Mira (17 page)

           
Rillan noted the new buildings and streets in the town since the last time he was there.
 
Each time he ventured into this godforsaken city it was larger, louder, and more depraved.
 
Still, even with the expansion of the city, the inner streets were the same.
 
Keeping to the shadows, he worked his way through the newer alleyways, into the older streets and toward the domi of the senators.
 

           
Tonight was for scouting.
 
Rillan established a routine long ago.
 
He walked the streets near the senators’ domi, reminding himself of the locations of various landmarks.
 
There was a time when he could have called this place home.
 

           
There was one stop he needed to make.
 
Easily picking his way through the rat infested alleyways, Rillan found himself staring at a rotted wooden door.
 
Lightly rapping on the door he feared it might break in half and fall in.
 
There was no answer.

           
This was the last chance for the druids to revoke the decision they made in sending Rillan to assassinate Tiberius.
 
Rillan closed his eyes and concentrated.
 
He couldn’t smell or hear anything from behind the door, at least nothing beyond the rest of the human and rat waste that soiled the air in the alleyway.
 

           
Pushing gently on the poor excuse for a door, half concerned that anything stronger would be the end of the entryway, Rillan walked in.
 
He checked the room over for signs that anyone had been there recently.
 
He was fairly certain that he wouldn’t find the marking which meant that his assignment was canceled.
 
Still he felt obligated to look. The small store room was littered with broken and crumbling wooden barrels.
 
There were piles of debris scattered about the room.
 
Rillan didn’t even want to guess what may be hiding beneath the foul smelling piles.
 

           
Leaving the back room
,
he walked through to what, in a different age, had been the best shop in town.
 
Mosaics with missing tiles and crumbling furniture decorated a decaying sitting room.
 
He checked the front of the shop as a matter of course.
 
There was no one to be found. Signs of habitation, recently evacuated, disturbed the dust on the stone floors.
 
But that was the extent of the excitement in the place.

           
Rillan returned to the abandoned store room.
 
Picking his way through the mess to a back corner
,
he kicked some debris off into the darkness.
 
A clattering sound from the disturbed clutter caught his attention and Rillan noticed a small round black thing rolling across the floor.
 
Momentarily distracted from his mission, he walked after it and picked it up.
  
Staring at the small bead in his hand, Rillan realized he was holding a black pearl.

           
I wonder how long that’s been waiting in this chaos to be found.
 
It was relatively small and easily over looked.
 
If it hadn’t gone rolling across the floor, he would have mistaken the little gem for a stone or just another speck of dirt on the floor.
 
He chuckled.
 
Maybe anyone else who saw it thought it to be shit.
 
Rillan suddenly found himself thinking of Mira.
 
A rare speck of beauty amongst rotting darkness.

           
Rillan carefully placed the small pearl in his pocket and went back to the place on the floor where he started.
 
Kneeling he traced the edge of one stone tile and, finding a notch in the side, lifted it from the floor.
 
Beneath it, Rillan found a shallow indent.
 
I didn’t think so,
he thought, replacing the stone.
 
If the mission were to have been revoked, he would have found a letter or some means of marking within the hiding place.
 
To date he had never been called off his task once he started.

           
Having established that he was still in play, he retraced his steps and returned to the large inn he passed on the way into town to get a room.
 
Upon entering the inn
,
Rillan realized that he could count on one hand the number of men in breeches in the main room.
 
There was an obvious distinction and segregation.
 
The men wearing breeches and shirts sat together at a table in one corner of the main room.
 
Judging by the clean look of their boots and the white of their shirts, Rillan figured that they were probably fairly wealthy.
 
They sat quietly conversing.
 

           
The men in togas and kilts boisterously circulated throughout the room.
 
A good number of them were accompanied by scantily clad women.
 
A virtual orgy was starting at the far end of the large long table in the center of the room.
 
A couple fair skinned women, sitting on either knee of a soldier wearing a battered but ornate breastplate and spaulders were being undressed by soldiers standing to either side of the one seated.
 
One of the men was groping the woman he was undressing.
 
His hand roughly squeezed her breast and lifted it toward his face as he leaned down to wrap his mouth around the woman’s large brown nipple.
 

           
Rillan turned away in disgust, looking for the innkeeper.
 
As if on cue, a fat, greasy, bare-chested man in a dirty toga waddled up to Rillan, eyeing him up and down with distaste.
 
His eyes finally lingered on the gold clasp affixing Rillan’s cloak.
 
Suddenly, the man’s demeanor shifted, and he appeared much friendlier.
 
“Can I be of service to you, barbarian?”

           
Rillan smiled at the condescending tone in the man’s voice.
 
Barbarian?
 
Rillan scoffed openly.
 
“How much for a room for the week,” Rillan replied, in a hard intimidating tone.

           
The greasy innkeeper shifted uncomfortably and answered with more respect.
 
