The Racing Factions Read Free

records?’
    The slave’s face screwed up even further. ‘They’re written on wax, master, the two Xs can be scraped clean leaving just the V.’
    ‘What’s your name, boy?’
    ‘Menes, master.’
    Magnus released his grip. ‘If you know what’s good for you, Menes, you won’t mention our little chat to Ignatius. Now piss off.’
    Menes scuttled away and disappeared into the crowd.
    Sextus frowned. ‘So did we get the right money or not, Magnus? I mean, can I still have a couple of whores tonight?’
    ‘No, brother, we did not, but we will; and until we do you’ll just have to make do with one.’
    ‘Do you think the slave’s lying?’ Marius asked, sitting in Menes’ place.
    ‘No, brother; I think that Ignatius’ dishonesty means that he has just unwittingly declared war on the South Quirinal Crossroads Brotherhood.’
    ‘That’s very foolish of him.’
    ‘Very.’ Magnus stood. ‘Come on, lads, we don’t want to be late for our senator.’
    ‘Magnus, my friend, I trust you’ve had luck?’ Senator Gaius Vespasius Pollo boomed, waddling down the steps from the senators’ enclosure in a flurry of wobbling belly, jowls and chins.
    ‘Quite the opposite, senator.’ Magnus took up his position in front of his patron, the man to whom he owed his life, with his brothers at either shoulder, ready to beat a path for him through the departing race-goers disgorging into the urine-scented, cavernous belly of the Circus Maximus.
    ‘That’s what comes of just betting on your beloved Greens without paying any attention to form.’
    ‘Once a Green, always a Green, sir.’
    Gaius’ full, moist lips broke into a grin as he pushed away a carefully tonged curl of hair from his eye. ‘I find it much better to have no such affiliations; it gives me far more room for manoeuvre and a better chance of backing the winning team. That, of course, goes for politics as well as racing.’
    ‘I admire your lack of loyalty, sir.’ Magnus shoved a slow-moving, old man out of the way as they emerged through an arch into the Forum Boarium where the four Racing Factions had their race-day camps; horses and wagonloads of chariots trailed out, heading back to their permanent bases on the Campus Martius, north of the city. The fading, late-afternoon light washed the grand marble buildings on the Palatine above them with a warm glow, despite the dropping temperature.
    ‘I reserve my loyalty for family, patrons and my clients, such as yourself; it’s generally wasted elsewhere.’
    ‘Except on the Greens.’
    Gaius laughed. ‘Have it your own way, Magnus. If it makes you happy to lose your money needlessly, who am I to dissuade you? In the meantime, I have a favour to ask.’
    Magnus stopped for a few moments, giving way to a party of higher status. ‘Of course, patronus.’
    Gaius nodded at the passing senator, one of this year’s praetors, preceded by his fasces-bearing lictors. ‘As you know, my eldest nephew, Sabinus, has failed for the last two years to get elected as a quaestor; obviously I can’t allow that state of affairs to continue.’
    ‘Indeed not.’
    ‘I have to make sure that he gets in this time because next year his younger brother, your friend Vespasian, will be old enough to stand and I certainly won’t be able to afford two sets of bribes; not to mention the friction it’ll cause in their already strained relationship.’
    ‘Surely your patron, the Lady Antonia, could help; the support of the Emperor Tiberius’ sister-in-law for Sabinus would be invaluable.’
    ‘I’m nervous about asking her to involve herself in matters, like quaestor elections, so far beneath her.’
    ‘She involves herself with some matters way beneath her.’
    Gaius chuckled. ‘She’s always loved a boxer; is she still demanding your services?’
    Magnus grunted. ‘Yeah, well, now and again I get a summons.’
    ‘I’ve made an appointment to see her tomorrow morning concerning another issue and I wouldn’t want to make