The Furies of Rome by Robert Fabbri Page B

was unarmed. ‘If you do then things will go badly for your friend here.’
    ‘What if he ain’t our friend? What if we really don’t like him?’
    ‘What if we really don’t care for the boy? What if we could well afford to lose a slave born on the estate? A slave we haven’t even had to pay for.’
    ‘Slave? If this is a slave then you’re far too generous with your clothing; his tunic is very finely spun.’
    ‘I like my boys to be well dressed; now I suggest we have a simple exchange of prisoners and be on our separate ways.’
    ‘I’m not a slave,’ Domitian shrieked; his high voice sharp with indignation. ‘Tell them to let me go, Father, and then crucify them.’
    ‘Father, eh?’ the man holding Domitian said with a leer, picking the boy up off his feet and looking closely at his face. ‘Well, well; looks like we’ve struck lucky, Tralles.’
    ‘It certainly does, Cadmus,’ his bow-wielding companion agreed, ‘it certainly does.’
    ‘So that leaves us in a very interesting position, I’d say. I wonder what those fine gentlemen up the hill think.’
    Vespasian took another few paces forward. ‘Where do you come from and what do you want?’
    ‘I don’t think that you’re in the position to be asking us questions,’ Cadmus observed, allowing Domitian’s feet to touch the ground again. ‘But seeing as you did ask, we want you to release our mate and then we’ll start talking about how much you’re prepared to pay for this little runt.’
    ‘If you think that I would be that stupid then we could be here for quite some time. Here’s what I’m prepared to do: you release my son and I’ll release your mate.’
    ‘And how do we profit from that?’
    ‘With your lives. Harm my son and you’ll be dead within a hundred heartbeats; sorry, you’ll be caught in that time and then you’ll start dying. You’ll be dead within five hours, perhaps a few more.’
    Cadmus laughed, hollow and without mirth. ‘You’ll not catch us; once we’re across the gully and on that hill we’ll travel much faster than you ever could.’
    ‘I’m sure you will if you get across the gully; but can you do that before the dogs catch you? Unless I’m completely mistaken, you’re on foot; you won’t make it and you’ll suffer a very unpleasant last few hours.’
    Cadmus looked at his companion whose bow began to waver as if he were not sure where to aim it.
    Vespasian pressed his case, taking advantage of their uncertainty. ‘So, it’s like this: touch the boy and you’re dead, release him and one of you will live whilst the other will have a swift death.’
    The two brigands stared back up the hill frowning as if they had not heard correctly.
    ‘That’s right,’ Vespasian said, ‘my terms have just gone up; because you seem unable to come to a sensible decision one of your lives is now forfeit and that’ll be the slowest of you.’ He pointed to Pollux still straining on his leash. ‘I’ll tell you what: I’ll make things easier for you. Titus, bring our friend here.’
    Titus brought the prisoner to his father who, without hesitation, pulled his knife from his scabbard and, yanking the man’s hair back, ripped his throat open and then stood, holding him up so his companions could see as the blood poured forth. ‘He was lucky,’ Vespasian shouted, ‘because that was an easy death.’
    This was too much for the brigands who turned and fled, dropping Domitian on his arse and loosing a wild shot that buried itself in the ground ten paces in front of Vespasian.
    Magnus slipped Pollux’s leash and the hound bounded off down the hill, barking deeply and accelerating at a considerable pace as Vespasian, Sabinus and Titus reached for their horses’ reins, remounted and moved off in a single motion. Magnus hurtled after them on foot.
    One glance at the four-legged hunter behind them was enough for Cadmus and Tralles to start hauling at one another, trying to make the other fall behind. With