Chapter 5
I hid my start at the man’s response. “I do not know. I have only heard the name. What has this Herminius done?”
Tatius leapt to his feet, sending scrolls rolling across the tabletop.
“He is a swindler and a thief. Ask Herminius what happened to the shipment my agent was to receive in Ancyra, after I paid to have it transported all the way across Parthia. Vanished it did, to turn up in one of his warehouses. No one knows why, and I have yet to be compensated.”
“Herminius kept it?” I asked in surprise. If he did, it was blatant theft, subject to dire punishment. I briefly wondered if the manager called Fulvius, who was determined to ruin Lucius, had diverted the shipment, or if Lucius himself had before fleeing to Rome.
“Sold it on for a good profit, didn’t he?
” Spittle flecked Tatius’s lips. “Herminius claimed he accepted the shipment from his agent in good faith and had no idea it was mine. I’ll be paid when he collects all the moneys from the various customers who purchased it, he says.
A percentage only, because he went to the trouble of warehousing it, delivering it to and paying the weavers …
Which means, once he has taken all the expenses, I will have nothing. ”
Tatius smacked the top of the desk, scrolls and tablets dancing. The assistant who’d admitted us did not move to right things but nodded along, as angry as his master.
“How can Herminius have taken a whole shipment?” I asked. “Someone must have noticed.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they did, young man. I am certain coins changed hands for people to look the other way. This is not the first time Herminius has tried such a scheme, using his men in the far reaches of the east to do it, only the first time it happened to me. Tell Sextus Livius to stay far away.”
Again, I wondered if Lucius had been paid to help steal the shipment, or if he’d done it of his own initiative. He claimed he’d traveled with such caravans across Parthia—he’d have been in place to instigate the theft.
Or had Lucius been unaware of Herminius’s duplicity? Was Herminius himself unaware of it, because it was Fulvius’s doing?
Perhaps Lucius discovered the ruse and threatened Fulvius with his knowledge. That would better explain why Fulvius had urged Herminius to send brutes after Lucius, rather than the anger of a jealous rival.
I chafed to have Lucius in my grasp again, to shake out the truth.
“Who else has Herminius swindled?” I asked.
“A good number of men, I’d imagine,” Tatius answered testily. “What can the likes of you or I do about it?”
Nothing, most likely. “If the princeps found out …” I began.
Tatius snorted. “I suspect the princeps to have had a hand in the thing. Only the best silks for those on the Palatine. I’ve sold Nero the thinnest of cloths, dyed in the finest colors, including the purple only he can wear.
He wants the best for himself and his family, and he’ll go to extraordinary lengths to obtain it, including manipulating a merchant into stealing from others.
Anything to ensure he has first choice of fabric. ”
Tatius ran out of breath and thumped back to his seat. “Have no dealings with Julius Herminius,” he finished. “Or live to regret it.”
I heard Cassia behind me, stylus tapping rapidly on her tablet.
Tatius switched his gaze to her. “If you are making a report to the princeps, I have nothing to hide. Herminius is a swindler, pure and simple. What the man stole from me wasn’t meant for Nero.
It was only my profits for this half of the year, thank you very much.
What my wife and I will eat until the winter, I scarce know. ”
While I doubted a man who could afford silk cushions for his office couch would starve, I understood his frustration. If Herminius provided Nero with what he wanted, Herminius would have Nero’s protection, no matter what ill deeds he’d committed.
That also meant that if Herminius wanted Lucius dead, Nero could easily see to it. A few Praetorian Guards could arrest Lucius and kill him on the way to prison, claiming he’d resisted them.
I told myself that very few knew of Lucius’s connection to Xerxes and therefore Marcella, but it did not stop my growing worry. Praetorians could march anywhere to find anyone, and Marcella and her family might be rounded up with Lucius.
I tried to tamp down my disquiet. “Herminius is in Florentia,” I said. “Why wouldn’t the princeps deal with someone closer to home?”
“Herminius has warehouses all through this city and offices for his agents as well, including one across the hall.” Tatius pointed a long finger at the opening to the atrium.
“No one is there at the moment—Herminius is rarely in Rome, and his assistants come and go. Now.” He drew a breath.
“What does Livius Sextus wish to order?”
“I will have to consult with him,” I said quickly.
I’d have to explain to Livius why I’d invoked his name to help me gain information, which would be more difficult if a bundle of silk he was expected to pay for showed up on his doorstep.
