Free Gladiator: Vengeance by Simon Scarrow Page B

On closer inspection Marcus decided that the whole precinct had a rundown appearance. Much of the faded ochre paint on the columns was peeling. The gold that had once flowed into the hands of those running the temple had all but dried up.
    ‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ Lupus commented.
    Festus shrugged. ‘Big. Yes. Seen better back in Rome. At least our temples and shrines are looked after properly.’
    ‘But they are only copies of the Greek originals,’ Lupus replied with a touch of irritation. ‘So much of what we have was inspired by the Greeks. An amazing civilization.’
    ‘If they were so amazing, I wonder how they became part of our empire and not the other way round,’ Festus answered drily.
    Lupus ignored him as he craned his neck to inspect the relief of Apollo. Marcus followed his example briefly, then lowered his gaze to look around the precinct. A handful of other people stood admiring the temple, while a wizened priest sat on the steps behind a small altar. He looked bored, but soon stood when he saw Marcus and his companions draw closer to the temple.
    ‘Good evening, sirs. Care to make a donation to the upkeep of the temple?’ He rattled a small wooden box. His voice dropped and his eyes narrowed beneath their bushy brows as he stared at them. ‘Or, for a more generous payment, you could be given a glimpse of your future …’
    Festus shook his head and laughed. ‘Away with you! We’ll not be taken in by your racket.’
    ‘Racket?’ The priest frowned, then drew himself up to his full height, some inches shorter than Festus, and touched his spare hand to his breast. ‘Sir, do you dare to scorn the Oracle, here on the very ground that was sanctified by the God Apollo?’
    Lupus nudged Festus in the ribs. ‘Thought we weren’t trying to draw any attention to ourselves …?’
    Festus muttered a curse, then bowed his head in apology. ‘I am sorry. I am a weary traveller. I spoke without thought.’
    ‘Then you are forgiven, my boy.’ The priest made a gesture with his hand, then held out the box again. ‘And I’m sure a little something extra would go some way to appeasing Apollo.’
    As Festus growled and reached for his purse Marcus took a step towards the priest, a strange gleam in his eyes. ‘Wait, you said you could see into the future.’
    The priest tutted. ‘That’s what we do here, as I am sure you’re aware. For a small fee.’
    Marcus stared back at him. ‘How much?’
    ‘The great men who have come here to know their destiny paid great sums for the privilege. But for ordinary mortals a lesser sum is acceptable.’
    ‘How much?’ Marcus asked again, impatient with the old priest. ‘To tell me my future. How much?’
    The priest eyed the three visitors shrewdly and tilted his head slightly to one side. ‘You are clearly Romans of modest means. But Apollo takes an interest in all mortals for a small sum. Shall we say … five denarii?’
    ‘What?’ Festus’s eyebrows rose in shock. ‘FIVE denarii! Are you mad?’
    The priest pointed a gnarled finger. ‘I’ve already warned you. Do I call the temple guards to throw you out?’
    ‘Pay him,’ Marcus said firmly.
    Festus turned to look at him in astonishment. ‘It’s too much, Marcus.’
    ‘There’s something I must know,’ Marcus countered. ‘The money was entrusted to me as well by … by our former master. Please, Festus, pay him.’
    Marcus stared at the bodyguard intently for a moment beforethe latter shook his head and took out five silver coins from his purse. He hesitated a moment before slapping them down on the altar. ‘There. I hope it’s worth it.’
    The priest hastily scraped the coins into his palm, then raised one to bite on it with his remaining teeth. He held it up and squinted before nodding and feeding the coins into the slot on top of his box. Closing his eyes, he raised his face towards the night sky and his lips moved silently.
    ‘Well?’ Festus demanded.
    ‘Shhh!’ The priest’s