Free Rome's Executioner by Robert Fabbri

hour.’
    The decurion looked at him quizzically, unused to taking such precautions in the now peaceful client kingdom of Thracia.
    ‘Do it,’ Vespasian ordered, ‘and tell them to keep a sharp lookout.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Tinos replied, peeling away back down the column to give the orders. A few moments later a lituus , a long, straight cavalry horn with an upturned bell end, shrieked a series of high notes and eight troopers galloped past the column and off into the distance towards the looming snow-covered, cloud-ridden massifs of the Haemus to the north and the Rhodope to the west.
    Magnus fell back to get himself acquainted with Varinus and his mates whilst Vespasian settled down to the ride, making pleasant conversation with Tinos as the road started to gently climb through familiar rough country. After the first hour of brisk riding two of the scouts returned within moments of each other; both briefly reported nothing moving in the surrounding area before galloping off again to rejoin their respective units. The rain that had been threatening all day finally started to fall lightly; Vespasian pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders and dropped back next to his brother.
    ‘You did well to spot the discrepancy between the amount of silver bullion at the mint and the amount of denarii minted,’ he said referring to Sabinus’ part in uncovering how Sejanus had utilised Poppaeus’ silver to strike the coinage that he had used to encourage the Thracian rebellion. He had been the junior magistrate overseeing the striking of silver and bronze coinage at the time.
    Sabinus looked at his brother, surprised; he had never received a compliment from him before, which was not surprising as he had never paid Vespasian one. ‘I suppose you want me to compliment you on the thorough way you taught me accountancy,’ he replied suspiciously.
    ‘Not necessarily, although you’ve just implied a compliment by using the word “thorough”, so thank you.’
    ‘Hmph, well, thank you too,’ Sabinus grunted grudgingly. He turned his head away and hunched his body against the intensifying rain.
    They rode on in silence for a while, Vespasian casting the odd sidelong glance at his brother, who resolutely refused to acknowledge him. He smiled to himself, amused by the unintentional compliment that Sabinus had paid him and how it was quite obviously irking him.
    ‘What have you been doing in Rome since you finished your year with the Vigintiviri?’ Vespasian eventually asked conversationally.
    Sabinus frowned. ‘What’s it to you?’
    ‘I’m interested; you are my brother, after all.’
    ‘If you must know, little brother, I’ve been cultivating people to secure me votes in the quaestor elections this year.’
    ‘It can’t have been just arse-licking surely?’ Vespasian wiped away the drops of rain that dripped from his red-plumed helmet.
    ‘Of course it was; that’s how it works, and the bigger the arse the harder I lick it. Your fellow tribune in the Fourth Scythica, Corbulo, for example, he was a quaestor last year and is now in the Senate, his arse has been well and truly licked.’
    ‘You know Corbulo?’
    ‘Don’t sound so surprised, it’s down to you that his arse was put my way for a good licking.’
    ‘How so?’ Vespasian was intrigued.
    Sabinus grinned. ‘Uncle Gaius knows his father; they were praetors in the same year and didn’t tread on each other’s toes and so remain on good terms. When Corbulo came home two years ago his father invited Gaius and I to dinner as a thank you from one family to another.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘Well, little brother, it seems that Corbulo thinks that he’s got you to be grateful to for saving his life; something about a strange talisman that you were wearing getting you freed from a Thracian camp just as you were being forced to fight to the death. I didn’t quite understand it all, but he seemed convinced that the gods saved you to fulfil your destiny.’ Sabinus