded piece of paper. The Fetial Priest ripped off the seal and scanned the words.

  “Any reply, sir?” the courier inquired.

  “No,” Mattis barked.

  He kicked his mount and raced away. The action took the guards by surprise. They looked from the cart to the shrinking back of their charge.

  “Go,” one ordered. “I’ll stay with the cart.”

  ***

  The Fetial Priest and his guard reached Jupiter’s Temple at Alban Hills long before sunset. Left ten miles behind, the cart and the other guard made their way up the steep winding path to the temple long after dark. While the wheels squeaked in the night, the refectory of the usually sleepy regional temple buzzed with activity.

  Beyond the visit of Supervising Priest Rastellus, the Temple at Alban Hills also hosted a Fetial Priest. Celebrant Evandrus was busting with pride and personally oversaw the preparations for the feast. He succeeded as succulent aromas wafted through the air when the guests sat around the table.

  “Fetial Mattia, what brings you to our humble temple?” Evandrus asked.

  “Recently, I lost something dear to me,” Mattia replied while spearing a piece of lamb. “I thought a change of scenery would help me heal.”

  “Between the fresh air, the evergreens, and the view,” Evandrus extoled the benefits of the location. “Jupiter’s Temple at Alban Hills is an excellen
t place to regain your balance.”

  “Not likely, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Mattia acknowledged.

  Priest Rastellus loaded his plate, pulled it close to his stomach, and took a mouthful of food. As he chewed, he held up a finger. The other priests waited for him to speak, even though he had not been asked a question or solicited for a comment.

  “I had the oddest experience yesterday,” Rastellus finally said after swallowing. “At a feast with the Legion, a young staff officer burst in to speak with Colonel Gaius Claudius. He had been undercover investigating theft at Ostia. It was all extremely exciting, until the name of Malagrotta came up. I sent a runner to the Capital because I know you have a country estate there, Mattia.”

  “I am afraid I didn’t receive the missive,” Mattia lied. The message was the reason the messengers went to warn the Legion supply warehouse and to the town of Malagrotta. “You didn’t happen to get the name of the officer?”

  “Carvilius Sisera, or something like that. His father is Senior Spurius Maximus,” Rastellus responded.

  “Alerio Carvilius Sisera?” Evandrus asked.

  “Yes, quite right,” Rastellus confirmed.

  “His adopted mother lives in the City of Tusculum,” Evandrus reported. “The family has a large farm several miles away on the flatland.”

  “The Carvilius Maximus family is why I am here,” Rastellus informed the others. “I am curious about the gift of gold they donated to the Temple.”

  “Gold?” Fetial Priest Mattia remarked. “What’s the name of Tribune Sisera’s adopted mother?”

  “Aquila Carvilius Maximus,” Evandrus told him. “I can escort you to their villa if you would like to visit.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mattia brushed aside the offer. “I’d rather she met a Fetial Priest for the first time, alone.”

  “Right. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm a rich temple donor,” Rastellus commented. “We’ll let Fetial Mattia pass on our thanks and blessings when he visits Aquila Carvilius.”

  “If you think that is best,” Evandrus said in defeat.

  He feared his underhanded control of the Maximus farm would come up. If it did, the Temple of Jupiter at Rome might want a larger share of his earnings from the scam. But a regional priest did not challenge a Fetial Priest. Evandrus would have to depend on fate to keep his secret from the other Temple representatives.

  Chapter 20 – Sharp Edge of Reason

  Three days after Tribune Sisera took command of six Centuries of the Second Maniple, a mounted messenger, leading a chestnut stallion rode into the city of Tusculum. After asking for directions, he guided the horses to the gates of the Maximus country estate. A brief discussion with the gate guard saw him riding to a side door of the villa.

  “I have a letter for Lady Carvilius,” he told to the household guard, “and a horse with the temper of Furor.”

  “Not the God of Mad Rage,” the man-at-arms corrected the courier. “That’s Phobos, the God of Fear, and he is Tribune Sisera’s horse.”

  “I don’t care who owns the monster,” the messenger described. “I just want the beast out of my charge.”

  “You have a dispatch for the Lady of the house?” the guard insisted.

  Along with the letter, the messenger attempted to hand over the reins.

  “I’m not taking that stallion,” the man-at-arms advised. “I’ll have a stable man come around.”

  Inside the villa, the household guard handed the letter to the estate manager. As the man-at-arms went to find the animal handler, the servant took the missive to a sitting room.

  “Lady Carvilius, you have a letter from Master Sisera,” he announced.

  “From Alerio?” Aquila asked with a smile. “Give it here.”

  The Lady Carvilius broke the seal and read the words from her adopted son.

  ***

  The Lady Aquila Carvilius Maximus

  Mother Carvilius,

  I pray this letter finds you in good health with the necessary stamina to keep the estate in order. Senator Maximus is also receiving a letter, but I wanted to tell you personally about my situation and my whereabouts.

  The Second Maniple was short on staff officers and I was pressed into service. We sail for Sardinia tomorrow to push the Qart Hadasht forces into the sea. After the campaign, the Empire will no longer threaten the Capital from the island. Rest assured that I plan to be careful and will return to you safely in late Spring.

