The Chiron Confession (Dominium Dei) Read Online Free PDF Page A

key in the lock, the door swung open and the other guard rushed in to see Ludlumus stagger to his feet.
    “The prisoner killed him and almost took me too!” Ludlumus cried out.
    The guard ran to his fallen colleague, saw the knife and then kicked the defenseless Clemens until he was flat against the wall. He turned to Ludlumus.
    “Are you all right, sir?”
    “I’m fine,” Ludlumus replied. “Just make sure the prisoner’s on in five minutes.”
    Ludlumus left the cell and emerged a few minutes later inside Gate XXXIV of the Coliseum. More than 80,000 fans had packed the stands today. Ludlumus was pleased with the turnout as he walked past the Doric columns to his section. The arena was surrounded by a metal grating, twelve cubits in front of the first tier of seats, which protected the public from the wild beasts. On the first tier ranged the marble seats of the privileged. Above those were the second and third tiers for the ordinary public. Even the plebes in the top gallery would be able to follow the drama that was about to unfold below them.
    The imperial box for the Emperor, his family and invited guests was the easiest place to pick out because it had the best seats in the stadium, on the first tier on the northern side of the arena, and was protected by a bronze balustrade. The imperial bodyguard detail wordlessly allowed Ludlumus into the box. There he took his place at the right hand of Domitian.
    Domitian said, “That didn’t take long.”
    “Long enough. He killed one of your guards. With the very dagger you awarded him upon his consulship.”
    “I never thought he had it in him,” Domitian said.
    “The Dei will do that to a man, I suppose. But I did extract a confession.”
    Ludlumus produced the wax tablet and handed it to Caesar.
    Domitian looked at the confession, his face turning livid. “But I’m throwing a party for him tonight!”
    “Mmm.” Ludlumus did his best to look devastated. “Although he’s a good decade younger than I am, I once considered myself his protégé in the theater.”
    “Terrible. But you look like you are holding up well under the circumstances.”
    “Thank you, Your Highness.”
    Ludlumus noted with satisfaction that a low stone wall had already been set up by the propmasters. A fresh layer of white sand glistened in the sun, all the better to show off fresh blood. Now a warrior in armor walked into the arena to the frenzied applause of the crowd. “Romulus! Romulus! Romulus!” they all chanted.
    Instantly Clemens was launched into the scene from a hidden elevator shaft.
    The mob now chanted louder. “Remus! Remus! Remus!”
    Ludlumus glanced at Domitian, who nodded approvingly at the send-off he had prepared for Clemens in this re-telling of the founding of Rome. Romulus and Remus were brothers. As legend had it, Remus mocked the little wall his brother Romulus had begun building for the new city, jumping over it and back to show just how puny it was. Romulus didn’t like that and killed Remus on the spot. For this re-enactment, Ludlumus had the propmasters dress “Romulus” in the royal purple and gold as a stand-in for Domitian, while Clemens, as close to a brother as Domitian had left in this world, stood in for himself.
    Ludlumus was quite proud of his work here. Only a former thespian like himself would appreciate the scale with which his beastmasters cleared more than 5,000 wild beasts from the morning’s animal acts off the arena floor in order for the propmasters to erect the scene for today’s lunchtime execution and, when that was over, the afternoon’s gladiatorial contests.
    Sadly, Clemens didn’t seem up to the demands of his role. Standing wobbly on the floor of the great stadium, he barely had time to brace himself before the first stab from the sword of Romulus struck him. The blade went clean through him and out his back. Slowly Romulus withdrew his blood-tipped blade. As it was the only thing keeping poor Clemens up, the late consul