a butcher, aren’t you?”
Athanasius put the tip of his sword to Maximus’s saggy neck. “And what are you, Maximus? Who are you, friend?”
Maximus nodded as if to say, “I’ll tell you,” and Athanasius pulled back the tip of his sword slightly. Then Maximus wiped his bloody lips with the back of his hand and coughed.
“The Dei are everywhere, Athanasius. They cannot be defeated. You cannot defeat them. In a few short years they will take over the world.”
“Names, Maximus. I want names.”
Suddenly Maximus gagged and went limp, collapsing to the floor.
Athanasius stared into his face. The old man’s eyes were wide—and dead.
Kneeling over the body of his dead mentor, Athanasius noticed the ring on Maximus’s gnarled forefinger. It reminded him of the one on his own hand, the one Marcus had given him.
The finger was already cold when Athanasius slipped the ring off and noticed the tiny hole. He sniffed.
Poison. Just like the stick.
Athanasius could hardly believe it. Maximus had sucked poison out of his ring rather than reveal anything more about Dominium Dei.
What more could there possibly be?
Athanasius then peeled away Maximus’s robe to examine his mentor’s barrel chest. Something had caught his eye during their struggle.
There it was, under the left armpit: a jagged death cross tattooed in black on the pasty white skin. It was a
Chi
symbol—the mark of an invisible army with legions around the world.
Dominium Dei.
They were indeed everywhere.
A piercing scream filled the air. Athanasius looked up at the slave girl standing in the doorway, peering in. “You killed the senator!”
He heard movement through the walls. The whole house was stirring. Athanasius picked up his helmet. He had to get out of there.
“Silence!” ordered Athanasius, releasing his grip on the robe and slipping Maximus’s ring on the opposite hand of the one with Marcus’s. “This is state business.”
“You are defiling him!” she screamed. Her piercing cry reverberated off the walls like an alarm, and suddenly the siren of a horn blasted outside, alerting the entire hillside.
Athanasius rushed past her as she flattened herself against the wall and ran down the hallway to the front door. Maximus’s carriage was at the gate, but it was too late to reach it now. Already a squad of Urban Cohorts, swords and spears out for attack, were running toward the villa, attracted by the sound of the horn.
Athanasius turned back and ran through the rooms of the house, waving his sword and knocking slaves over. When he reached the back balcony overlooking the old Republic Wall, he leaped off it, landing on the hillside behind the villa and sliding down the slope toward the grim apartment blocks in the vast slums below.
Arrows zoomed past his head as he ran toward the roof of a long apartment block built into the hill.
He was almost there when an arrow struck his helmet, sending him tumbling down and crashing onto the red clay tiles, terrorizing the screaming family in the room below. He rolled off into the rooftop courtyard, found the narrow stone steps and commanded his tired legs to race down six flights. A moment later he burst out of the stairwell and disappeared into the dark alleys of the city’s slums, cursing himself for missing his only escape out of Rome.
X
A thanasius ran on through the tangled streets in the dark, racing past the archways of the booths and shops boarded up and bolted shut for the night. The apartment slums above the
tabernae
on either side rose up six stories tall. He could easily lose himself in this jumbled maze of alleys until morning, blowing any hope of making his rendezvous with the Ferryman. Even if he reached the Cloaca Maxima beneath the Basilica Julia, he doubted the Ferryman would still be waiting for him. But if he didn’t try, he was dead already.
He looked up for breaks along the seemingly endless ridge of black rooftops for a clear line of sight to the Temple of
Athanasius put the tip of his sword to Maximus’s saggy neck. “And what are you, Maximus? Who are you, friend?”
Maximus nodded as if to say, “I’ll tell you,” and Athanasius pulled back the tip of his sword slightly. Then Maximus wiped his bloody lips with the back of his hand and coughed.
“The Dei are everywhere, Athanasius. They cannot be defeated. You cannot defeat them. In a few short years they will take over the world.”
“Names, Maximus. I want names.”
Suddenly Maximus gagged and went limp, collapsing to the floor.
Athanasius stared into his face. The old man’s eyes were wide—and dead.
Kneeling over the body of his dead mentor, Athanasius noticed the ring on Maximus’s gnarled forefinger. It reminded him of the one on his own hand, the one Marcus had given him.
The finger was already cold when Athanasius slipped the ring off and noticed the tiny hole. He sniffed.
Poison. Just like the stick.
Athanasius could hardly believe it. Maximus had sucked poison out of his ring rather than reveal anything more about Dominium Dei.
What more could there possibly be?
Athanasius then peeled away Maximus’s robe to examine his mentor’s barrel chest. Something had caught his eye during their struggle.
There it was, under the left armpit: a jagged death cross tattooed in black on the pasty white skin. It was a
Chi
symbol—the mark of an invisible army with legions around the world.
Dominium Dei.
They were indeed everywhere.
A piercing scream filled the air. Athanasius looked up at the slave girl standing in the doorway, peering in. “You killed the senator!”
He heard movement through the walls. The whole house was stirring. Athanasius picked up his helmet. He had to get out of there.
“Silence!” ordered Athanasius, releasing his grip on the robe and slipping Maximus’s ring on the opposite hand of the one with Marcus’s. “This is state business.”
“You are defiling him!” she screamed. Her piercing cry reverberated off the walls like an alarm, and suddenly the siren of a horn blasted outside, alerting the entire hillside.
Athanasius rushed past her as she flattened herself against the wall and ran down the hallway to the front door. Maximus’s carriage was at the gate, but it was too late to reach it now. Already a squad of Urban Cohorts, swords and spears out for attack, were running toward the villa, attracted by the sound of the horn.
Athanasius turned back and ran through the rooms of the house, waving his sword and knocking slaves over. When he reached the back balcony overlooking the old Republic Wall, he leaped off it, landing on the hillside behind the villa and sliding down the slope toward the grim apartment blocks in the vast slums below.
Arrows zoomed past his head as he ran toward the roof of a long apartment block built into the hill.
He was almost there when an arrow struck his helmet, sending him tumbling down and crashing onto the red clay tiles, terrorizing the screaming family in the room below. He rolled off into the rooftop courtyard, found the narrow stone steps and commanded his tired legs to race down six flights. A moment later he burst out of the stairwell and disappeared into the dark alleys of the city’s slums, cursing himself for missing his only escape out of Rome.
X
A thanasius ran on through the tangled streets in the dark, racing past the archways of the booths and shops boarded up and bolted shut for the night. The apartment slums above the
tabernae
on either side rose up six stories tall. He could easily lose himself in this jumbled maze of alleys until morning, blowing any hope of making his rendezvous with the Ferryman. Even if he reached the Cloaca Maxima beneath the Basilica Julia, he doubted the Ferryman would still be waiting for him. But if he didn’t try, he was dead already.
He looked up for breaks along the seemingly endless ridge of black rooftops for a clear line of sight to the Temple of
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