The Emperor Series Books 1-4. Conn Iggulden

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       CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

      The Cinna estate began the bustle of the working day as early as any other in Rome, heating water, firing the ovens, sweeping, cleaning and readying the clothes of the family before they awoke. Before the sun had risen fully, a slave entered Cornelia's room, looking round for clothes to be collected for washing. Her thoughts were on the thousand chores to be completed before the mid-morning light meal and at first she noticed nothing. Then her eyes strayed to where a muscled leg sprawled over the side of the bed. She froze as she saw the sleeping couple, still entwined.

      After a moment of indecision, her eyes lit up with malice and she took a deep breath, cracking the still scene with wild screams.

      Gaius rolled naked off the bed and onto the floor in a crouch. He took in the situation in a second, but didn't waste any time on cursing himself. He grabbed toga and sword and bolted for the window. The slave girl ran to the door, still screaming, and Cornelia spat oaths after her. Thundering footsteps sounded, and the nurse Clodia came into the room, her face full of outrage. She swung her hand and connected with the slave girl's face, cutting off the scream with a dull smack of flesh and spinning her right round.

      ‘Get out quickly, lad,’ Clodia snapped at him as the slave girl whimpered on the floor. ‘You'd better be worth all the trouble this is going to cause!’

      Gaius nodded, but turned from the window and came back into the room to Cornelia.

      ‘If I don't go, they'll kill me for an intruder. Tell them my name and tell them you're mine, that I'll marry you. Tell them, if anyone harms you I'll kill him.’

      Cornelia didn't answer, just reached up and kissed him.

      He pulled away, laughing. ‘Gods, let me go! It is a fine morning for a bit of a chase.’

      She watched with amusement as his white buttocks flashed over the windowsill and away, trying to compose herself for the drama to come.

      Her father's guards entered the room first, led by the dour captain who nodded to her and crossed to the window, looking down.

      ‘Get going,’ he shouted to his companions. ‘I'll cross the roofs after him, you men intercept him down below. I'll have his skin on my wall for this. Your pardon, lady,’ he said as a farewell to Cornelia as his red face dropped out of sight.

      Cornelia fought not to giggle with tension.

      Gaius slipped and skittered on the tiles, scraping skin from elbows and knees as he sacrificed safety for breakneck speed. He heard the captain shouting behind him, but didn't look back. The tiles offered precious little grip and all he could really do was control the speed of his fall as he slid towards the edge and the street below. He had time to swear as he realised his sandals were in the room above. How could he make any kind of jump in only his bare feet? He'd break bones for sure and then the chase would be over. He lost his grip on the toga to save the gladius, by far the more valuable of the two items. He managed to cling to the edge of the roof and inched along it, not risking standing up in case archers were waiting for him. It would not be unusual for a man of Cinna's wealth to have a small army on his estate, much as Marius had.

      Crouching low, he knew he was out of sight to the swearing, puffing captain behind him and Gaius looked around desperately for a way out of the predicament. He had to get off the roof. If he stayed, they would simply search each part of it until they found him and either pitch him off onto his head or drag him before Cinna for punishment. With the heat of betrayal on him, Cinna would be deaf to pleas and death would quickly follow for the charge of rape. In fact, Gaius realised Cinna would not even have to bring charges, he would simply summon a lictor and have the man execute Gaius on the spot. If Cinna was of a mind to, he could have Cornelia strangled to save the honour of his house, though Gaius knew the old man doted on his only daughter. If he had genuinely believed she would suffer, he would have stayed to fight it out, but he thought she would be safe enough against old Cinna's rage.

      Down below, where the roof overhung the street, Gaius could hear shouting as the house guards formed a ring that blocked all the exits. Behind him, the scrabbling of iron-shod sandals on tiles was getting closer and so he took a deep breath to calm himself and ran, hoping his speed and balance would keep him on the treacherous surface long enough to find safety. The guard captain cried out in recognition as he broke cover, but Gaius didn't have time to look back. The nearest roof was too far away to leap onto and the only flat place on the whole complex was a bell tower with a small window.

      He made the sill with a desperate jump as his legs finally lost all grip and he heaved himself up and over it, panting in great gulps of the cold morning air. The bell room was tiny, with steps leading down inside it to the main house below. At first, Gaius was tempted to run down them, but then a plan surfaced in his mind and he steadied his breathing and stretched a few muscles as he waited for the captain to reach the window.

      Moments after his decision to stay, the man blocked the sunlight and his face lit up at the sight of the young man cornered in the bell house. They looked at each other for a moment and Gaius watched with interest as the thought of being killed as he climbed in crossed the other man's face. Gaius nodded to him and stood well back to allow him entrance.

      The captain grinned nastily at him, panting from the run.

      ‘You should have killed me while you had the chance,’ he said, drawing his sword.

      ‘You would have fallen off the roof and I need your clothes – especially those sandals,’ Gaius replied calmly, unsheathing his own gladius and standing relaxed, apparently unaware of his nakedness.

      ‘Will you tell me your name before I kill you? Just so I have something to tell my master, you know,’ the captain said, moving lightly into a fighter's crouch.

      ‘Will you give me your clothes? This is too fine a morning for killing,’ СКАЧАТЬ