‘Continue with the sacrifice.’
A second bull was brought forward and the ceremony resumed. From his place by the pillars Valerius saw a small olive-skinned man approach Otho and recognized the patrician’s freedman, Onomastus. The former slave did most of the talking and Otho nodded gravely. When they’d finished their discussion Otho approached Laco in a way that was almost submissive, bowing to the Praetorian prefect and shaking hands before drifting to the side of the temple and making his way to the gate.
Valerius pushed his way towards Laco. ‘I see Marcus Salvius Otho has left. Is something troubling him?’
Laco glared at him. ‘If there was, I’m sure you would know better than I. Some foolishness about a new house and meeting the builders. A new slight to the Emperor that I will be sure to report. The man never did have any manners.’
Valerius thanked him equally tersely and considered what he’d been told. If Otho had bought a new house it was the first he’d heard of it, and given his precarious financial position it seemed an unlikely tale. On the other hand, it could be something perfectly innocent that Otho didn’t want to air in public. Yet every instinct told him something wasn’t right. Careful not to be noticed, he slipped away from the temple to the guardhouse at the top of the Clivus Palatinus where he had arranged to meet Serpentius. He found the Spaniard sitting in the shade of a cypress tree talking to Juva, the big Nubian from the naval militia. His quarry was about to be swallowed by the crowd on the Via Sacra; there was no time for pleasantries. ‘I want you to follow Otho. I need to know who he meets and where he goes.’
Serpentius was on his way before Valerius had finished speaking. Juva started after him, then called out as Valerius turned to go back up the hill. ‘There is something you should know. The militia has been summoned to the Praetorian barracks. Someone came this morning with an order releasing us from arrest.’
Juva disappeared after the Spaniard, leaving Valerius with another puzzle. Galba had rescinded his order to send the sailors and marines directly back to their base at Misenum and agreed to reconsider their case. But why would he order them to the Praetorian barracks, where a single word could reignite the violence of the Milvian Bridge? The only way he would find out was by asking Vinius or Laco, and that would have to wait until after the ceremony.
He started back towards the Temple of Jupiter with a growing feeling that his world was about to fall apart.
XIX
Serpentius slipped so easily through the crowds awaiting the outcome of the divination that Juva had trouble staying with him. Only the Nubian’s great height allowed him to keep the Spaniard in sight till he caught up. Otho remained fifty paces ahead with Onomastus and two of his lictors as they passed the House of the Vestals and the Regia.
‘If we end up in the open, drop back,’ the gladiator muttered from the side of his mouth. ‘You’re a bit too conspicuous for this kind of work. Following people is an art.’
Juva shrugged. ‘I thought I might be some help if you got into trouble, old man.’
‘If I wasn’t on business, I’d cut your balls off and make you eat them for saying that. Maybe later.’
‘You could try,’ Juva growled. The big man continued to watch Otho’s progress. ‘He’s turned left. Do you think he’s going to the rostrum?’
Serpentius glanced up at the black man. ‘Maybe you are good for something after all.’
He increased his pace. They were in the very heart of the Forum, in the shadow of the Capitoline Hill, with the great bulk of the tabularium off to their right and the Rostrum Julium with its captured ships’ beaks to their left. Serpentius expected Otho to carry on towards the law courts in the Basilica Julia, which would be crowded with lawyers, prosecutors, jurors, the guilty and the not quite guilty, but the former governor of Lusitania stopped by the ‘golden milestone’ in front of the Temple of Saturn. Serpentius noticed immediately what another man would not. A group of around twenty men dressed in cloaks stood by the temple steps and their wary, tense faces and the way they carried themselves marked them immediately as soldiers. As he drew closer he recognized Mevius Pudens, a tribune of the Guard, at their forefront.
‘Trouble,’ he whispered to Juva. ‘You watch our backs.’
He edged nearer as Pudens and another of the waiting men approached Otho and began a short, animated conversation. He heard the words ‘late’ and ‘hurry’. But Otho seemed paralysed. He waved an incredulous hand at the group by the steps as if he couldn’t believe how few they were.