The Dreams of Morpheus(9)

*

‘Magnus! you get prettier by the year.’

And you get slimmer by the year, Aetius.’ Magnus grasped his old comrade’s forearm and felt giving flesh where there once had been taut muscle. ‘Standards are really dropping in the Urban Cohorts if they allow figures like yours to parade under their banners.’

Aetius threw his bald head back and laughed, placing one hand on his ample belly. ‘I haven’t stood underneath a banner since they stopped making mail tunics that fitted me which, as quartermaster for the cohorts, was easy to organise.’ He swept his arm round his large, well-appointed office complete with mobile braziers, clerks and an oak desk of vulgar proportions. ‘When I re-enlisted for a further sixteen years I did so with a nice cosy and lucrative time in the stores in mind and none of that running up and down that the centurions seem so keen on.’

‘Quite right, old friend; all that running prevents a man from cultivating a decent paunch.’

Aetius gave Magnus a playful punch to the stomach. ‘Still firm; you must be doing a lot of running.’

‘Horizontally, Aetius, horizontally.’

‘I’m sure. But what can I do for you? I can’t recall being in your debt.’

‘You’re not; but how would you like me to be in yours?’

‘That, Magnus, would help me to sleep much easier at nights.’

Magnus pointed to his ear and indicated that Aetius should follow him outside away from eavesdroppers.

They walked out into the bright sunshine of an early autumnal day and crossed the courtyard of the Urban Cohorts’ newly constructed stores warehouse near the Tiber; the previous one having burnt down eight years before with, unfortunately, Aetius’ inventories and everything within. The fire had been a useful diversion for Magnus and his brothers who had business on the other side of the city and preferred to transact it without the interference of the Vigiles, whose main duty was firefighting. Convenient though it was for the Brotherhood it was a sad loss for the Urban Cohorts. However, having had plenty of warning of the blaze, in that it was Aetius himself who had set it at Magnus’ request, Magnus was very confident that not much of value had remained for the flames – apart from the precious inventories, that was.

They turned left out of the gate in order to avoid the reek of the tanneries along the riverbank; Sextus and Marius, who had been waiting outside, followed at a discreet distance.

As they entered the open space of the Forum Boarium in the shadow of the Circus Maximus, Magnus put an arm round his old comrade’s shoulders. ‘What’s the difference between a civil modius measure and a military one?’

‘Not much; both are bronze and both have the inscription acknowledging imperial regulation of weights and measures. The only difference would be that a military one has the legion, cohort and century to which it has been issued engraved upon it.’

‘But if it hasn’t been issued?’

‘Then it wouldn’t have a military engraving on it.’

‘That’s what I thought. I’ll take a dozen.’

‘A dozen? But these things are tightly regulated; they remain the property of the Emperor. They have to be signed in and out.’

‘I wasn’t for a moment thinking of having the Emperor’s. That could get us into serious trouble; I was planning to have yours.’

‘Mine?’

‘Yes, why not?’ Magnus’ grip tightened round Aetius’ shoulders. ‘I imagine quite a few were sadly destroyed in that fire all those years ago; I just want a dozen of them.’

‘I’ve only got half a dozen left.’

‘They’ll have to do then. How would you make them one sextius short?’

‘Put a false bottom in, of course.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘I’ve got a man who could do all six in a day, no questions asked.’

‘You sound confident.’

‘He’s done it before.’

Magnus stopped. ‘When?’

‘A couple of months ago.’

‘Who for?’

Aetius shrugged. ‘I don’t know; the deal was through a series of intermediaries. I only do business face to face with a very few trusted associates like yourself. There’s no way that I can find out who it was, Magnus, unless I jeopardise my anonymity and reputation for discretion.’

‘You don’t need to, my friend. Have the measures delivered tomorrow morning at the latest, but tell your man not to make too good a job of the false bottoms; I need them to be visible.’

‘They’re never exact.’

‘Good.’

Aetius rubbed his thumb against his fingers. ‘And what about, you know.’