Vengeance by Jack Ludlow Page A

could not speak his name, only croak and hope it made sense. He was never sure of what got him release and a chance to breathe; perhaps there was enough light to see his face. Nor did he make much sense as he gabbled in a whisper what had been told to him, which had the old man, now sitting upright as Flavius bent over him, reaching out to shake him gently and hiss that he should both slow down and sit.
    Without going into detail, Flavius first told the Scythian the gist of what was contained in that oilskin pouch, hidden now in this very room, and why it was so important that it be kept secret from Blastos, before going on to the tale of his recent visitation. This washeard in near silence, the only sound being growls of outrage from Ohannes on hearing what Senuthius and Blastos intended.
    Then it came to the solution proposed by the messenger that Flavius must flee, given that if he knew a commission of enquiry was coming, but had no idea exactly when, he would likely be dead before it arrived. As he talked and with eyes now adjusted to the low light, the youngster could just make out the slow nodding of the head, followed by the whispered reaction that flight should be for more than just the youngster.
    ‘I am not sure they will torture the slaves and servants but they might, there being no power to stop them. Me? They have seen we are close, as I was to your papa. I have no more notion to feel the hot pincers Senuthius has in store than you. We must go together.’
    Flavius felt he ought to protest, to say that this old man had done enough, yet such was his relief that he would not be alone that noble sentiment died in his throat. ‘But where? I have good friends who might aid me, Philaretus and Asticus, and there were folk prepared to witness against Senuthius.’
    ‘No, you will only put them in danger. The only place that fat sod will struggle to lay a hand on us is over the river.’
    ‘Can that be safe? Romans are not much loved there.’
    ‘Maybe not safe, but when there are two evils it might be the lesser, since we must flee on foot. Senuthius will have mounted men out as soon as it is light, maybe even sooner. He has to reckon on us going south, which might just give us the time to get a boat and make the crossing.’
    ‘I have no notion to end up as a barbarian slave.’
    ‘Better that than hanging on a cross to be pecked at by carrion,’ Ohannes growled.
    ‘How do we get out of the villa unseen?’
    That got a reassuring chuckle. ‘Same way as every servant your papa ever employed, who wanted a wet or a woman without him knowing.’
    Flavius was sent to fetch that which he had left under the tree, with Ohannes, now fully armed, on hand to take them from him and help him back across the sill, the oilskin pouch containing the roll of letters joining the others Flavius carried in his canvas sack. He was led along a corridor to the very end of the servants’ quarters, the increasingly foul odour a sure indication they were heading for their privy.
    It was a windowless enclosure, which accounted for the strength of the smell, but it had a low hatch by which the night soil could be removed of a morning to be taken to the general midden that served as fertiliser for the kitchen garden. They went through that hatch on hands and knees, emerging into moonlight so strong that it had Ohannes insist they wait.
    ‘I have no notion of the numbers that priest has set to watch or where they are. In this light a man can see a good distance, and picking up movement is easy. We need a bit of cloud.’
    ‘What do we do if we’re seen?’
    ‘We kill, young sir, for there be no choice, in silence if we can manage but without if not.’
    ‘Then we will truly be outside the law.’
    ‘The law, sad to say, died with your papa. The only justice left is what Senuthius decides and Blastos carries out.’
    The moon was strong and high, the light of it great enough to wash out the stars, which threw everything into sharp