The Devil Will Come by Glenn Cooper Page B

For the sake of space most would be cremated. But he and his sons and his son’s sons could be laid out – all their flesh, all their bones – in all their glory.
    There was a solitary figure waiting for him, his face concealed by a hooded cloak. He bowed slightly to Balbilus and said, ‘The others are outside.’
    Balbilus, together with this man, Vibius, emerged from a rear door into the cold December night. They were within a grove only a few paces off the Appian Way. The mausoleum was a rectangular building with a barrel-vaulted roof made of the finest bricks. Balbilus’s lavish villa lay on the other side of the grove.
    The quarter-moon reappeared from behind a shroud of purple clouds. Five cloaked figures moved away from the darkness of the fruit trees. Balbilus lined them up like a military unit in front of the mausoleum wall.
    ‘I’ve studied the charts, and the stars favor action,’ Balbilus said, addressing the men. ‘Tonight we light a fire. Although it will be small at first it will spawn another one, and another and another until, one day, there will be a great conflagration that will consume the city. And when that happens we will gain wealth and power beyond our dreams. It is in the stars and I know it to be true. Tonight we will set the Romans against this new Christian cult. I can see in the stars that they will become powerful one day. Their message is seductive, like bread and circuses for the soul. The masses will, I fear, take to it like sheep. If we allow them to become too powerful they will be a formidable enemy. Vibius has my instructions. Tonight you will spill blood because …’ he took a breath for effect then spat out the rest ‘ … this is what we do .’
    And the men answered in unison, ‘ And this is who we are .’
    Balbilus left them and went back underground where his paintbrushes awaited him.
    The six men moved out in silence. Making use of the concealment provided by the tombs and foliage bordering the Appian Way they headed north toward Rome.
    After a while they came upon a dim radius of flickering light cast by pitch torches on either side of a broad postern gate. They flitted from shadow to shadow, getting closer.
    The two Praetorians peered dispiritedly into the feeble pool of light and stamped their feet to keep warm.
    Vibius made his move. He weaved onto the main road, garbling the words of a drinking song. The sentries became alert and stared as he emerged from the darkness, swaying gently. He stopped to take a swig from a bulging wine-bag.
    Resuming his unsteady approach, he came to a stumbling halt, just beyond arm’s length from the stockier of the two sentinels.
    ‘Eh, lads, let me pass, will you?’ he slurred.
    The soldier seemed to relax but he still kept his hand on the pommel of his short-sword.
    ‘It’s curfew hour, you drunken fool – all passage is forbidden.’
    Vibius staggered a bit further forward, offering the wine sack. ‘Drink, my lords, as much as you want. I will pay you for entry. All’s I want is to get home.’
    With his left hand he waved the bag in the guard’s face and when the soldier raised his arm to swat it away Vibius suddenly thrust his right hand upwards, gripping the long dagger he’d concealed beneath his robe. The blade pierced the underside of the guard’s chin and with a grisly crunch its point exited through the top of his head.
    The second Praetorian didn’t have time to draw his weapon. Another cloaked man had crept through the shadows, clamped an arm around the guard’s chest and reached for his jaw with his free hand. With a violent motion the cloaked man jerked hard and there was a loud crack as the Praetorian’s vertebrae gave way.
    Both corpses twitched on the cold ground, then went limp . The rest of the cloaked men converged on them and joined in a savage choreography.
    When they were done with their sharp work, body parts floated in pools of blood like pieces of meat in a stew. Vibius reached inside his