The Dreams of Morpheus(5)

Magnus looked at the crowd of shopkeepers, traders, residents and businessmen before him, all from the South Quirinal. There were a lot of them, more than could fit into the room behind the tavern that he normally used for such meetings; hence they were grouped round the rough tables set outside at the apex of the acute junction between the Alta Semita and the Vicus Longus, both busy with morning trade. Such a large deputation could only mean one thing: it was a serious problem and he would have to solve it for them or lose considerable face, maybe even his position – or perhaps his life.

Magnus felt Servius shift his weight on the bench next to him.

‘Do you speak for everyone, Duilius?’ his counsellor asked, rubbing the loose wrinkled skin at his throat with claw-like hands.

‘I do.’

‘Then shall we three retire inside and discuss the matter in more comfort?’

‘No, Servius; all should witness the conversation.’

Magnus glanced at his counsellor; his rheumy eyes confirmed that this was indeed a serious problem that could not be ignored. He looked back at the delegation, steepled his hands and, leaning forward on the table, pressed them to his lips. ‘Speak, Duilius.’

‘For the last month or so we have been in receipt of short measures from the grain dole. We are entitled every market interval to one modius of grain per citizen, which normally fills a tub this big.’ He illustrated with his hands a tub about one foot across and not quite as tall. ‘However, recently the dole has often been one sextius short; not all the time, you understand, but a significant amount since we noticed and started checking.’

Magnus could see where this was going and he did not like it: he was headed for a clash with someone from the senatorial class. ‘You’re claiming that the aedile for this area is cheating you out of a sixteenth of your dole?’

‘Yes, Magnus. We think that he’s had some of the modius measures made smaller because the public slaves who distribute the grain still fill them all to the brim – and yet sometimes the measure is short. We know from acquaintances working in the granaries here in Rome and at Ostia that the stocks are dwindling and, until the first Egyptian grain fleet arrives next year, we are heading for a shortage, which always means higher prices. We believe that Publius Aufidius Brutus is skimming off the top of our dole and hording it for himself so as to sell it when the price inflates next year.’

Magnus nodded, able to see the logic in the aedile’s scheme; if it were true that Rome was heading for a shortage there would be fortunes to make in speculation.

‘Is this happening in other areas?’ Servius asked.

‘Does it matter? The fact is that it’s happening here, to us.’

Magnus turned to look at Servius. ‘Have any of the lads mentioned this to you?’

‘No, but if Brutus is clever, as I’m sure he is, then he wouldn’t try to cheat anyone that he knew was a member of the Brotherhood; he’ll make sure that the altered measures are only used at certain distribution points.’

Magnus grunted. ‘Well, he ain’t that clever; if he pisses off our people he pisses us off too.’

‘I imagine he will try to reach some sort of arrangement with us.’

Duilius cleared his throat. ‘That’s what we thought he would do, try to buy you off with a small percentage of the huge profit that he’s liable to make, then you and he will leave us to suffer.’

Magnus’ eyes hardened as he stood, almost pushing the bench over and Servius with it. ‘We take your money for two reasons, Duilius.’ He pointed to the altar of the Crossroads Lares embedded in the tavern’s walls; a flame burnt there constantly, tended by one of the brothers in turn. ‘First, to help service our sacred duty to the deities of this area, for the good of the whole community. Second, to protect you from outside interference. If you are being ripped off, then we will see justice done and not be bought off by the perpetrator, whomever it is – even if he comes from a family that has held the consulship. Do you understand me, Duilius? If I ever hear you questioning my honesty again things may not go so well for a few of your slaves and then how would your business be, if you take my meaning?’

Duilius held his hands up. ‘Forgive me, patronus; I didn’t mean to imply that you would take the bribe. I just meant that I thought you would be offered one.’

Magnus sat back down. ‘Very well.’ He looked round the crowd. ‘Is there anything else?’ There were negative murmurs and shakes of heads. ‘I’ll work out a way of having a private chat with Publius Aufidius Brutus and try to impress upon him the need to desist in this matter.’