  Hopefully, Centurion Accantus is meeting your approval and the farm is planted. I look forward to seeing the ground broken for your grape vineyard when I return.

  Alerio Carvilius Sisera, Citizen of the Republic, Tribune of the Legion, and your proud son.

  ***

  Aquila clutched the letter in her hand and felt pressure building behind her eyes. Just as when her husband marched off to war years ago, Aquila Carvilius worried about her son. Her apprehension faded when Spurius Maximus discovered a passion for politics. Although it kept Spurius in the Capital most of the year, at least she knew he was safe. The Lady Carvilius reread the letter, knowing she would have many sleepless nights until Alerio returned from the Legion.

  ***

  The next day just as the sun reached the top of the sky, three horses turned onto the drive leading to the Maximus estate. A household guard, seeing one of the riders wearing a fancy robe, hobbled into the villa on his bad legs. Almost all older Legion infantrymen suffered pains in the knees. If he had been fit, Aquila Carvilius would have had more time to prepare. As it was, she issued lunch orders then scurried to the front door. Stepping onto the porch, she calmed herself as the riders approached.

  “Lady Carvilius. I am Fetial Priest Mattia from Jupiter’s Temple in Rome,” the robed man announced.

  “Where is Celebrant Evandrus?” Aquila inquired. “We only met socially a few times, but he represents the local temple at Alban Hills.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of your family’s generosity,” Mattia offered as he walked up the steps. Without waiting for Lady Carvilius’ invitation, the priest strolled into the villa. Then from inside, he asked. “Are you coming Aquila?”

  ***

  Shocked at the Priest’s impudence, Aquila rushed in preparing to scold the rude man.

  “Recently, I have lost something dear to me,” Mattia confessed.

  Feeling remorseful towards the Priest, Aquila allowed him to lead her to a sitting room. He selected a couch and she sat on one as well.

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Lady Carvilius offered. “Was there nothing you could do about it?”

  Mattia waved at his escorts. To Aquila’s horror, the young bodyguards pushed her older household guards from the room.

  “I need privacy,” Mattia directed, “and beef. Alert the kitchen.”

  Aquila fought to keep from yelling at the man’s boorish behavior. Instead, she calmed herself, controlled her breathing, and studied the priest’s expensive robes.

  She had never met a Fetial Priest but knew they consulted the Senate on foreign matters. It appeared to her, they also reaped financial benefits from the association.

  “There was nothing I could do to prevent the loss,” Mattia explained. “Because I wasn’t there when your son took it from me.”

  “My son? Alerio?” Aquila asked in confusion.

  One of the bodyguards came through the doorway with a platter of meat. He placed it on the table beside the priest then left the room.

  “Not him in person,” Mattia stated. After cutting a piece of beef, he shoved it into his mouth. While chewing, and with juices running from the corners of his lips, Mattia slurred. “Tasty. Not personally but, as a direct result of your son’s actions.”

  “That, my dear priest, seems to be a matter you should discuss with my son,” Aquila ventured. “Unfortunately, he is not here.”

  “Alerio is a Legion officer and your husband is a Senator,” Mattia exclaimed. “Do you know what I am?”

  Lady Carvilius stopped herse
lf from voicing an unladylike response.

  “A Priest of Jupiter,” she replied.

  “Ah, my dear Aquila,” Mattia corrected. He paused to pull a piece of gristle from between his teeth. He examined the twisted gray mass before dropping it on the floor. “I am Fetial and speak with the authority of Jupiter. On my word, your son’s Legion could be instructed to attack a Qart Hadasht stronghold. With a wave of my hand, I can cause your husband’s trade agreements to evaporate. And with a whisper, you become an outcast from your social circles and the produce from your farm becomes cursed and unmarketable.”

  Aquila’s entire frame shuddered. Thinking of her fear for Alerio while he fought in Sardinia and the commerce that supported her husband in the Senate, the Lady Carvilius’ head felt as if it would explode. And while the threats to her loved ones were paramount to her, being ostracized from her friends and being poor, added to her heartbreak.

  “What did my son take from you?” Aquila questioned.

  “Three hundred gold coins,” Mattia declared.

  With her eyes bulging and her mouth hanging open, the Lady of the house staired at the Priest of Jupiter. Moments passed as she processed the information and uttered an opinion.

  “You barge into my villa and menace my family,” Aquila cried, “because you lost a few gold coins?”

  “To you, they represent purchasing power. To me, gold is dear,” Mattia admitted. “And due to the actions of your son, a sum of gold has been taken from me.”

  Crushed by the brutal honesty of the unstable man, Lady Carvilius lowered her head.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “That is simple, Lady Carvilius,” Mattia informed her. “The return of my three hundred gold coins.”

  “And for that, you will leave my family alone?” she inquired.

  “I may. Or I may not,” the Fetial warned. “But if you don’t pay for the sins of your son, I will vent the power of Jupiter on your life and the lives of your husband and son.”

  “But I don’t have that much gold,” Aquila told him.

  “So, you admit to having some on hand,” Mattia said picking up on her use of the word much. “Plus, you have land that you can sell.”