Most Wanted by Kate Thompson Page A

citizens?”
    My knees went so weak that they would barely support me. This was absurd, it had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be happening.
    â€œAnd you must be the consul’s companion,” said the man, looking me up and down and making a clear effort to disguise his surprise and contempt. I’m a baker, after all. We have a tendency to be more than a little dusty.
    I was rooted to the spot, my mind in turmoil. You see, the horse I was holding was a lot more than just a horse. After the emperor the two consuls are Rome’s most powerful officials, as I’m sure you know. If I were holding a dragon, it couldn’t have been more dangerous.
    â€œYes, sir,” I stammered. “His companion. Indeed. For today, that is.”
    Our consuls are elected by the people, but this one was an exception. Emperor Gaius had flouted the senate and made the decision himself. I found myself stroking the horse’s neck, realized that this was no way to behave toward a consul, and stood to a kind of trembling attention. The rich man’s eyes darkened.
    â€œThat is,” I spluttered, “the consul is taking a stroll and I am accompanying him.”
    I could tell that the man didn’t believe a word I said, but what could he do? I saw a slim possibility of escape and leaped at it.
    â€œPerhaps you would care to accompany him back to the palace yourself, sir?” I said, offering him the golden chain.
    He backed away as though he had just noticed that I was a leper and simpered something about very urgent business. He bowed again to the horse, reversed a few steps in that position, then turned and scuttled away down the street as fast as his plump legs would carry him.

Chapter Two
    U nder other circumstances I might have found it funny to see that man’s undignified retreat. But I was in far too much danger to laugh. If I was caught, I was done for.
    You might think that appointing a horse as your second-in-command was a clever kind of joke, but I can assure you there was nothing funny about Emperor Gaius and his madness. We had all celebrated when he took over as our emperor. Anything had to be better than Tiberius. That’s what we thought, anyway. It just goes to show how wrong you can be.
    Little Boots, we called him, because he used to wear miniature versions of soldiers’ boots when he was a child. Sounds so innocent and affectionate, doesn’t it? And it was to begin with. But by the time that golden chain was put into my hand, the mention of the name was enough to make my blood run cold. He had become a monster, a tyrant of the worst imaginable kind.
    I had to get out of there, and as soon as I could persuade my legs to move, I tried to make a run for it. I dropped the chain, picked up the handles of my cart, and set out for home.
    But the consul Incitatus had other ideas. He had his own house next to the palace, where important people went to have dinner with him, and a retinue of servants who looked after him night and day. He wasn’t used to being alone. So when I went off down the street, he followed me, dragging the end of his golden chain along the cobbles.
    Alarmed as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to shout and wave my arms at one of Rome’s consuls, so there wasn’t much I could do to stop him. I put down the handles of the handcart again, and I was still trying to work out what to do when I heard running footsteps and turned to see a boy of about my own age racing up behind me. There was something about his urgency that made me realize he wasn’t on any ordinary errand, and I remembered what the slave had said about “terrible news.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I called to the boy.
    He glanced at me as he raced past, but he didn’t reply.
    I looked back the way he had come. There was activity at the crossroads back there. I could see soldiers heading toward the palace and a flurry of people moving rapidly in the opposite