Chapter 1
by Douglas, Lloyd C.Marcellus responded eagerly to his father’s elevated mood. It was almost as if the shrewd Marcus Lucan Gallio had firmly settled the unhappy affair with Gaius. He opened the door for the Senator to precede him. In the atrium, leaning against a column, lounged Demetrius. Coming smartly to attention he saluted with his spear and followed a few paces behind the two men as they strolled through the vasty rooms and out to the spacious western portico.
‘Rather unusual for Demetrius to be loitering in the atrium,’ remarked Marcellus in a guarded undertone.
‘Perhaps he was standing there,’ surmised Gallio, ‘to discourage anyone else from loitering by the door.’
‘Do you think he may have had a special reason for taking that precaution?’
‘Possibly. He was with you at the banquet; knows that you gave offense to Gaius; concludes that you are in disfavor; and, by adding it all up, thinks it is time to be vigilant.’
‘Shall I ask him if he suspects that there are spies in the house?’ suggested Marcellus.
Gallio shook his head.
‘If he observes anything irregular, he will tell you, my son.’
‘I wonder who this is coming.’ Marcellus nodded toward a uniformed Equestrian Knight who had just turned in from the Via Aurelia. ‘We’re to be honored,’ he growled. ‘It is Quintus, the younger Tuscus. The Prince has been seeing much of him lately, I hear.’
The youthful Tribune, followed by a well-mounted aide, rode briskly toward them; and, neglecting to salute, drew a gilded scroll from the belt of his tunic.
‘I am ordered by His Highness, Prince Gaius, to deliver this message into the hands of Tribune Marcellus Lucan Gallio,’ he barked, haughtily. The aide, who had dismounted, carried the scroll up the steps and handed it over.
‘His Highness might do well to employ messengers with better manners,’ drawled Marcellus. ‘Are you to await an answer?’
‘Imperial commands require obedience; not replies!’ shouted Quintus. He pulled his horse about savagely, dug in his spurs, and made off, pursued by his obsequious aide.
‘Gaius is prompt,’ commented the Senator. There was satisfaction on his face as he watched his son’s steady hands, and the cool deliberateness with which he drew his dagger and thrust the point of it through the wax. Unrolling the ostentatious document, Marcellus held it at an angle where his father might share its contents. Gallio read it aloud, in a rasping undertone.