Lamp-makers’ street. As they progressed, Magnus saw a few shutters on either side of the street open and close quickly, the occupants wanting nothing to do with a unit of the Urban Cohort marching down their road. Magnus smiled to himself knowing that when questions were asked there would be more than a few witnesses able to swear that they saw the men of the Cohort.
Bringing the column to a halt just before the alley, he turned to Servius. ‘Alright brother, get your boys into position. And remind the lads we need two people left alive: one of their whore-boys and that bearded bastard who raped the boy the other night.’
Immediately the five ladders were unloaded, and the fourteen men who were to accompany Servius over the rear wall made their way up the alley.
Once the ladders were set against the wall with three men waiting behind each one Magnus patted Servius on the shoulder. ‘Keep the boys quiet brother whilst I go and take a look at the front. I’ll come back and tell you once it’s clear.’
Taking his four lads and the Armenians with the second cart, he made his way to the end of the street and cautiously peered around the corner. The Vigiles were still there with the doormen but their attention was on the orange glow in the sky to the west.
Magnus waited for what seemed an age, praying that what he had counted upon would come to pass. After many a muttered entreaty to the whole pantheon of gods, a Vigiles optio eventually came pounding up the Via Patricius.
‘You men! Follow me at the double,’ he shouted to his subordinates.
‘But we’re meant to stay here for the night, optio,’ one of the Vigiles protested.
‘Fuck the whore-boys, that’s the Cohort’s depot on fire. The Urban Prefect will have our guts out if he hasn’t got anything to dress his toy-soldiers up in tomorrow. Macro’s ordered every available man down there.’
With a shrug the four Vigiles jogged off towards the conflagration leaving the two doormen alone.
Magnus ran back to the alley. ‘Now Servius,’ he hissed.
Instantly five men scaled the ladders, then crouched and leant back down to help their comrades. Once all fifteen were on the roof, the ladders were pulled up after them and they split into three groups.
As they disappeared from his vision Magnus went back to join his party. ‘Tigran and Vahram, get our guest ready.’
The Armenian cousins pulled back the leather sheet and, with a degree of difficulty, hefted Blandinus out of the cart and supported him between them, an arm around each shoulder.
Faint shouts and screams suddenly emanated from within the Albanians’ establishment. ‘Right, they’re in,’ Magnus whispered looking at the two Armenians. ‘When I give you the signal you run around the corner hollering in Albanian for all you’re worth that the place is under attack and you’ve brought a wounded man from round the back. We’ll be twenty paces behind you so you won’t have long to hold the door once you’ve killed the doormen. Don’t worry if you drop matey-boy here, he won’t feel a thing and we’ll pick him up.’
Tigran and Vahram grinned and nodded.
Good boys, Magnus thought as he peered around the corner, could be useful in the future. The doormen had now heard the fighting and were knocking violently on the door. Magnus heard the bolt slam back. ‘Now!’
The Armenians leapt around the corner, dragging Blandinus between them, shouting in an incomprehensible language. The two doormen glanced up at them in alarm and then at each other. They pulled the cudgels from their belts and one stepped through the now open door whilst the other held his position, with a puzzled look on his face, keeping the door clear for his comrades approaching from the shadows shouting for help in his own language. By the time they were close enough for him to make out their features, it was too late. He died looking into a stranger’s eyes with an unforeseen blade in his heart.
Magnus hurtled
Bringing the column to a halt just before the alley, he turned to Servius. ‘Alright brother, get your boys into position. And remind the lads we need two people left alive: one of their whore-boys and that bearded bastard who raped the boy the other night.’
Immediately the five ladders were unloaded, and the fourteen men who were to accompany Servius over the rear wall made their way up the alley.
Once the ladders were set against the wall with three men waiting behind each one Magnus patted Servius on the shoulder. ‘Keep the boys quiet brother whilst I go and take a look at the front. I’ll come back and tell you once it’s clear.’
Taking his four lads and the Armenians with the second cart, he made his way to the end of the street and cautiously peered around the corner. The Vigiles were still there with the doormen but their attention was on the orange glow in the sky to the west.
Magnus waited for what seemed an age, praying that what he had counted upon would come to pass. After many a muttered entreaty to the whole pantheon of gods, a Vigiles optio eventually came pounding up the Via Patricius.
‘You men! Follow me at the double,’ he shouted to his subordinates.
‘But we’re meant to stay here for the night, optio,’ one of the Vigiles protested.
‘Fuck the whore-boys, that’s the Cohort’s depot on fire. The Urban Prefect will have our guts out if he hasn’t got anything to dress his toy-soldiers up in tomorrow. Macro’s ordered every available man down there.’
With a shrug the four Vigiles jogged off towards the conflagration leaving the two doormen alone.
Magnus ran back to the alley. ‘Now Servius,’ he hissed.
Instantly five men scaled the ladders, then crouched and leant back down to help their comrades. Once all fifteen were on the roof, the ladders were pulled up after them and they split into three groups.
As they disappeared from his vision Magnus went back to join his party. ‘Tigran and Vahram, get our guest ready.’
The Armenian cousins pulled back the leather sheet and, with a degree of difficulty, hefted Blandinus out of the cart and supported him between them, an arm around each shoulder.
Faint shouts and screams suddenly emanated from within the Albanians’ establishment. ‘Right, they’re in,’ Magnus whispered looking at the two Armenians. ‘When I give you the signal you run around the corner hollering in Albanian for all you’re worth that the place is under attack and you’ve brought a wounded man from round the back. We’ll be twenty paces behind you so you won’t have long to hold the door once you’ve killed the doormen. Don’t worry if you drop matey-boy here, he won’t feel a thing and we’ll pick him up.’
Tigran and Vahram grinned and nodded.
Good boys, Magnus thought as he peered around the corner, could be useful in the future. The doormen had now heard the fighting and were knocking violently on the door. Magnus heard the bolt slam back. ‘Now!’
The Armenians leapt around the corner, dragging Blandinus between them, shouting in an incomprehensible language. The two doormen glanced up at them in alarm and then at each other. They pulled the cudgels from their belts and one stepped through the now open door whilst the other held his position, with a puzzled look on his face, keeping the door clear for his comrades approaching from the shadows shouting for help in his own language. By the time they were close enough for him to make out their features, it was too late. He died looking into a stranger’s eyes with an unforeseen blade in his heart.
Magnus hurtled
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