Age of Treason Page #9

my apartment if you want it,

and whatever remains

of Helena's cash is yours.

Fortunately, my debts

will die with me.

-Falco!

-Please.

I worked on that speech all night.

Let's just leave it there, eh?

Justus, if you alone should

manage to survive all this,

then I want you to give this

to Garrus when he returns.

And know that if you're not

the son of a king,

then you ought to be.

Now out of here, both of you.

It's almost time.

But I don't trust Petro.

Neither do I,

but we have no choice.

-MAN:
Stay where you are!

-Citizen!

Marcus Didius Falco,

in the name of the Emperor Vespasian

and the Praetorian Guard,

you are under arrest.

(LIVELY MUSIC PLAYING)

There was a time when I could

keep up with a girl like that.

-But, um...

-Oh, I'm sure she'd be willing to oblige,

if Caesar would like to find out.

Anyway, I'm much more interested in

this surprise you've got planned for me.

Or do you really think I don't know

what goes on in my own house?

Even an emperor should be

entitled to a few surprises.

But since you've unmasked me,

bring on the gladiators!

Wait till you see

this, Father.

It's a contest certain to start

a fire in any man's blood.

-She'll probably win, too.

-"She"?

Don't tell me you've found

a woman gladiator.

Not just "a" woman gladiator,

"the" woman gladiator.

-MAN:
Let the contest begin!

-A true Amazon queen.

(DRUMS POUNDING)

(TRUMPETS HERALDING)

So that's why you came last night,

to try and weaken me here, eh?

-Druida, please, no. Listen to me.

-No!

We'll do our talking

with these now.

"We who are about to die

salute you."

He looks awfully big for her,

doesn't he?

Nonsense! Five hundred

sesterces says she has him down

before you finish

that goblet of wine.

I'll take that bet!

-(DRUM ROLLING)

-See you in hell.

(WHIP WHOOSHING)

(DRUIDA GRUNTING SAVAGELY)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

By the gods!

She really is a fighter!

Care to join the wager,

Father?

I'll add 500 sesterces

of my own to Domitian's.

-Helena?

-You're on.

(SCREAMING DEFIANTLY)

Guards!

Now, Petro! Now!

(HORN BLOWING)

(MEN SHOUTING)

MAN:
Call the Guard!

And who are you?

What's in a name, Caesar?

This, Vespasian Caesar, is the man

who warned me of Pertinax's plot.

And while I must beg your forgiveness

for letting it go this far,

there's no way I could have believed

it possible had I not seen it.

I asked for his name!

Marcus Didius Falco, Caesar.

And this plot?

Near as I can tell,

Pertinax and Saleena

were trying to make it look like your

son, Domitian, was out to get you.

-Father...

-Silence!

Go on.

Then I imagine Pertinax, still

appearing loyal, would kill Domitian

for his supposed treachery.

Leaving only him, as head of the Praetorian

Guard, to become the next emperor.

And how, exactly, did you

come to know of all this?

Through some bad luck,

and the help of this

extraordinary gladiator.

I hired him, Caesar. In the hopes of

securing a good future for my brother,

I married Pertinax

only to find this was no man I'd

allowed into my noble family,

but a snake.

Realizing this, my brother

started to follow Pertinax,

hoping to find some weakness, some scandal

with which to check his obsessive ambition.

When Cato disappeared,

I had no other choice

but to look for an outsider

like Falco to find him.

Do you deny this?

Why should I?

It almost worked, didn't it?

You are more twisted

than the mind can comprehend.

All the better to rule Rome

with, don't you think,

Caesar?

Hold everyone in the palace until I

decide what's to be done with them.

But leave him here.

Now clear the room.

Now!

(PERTINAX SCREAMING)

-How's the cut?

-I've had worse.

But what do you think's

gonna happen to us, Falco?

Most likely,

he'll kill us, too.

-For saving his life?

-For knowing too much.

Vespasian's new to the throne.

Wouldn't look good for Rome

to know he'd almost fallen off it.

People might get ideas.

You knew this could happen,

didn't you, Falco?

The curse of having

emperors, I'm afraid.

Marcus Didius Falco?

I've explained to the Emperor the great

risk you took in warning me of this plot,

and in your efforts

to overturn it.

For that, he is grateful.

However, because of the serious

nature of these events,

he is left with no choice

but to order the following.

Here it comes.

There will be no reward or public

display of gratitude of any kind.

And you will never,

upon pain of death,

speak of

what you've seen again.

Do you understand?

That's all?

No.

In addition, the Emperor will purchase the

gladiator from you at a handsome profit.

Agreed?

The Emperor's decision is

generous beyond expectation.

But as for the offer

to buy Justus,

-I'm afraid that's impossible.

-Why impossible?

That scroll I gave you.

Give it to Petro.

"I, Marcus Didius Falco,

being the sole and legal owner of the

gladiator known as Justus of Germania,

do herewith enact

the laws of manumission

and grant to him his full

and complete freedom

to be a citizen of Rome."

I see.

The fighter belongs

to himself.

Just make sure to pay the five

percent manumission tax

on the value

of all freed slaves.

For a bruiser like that, I'd say

about 3,000 sesterces should cover it.

FALCO:
Three thousand

sesterces?

NIOBE:
Another one

damaged beyond repair!

-Now that makes five... -And I could

have a free wife now, couldn't I, Falco?

Wife?

With the divorce rates these days?

Now, don't go rushing

into anything, Justus.

Niobe, get on with it.

And my children would be free.

Freeborn citizens,

every one of them.

I've always dreamed

of having children.

-Great big ones.

-FALCO:
Niobe.

And I could learn how to

read now, couldn't I, Falco?

Well, I could teach you!

Right, Falco?

I can speak in six

different languages, you know.

And curse in 12 of them.

None of which is gonna help us.

How bad is it?

(SIGHS)

Mother of Isis, Falco.

-How much?

-You're in a hole for 29,000 sesterces.

A new low.

Don't worry, Falco.

We will think of something.

-"We"?

-You sure about that?

You're free to go

whenever you like, you know.

I know,

but I want to be

what you are, Falco.

What exactly are you?

Well, he likes to call himself

a private investigator.

If you can imagine that.

"Justus from Germania,

"private investigator."

That sounds good, doesn't it?

-Perfect!

-I gotta go now, Falco.

Where do you think you're going?

It's getting on to night out there.

I know, but Druida's being put

on a ship to Britain tonight.

Not to worry.

I'll go with him.

All those narrow,

winding little streets.

And Justus?

Your hair.

"Gladiators!"

Good night, Falco.

Good night, Justus.

FALCO:
What was it

he said before?

Ah, yes.

"Rome is strange, Falco."

Well, there was no

arguing that.

But was it just Rome

and its empire?

Or was it simply the endless struggles

and strivings of humanity itself

that defied all understanding?

Either way, my time here never

seemed short on surprises.

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