“One sestertius for the week.”

           
Reaching into his purse, Rillan pulled out two silver coins. “I’m not to be disturbed,” he said, placing the two coins in the man’s grubby hand.

           
Turning them over in his hand the innkeeper examined the old coins.
 
The senator’s head on the coin was turned the wrong way.
 
He looked questioningly at Rillan, held one coin to his mouth and bit down.
 
Silver is silver.
 
“As you like it,” the man said, once he was satisfied with the authenticity of the money. He waved a hand, signaling a girl to join them.
 
The girl’s round, brown eyes reminded him of Mira, but spoke of the south, while her narrow face was distinctly of the druid nations.
 
She smiled warmly at Rillan.
 
“Arial, take this man to a room.
 
Make sure he has everything he requires.”

           
The irony of that statement,
Rillan thought as he followed the pretty girl.
 
She led him out a door in the back of the main room into a poorly kempt courtyard open to the sky.
 
It was surrounded on all sides by columns, propping up an overhang forming a peristyle.
 
Beyond the columns were numerous doors, most of which were closed.
 
Rillan could hear the distinct sounds of rough sex coming from behind various doors.
 
He walked with Arial through the center of the courtyard, around a water filled basin, and past the columns directly across from the main building.
 
Choosing a door that was slightly ajar
,
Arial stepped into the small room ahead of Rillan.
 
There was only an unmade bed in the small room.
 
It smelled of rancid wine, urine, and other things that Rillan didn’t even want to contemplate.
 
Even knowing that his nose was more sensitive than humans, he wondered at a person’s ability to sleep in this.

           
“You come to be used to it,” Arial said softly, when she noticed the look in Rillan’s eyes.

           
He faced her and shook his head sympathetically.
 
“It’s enough to make me think sleeping in the stables would be more pleasant.
 
No one should have to grow used to it.”

           
A sad expression came over her.
 
“Some have no alternative.”
 
Arial suddenly snapped back to being sweet and comely, as if she remembered that she should be smiling at the wealthy man in front of her.
 
She stepped up to Rillan and ran a gentle hand across the bulge in the front of his pants.
 
“Is there anything else you require?
 
Dinner?
 
Wine? Company?”
 
Arial’s experienced fingers traced along Rillan’s rapidly growing shaft.

           
This was the first time he thought of sex since he left Mira.
 
He hated the way he parted with her. Arial’s attention made him acutely aware of how used to sleeping with a woman he had become.
 
Sighing, he took hold of Arial’s wrist, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her softly on her palm.
 
Staring into her eyes, Rillan could see a hopeful glimmer.
 
“I’m afraid that I’ll not be needing company this night Arial.”
 
Disappointment clouded her pretty brown eyes.
 
You’d not be so upset if you truly knew me, sweet one.

           
“I guess I should go to the other guests then,” she said regretfully.
 

           
At that
,
Rillan realized what that would mean.
 
Pulling another sestertius out of his purse, he placed it in her hand before releasing her wrist.
 
“Have this night to yourself.”

           
Arial stared in wonder at the coin, speechless.
 
She shoved the coin into a hidden pocket in her sarong, as if someone would see it and try to take it.
 

           
The grateful smile on her face was more than Rillan could handle.
 
He decided to change the subject, before she started talking.
 
“Tell me who a man speaks with, if he wants to know the goings on of the senate.”

           
“That depends,” Arial said. Her innocent demeanor seemed to melt from her, the sweet innocent stare she perfected belied more than Rillan could have guessed.
 
“What kind of goings on are you interested in.”

           
“I want to find out what a senator does all day.”

           
“That makes no sense.
 
Anyone could tell you that the senators attended meetings all day.
 
You must be wanting something more specific than that.”

           
Rillan reached into his purse again and pulled out a denarius.
 
He held it up in front of Arial, watching her eyes focus on the coin.
 
“I guess I am looking for some fairly specific information.
 
And I don’t want anyone to know that I’m looking for it.”

           
Arial nodded, staring past the shining golden coin to Rillan’s face, the innocence now completely gone from her features.
 
“What do you want to know,” she said quietly, reaching for the coin.

           
Rillan let her get her hand around it, but didn’t release it.
 
“I need someone who can tell me what Tiberius Caelius Novanus does day and night.
 
Who he’s with.
 
Where he goes.”

           
“You need a member of his personal staff.
 
It’s not as if that information is secret.
 
If you waited around outside his gates you would see him come and go.”
 
Arial sounded almost disappointed that his question hadn’t been more interesting.
 
“He leads a fairly public life.”

           
During the day
, he thought.
 
Sometimes I hate the sun.
 
More and more often of late.
 
“I don’t want to be seen watching him.”
 
Rillan started to take the coin out of her hand.
 
“If you can’t help me—“

           
“I know just the person you need,” Arial said quickly and snatched the coin out of his hand.