“But I wager he won’t deal with Herminius. He has no use for crooks.”
“Herminius would try to swindle him too,” Tatius said darkly. “The man loves a wealthy client who doesn’t pay close attention to his expenses.”
“I will warn Livius,” I said. “Thank you for speaking to me.”
Cassia had drilled into me that a polite thank you and farewell worked wonders, especially if I ever needed to talk to that person again.
“I will keep myself available for his order,” Tatius said, the businessman in him returning. “I am here every day until the eighth hour, except for public festivals. He can make an appointment with Aulus.” He gestured toward his assistant.
“I will tell him,” I said. “Good day.”
“Good day to you.” Tatius sent me a tight nod. “See them out, Aulus.”
His assistant readily led us to the door. As we went, I heard Tatius muttering behind me. “Rich men who hire gladiators. I ask you.”
We crossed the atrium, the coolness from marble tiles seeping through my sandals. I glanced at the opening opposite Tatius’s, but all was dark inside, and I saw no one there.
The assistant, Aulus, his face twitching again, strode out into the daylight, and Cassia and I could only follow. Thick clouds gathered on the horizon, but sunshine fell harshly on the city itself.
Without a word, Aulus turned and marched back into the building, leaving us alone. He moved with an even stride that spoke of training, and I suspected I was right that he’d been a legionnaire.
Cassia tucked away her tablets. “An informative conversation. I think we should visit the warehouse next.”
Without waiting for me to agree, she turned south along the Viscus Tuscus, the crowd quickly swallowing her.
When we reached the Horrea Agrippina, we found an altercation in progress.
A largish man was trying to push his way into one section of the giant warehouse while three Praetorian guards strove to prevent him.
“It is mine,” the large man shouted. “You can’t keep me out.”
The three guards apparently believed they could.
“I am Marcus Flavinus Mena,” the man insisted. “That is my property in there. I want it.”
One Praetorian pinned him with a stern gaze. “It has been confiscated. Suspected smuggled goods.”
“Smuggled?” Mena jerked in shock. “What are you talking about? I imported those silks legally. Who told you it was smuggled?”
“Lucius Anneaus Seneca.”
Mena’s eyes widened until they bulged. “Seneca? Jupiter’s balls, that scheming conniving …”
He broke off as the Praetorian gave him a shove. “Out. Take it up with Seneca.”
Mena’s sandals slipped in the dust, and he started to fall. I put out quick hands to steady him, keeping him to his feet.
Mena swung to me, whatever he intended to snarl dying on his lips.
“Leonidas the Gladiator?” he asked, stunned.
“Minerva, what a day this is. Barred from my own warehouse because of that double-dealing snake, Seneca, and kept from falling on my arse by the most famous gladiator in Rome.” He looked me up and down.
“I thank you, dear fellow. Come with me, and I’ll stand you a cup of wine, maybe give you a coin for your trouble. ”
“No need,” I began, but I felt a poke in my ribs.
Cassia stood silently at my side, her cloak hiding most of her face. Her nudge had been swift as well as hard, yet no one had caught it but me.
I sent Mena an arrogant stare, as a gladiator would, and said grudgingly, “Fine.”
A popina across the road was emptying as people went to the baths, but Mena began to trudge around the base of the Palatine.
A few domii dotted the lower slopes of this hill, but since the time of Augustus, the top of the Palatine had been taken over by the princeps and his family.
The patricians who’d called the Palatine home during the Republic had been gradually forced to move to other hills or out of the city altogether.
Some of the older families had managed to hold on to homes that lined the lower Palatine.
The houses themselves were nearly hidden from the streets by rows of shops built right into the front wall of each domus.
Patricians long ago had realized that they could bring in income by renting out the long facade of their homes to shopkeepers and tavern landlords.
Mena led us to a popina of one of these domii, whose interior was far cleaner than the one I usually frequented. The landlord gave Mena a respectful nod and had wine on the table the moment we sat down.
Cassia disappeared. While slaves were not barred from popinae, Mena would be startled by her presence or at least disapproving. Cassia would take this chance to shop or seek some interesting gossip, which I’d learn about later.
The wine placed in front of me proved to be palatable. I sipped it in stony silence, which I’d learned made people open up to me more than my questions.
Mena stretched out his swollen feet and sighed heavily. “I ought to have known better than to trust a Stoic philosopher and playwright. Well, I have paid the price.”